CHAPTER 361: HE’S MY SON-IN-LAW

Trigger warning-mention of sa, force, and other triggering moments. They are very brief, but please read at your own risk.

"How did you get in?" It wasn’t Andrew’s voice that spoke up, nor Maxwell’s. It was a pissed off, gloves off Luis who spoke. Every inch of her stiff with barely controlled rage. She came to a stop next to Andrew, her hand going to his and slipping her fingers there, giving his hand a firm squeeze.

She was here for support. Here for him, and so angry that Andrew could feel how her body was trembling. Andrew couldn’t believe himself. How had he thought for even a second that she had allowed him to enter? There was no way.

Thomas stopped on her other side, the four of them in a line against the man who looked so much like Andrew it was almost a damn mirror. He was calmer, at least outwardly. Andrew had seen that same expression on Maxwell’s face before he crushed a man’s dreams under his foot.

"Dear Mrs. Beckett, what do you mean? You invited other members of my family, but I’m not allowed?" Andrew’s father took one of his hands out of his pockets and placed his hand over his heart, looking hurt. Andrew knew he wasn’t actually upset. Not in that way.

He was probably pissed that he’d been excluded from something.

"It was only last year that I was still invited to this party. What’s with the sudden change?" His father asked, his gaze sliding to Andrew with a damn smirk that had Andrew’s whole body stiffening.

He’d been too small back then to fight his father. He wasn’t the small boy he used to be anymore. If he thought that Andrew was going to hold himself back? He had another thing coming.

"I didn’t think you needed glasses, but maybe that’s where Andy gets it from." Luis said, sniffing angrily and Andrew watched as the pleased little smirk fell from his face. "Why would I invite someone who makes my son-in-law uncomfortable? Especially after hearing the truth of his situation? I’m not a heartless person, and there have been many, many times where you have caused some kind of disturbance, Mr. Abraham. It was only a matter of time before you were excluded." Luis’ voice lowered the temperature in the room by 4 degrees and Andrew felt his heart ache.

She hadn’t backed down at all. Declaring him her son-in-law drew a clear line that she didn’t consider his father a part of that package.

Mr. Abraham, the first time Andrew had ever actually heard his father’s last name, shifted, looking a little confused that the interaction wasn’t going the way that he wanted. He was clearly used to having things go the way he wanted, but this?

He hadn’t even realised he’d had no control over this moment he’d stepped foot into this hall. Andrew squeezed both hands holding his, and felt the Mother and Son look at him, angry and worry a strange mix on both of their faces.

"Well...he didn’t get his eyesight from me. He inherited other things from me." Mr. Abraham said with a shrug. Andrew’s Mom hadn’t had glasses, nor did Kim or Andrew’s cousins. While eyesight wasn’t always hereditary, Andrew wouldn’t put it past him to view glasses as a fucking flaw. They probably tried to ’correct’ it as soon as they could.

"What is the real reason you’re here?" Andrew asked, his voice flat. He didn’t really care about this man. Seeing him for the first time in a while had been shocking, and it had dragged up a lot of suppressed emotions, but at the same time...

Andrew was glad to see that he hadn’t changed. It would make hating him for as long as he had felt pointless if he wasn’t the same piece of shit he’d always been.

"Why do I need a reason?" He asked, laughing to himself. The room watched him quietly. While not everyone was on Andrew’s side, since that would be an impossible feat as Andrew knew next to no one, they knew an uninvited guest when they saw one.

In this field? This was a big faux pas.

"Because you aren’t welcome here." Andrew said. His expression, while normally had a smile on it, was flat. Showing off just how intimidating Andrew actually was without it. Andrew worked hard to not be scary, to not be intimidating. For most of his life, just his height alone had scared people, let alone the prejudices that came with having the skin tone that he did and a white Mom.

He would be damned if the man who helped create him would claim anything else.

Mr. Abraham looked shocked to hear that so firmly from Andrew’s mouth. He even let out a shocked laugh.

"I’m not welcome here? Do you even know who I am?" He asked and Andrew shook his head.

"No, I don’t, and I’ve never cared to know." Andrew said calmly, meaning every damn word that left his mouth. It was the first time he’d seen the man who was always so cocky stutter, stumble.

Andrew didn’t need to be a genius to know that his image was everything to him. It meant everything to him. Not the children, not the wives, husbands or wealth that he had. His reputation and image meant more to him than people did.

Andrew knew that even as a child.

This was an effective blow. That one of his sons didn’t even know who he was? That was something he wouldn’t recover from, so Andrew dug the knife deeper.

"In fact," Andrew said, taking a step towards the man who tormented his Mom, "I didn’t even know your name until Luis said it." His words rang out across the hall, telling everyone exactly what kind of man he was, what he had done, and how deep Andrew’s hatred ran through his veins. Andrew. The man who was all laughs, easy smiles, and an unending love for the Beckett’s youngest son.

Here he was, glaring at the man who was supposed to be his father like he was shit on his shoe.

Mr. Abraham at least looked shocked to hear that.

"Did she never tell you?" He asked, shifting the blame to a woman who couldn’t defend herself. Andrew let out a cold laugh.

"Why would she say the name of the man who forced a mating bond on her against her will? Who refused to listen to her, raped her, and left her with a child, kicked out of the family that was supposed to look after her, with nothing to her name?" Andrew didn’t say this part loudly, never wanting to hurt his Mom’s honour, but he couldn’t just sit back and let the crimes that were committed against her go unsaid any longer. He was sure everyone in the room could connect the dots.

It wasn’t like he was a good man, everyone probably knew how bad of a guy he was, but Andrew needed the air to touch the words he said. His Mom had never said it. Never admitted it, but Andrew knew. He was just grateful that she kept him, and never made him feel less than, unworthy. Unloved.

She had never considered Andrew a chore, or a punishment. She had always treated him with love, and that alone had made Andrew protective of her and her memory.

So while Andrew needed to say them, even quietly, he could tell that those close were unfazed, but he could see how the words affected his father.

He was the kind of man who ignored what was right before his face. The kind of man who didn’t care how his actions affected others, but Andrew wasn’t going to let him look away from what he’d done. What he continued to do.

"And not only that, when she told you about her medical condition, you didn’t even bother to keep up with the pitiful visits that extended her life." Andrew growled, stepping forward. His eyes were bright, amber, a beast in human flesh. "She was glad, at the end, that she hadn’t told me where you were. Because otherwise, I would have strangled you with my own hands." Andrew, a gentle giant, growled.

Andrew watched as fear flickered in his father’s gaze. He knew it with a bone deep clarity that Andrew meant every word.

"The only reason I’m not doing so right now," Andrew told him, quiet, angry, serious, "is because Luis and Thomas planned this as an event for celebration, and at this point I don’t want your dirty blood on my hands." Andrew wanted to spit at his feet, show him exactly what he was worth.

The man’s mouth was agape, shocked at the vile words that had left Andrew’s mouth. For Andrew, it felt therapeutic. Like he was getting something dark and ugly out of his system. Maybe he had needed to meet his father. This felt...good in a way.

"T-That is no way to speak to someone who helped fund your childhood! I continued sending money well into your adulthood!" The man sputtered and Andrew let out a cold, heartless laugh.

"Money? Did you think we needed your fucking money?" Andrew laughed again, reaching into his jacket pocket. He’d brought it. Always brought it. It was more of a charm then anything else at this point, and Andrew heard Maxwell inhale behind him.

He knew what was coming.

Andrew pulled out the card, the numbers worn only because they had rubbed off through years of neglect. Andrew stared at the man, knowing beyond a doubt that the man had never seen what worth his Mom truly had, had never seen her for anything but a means to an end.

Andrew’s smile was cruel as he flung the card at his feet.

"There shouldn’t be a cent missing from all of those child support checks you sent to help. We never needed your money. My Mom was such an amazing woman that you don’t even know what she did for work. She did it carefully, excluding you so quietly your family never had any idea that we were the reason you were being excluded." Andrew said, a smirk on his face.

His father looked confused, staring down at the debit card at his feet with complete confusion.

"What?" He muttered, confused, unable to grasp what Andrew was saying. It was at that moment that Kim’s laughter washed over them.

"Hello, Dennis." Kim said, and Andrew watched with great pleasure as his father’s back stiffened. Andrew watched as the man turned his gaze to the redhead, his aunt, before turning to Andrew.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his gaze narrowed, and Andrew could tell that the mask was cracking just a little. Good. Fuck this man.