Chapter 270: Let Go…
"Let go… let go…" Hoyt's voice cracked. Despite being illegitimate, he'd lived a life untouched by hardship. His mother, Nova, though controlling, had never disciplined him beyond a slap. He had never tasted real pain—until now.
Hoyt lashed out, his bravado crumbling. "If you don't let go, you'll regret it!" His threat, a brittle shield against the torment, fell from his lips. No sooner had the words left his mouth than Kellan casually reached for the baseball bat.
"Oh, really?" Kellan smirked, his tone as cool as winter's edge. "You must understand the cost of trespassing better than I do. Even if I put you six feet under, it wouldn't raise many eyebrows." He pressed the bat against Hoyt's forehead with deliberate slowness, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. "Shall we see who blinks first?"
Hoyt's chest tightened with fear; breath escaped him in shallow, uneven gasps. His body trembled violently. "I… I didn't mean it," he stammered, barely maintaining composure.
Kellan's reputation preceded him—a man as wild as a storm at sea, unpredictable and capable of capsizing anyone's world. Already drowning in fear, Hoyt knew this was no idle threat. Desperate, he turned to his mother. "Mom, help me!" His voice cracked like a child's cry for rescue.
Nova's face hardened at the sight of her son groveling. She knew Kellan wouldn't cross the line in front of an audience; this was a show of dominance, not execution. Yet, she hadn't counted on Kellan's unexpected strength and precision—he'd been hiding it all along.
"Kellan," Nova began, her voice a calculated mix of regret and sadness. "I know you've harbored resentment toward us. You hate me for stepping into your mother's place, and for that, I owe you an apology. As a single mother with no one to rely on, we never should have entered your world." She leaned back against the wall, feigning frailty, her voice trembling with emotion. Tears brimmed in her eyes, casting her in a light of sorrow and remorse. "But Hoyt is still your brother. Blood is thicker than water. If anyone deserves your anger, it should be me." Her words dripped with martyrdom, portraying herself as the wronged yet noble stepmother, appearing as though one more word from Kellan would bring her to her knees begging for mercy.
Kellan's gaze never wavered. "Do you think I don't dare?" Nova dared not speak. She realized Kellan was unreasonable and impervious; nobody could change his mind. "What will it take for you to let Hoyt go?" she asked.
"That depends on what the one involved wants," Kellan said, glancing at Allison. His eyes were as dark and unreadable as the depths of an abyss. "After all, Hoyt's offense wasn't against me," Kellan said, pressing the bat harder against Hoyt's forehead, leaving an angry red imprint. "It was Allison he crossed." Violence and malice radiated from him like the heat off a fire. In that moment, Kellan looked every bit the predator.
Allison, however, appeared unfazed. Tilting her head with a soft, almost disarming smile, she seemed as harmless as a gentle breeze. "I'm always the forgiving type," she said, her tone as sweet as honey. "Hoyt probably just needs a lesson. So why don't you teach him some manners, Mr. Lloyd?" Allison thought Nova had an edge over most people; her fragile facade was her sharpest blade, wielded with precision. Allison reflected on what Gordon had uncovered: Nova might have played a role in the death of Kellan's mother.
Kellan's eyes locked onto Allison's; his grip on the bat betrayed his tension. His long, slender fingers curled tighter around the handle. "As you wish," Kellan said, his voice steady.
Hoyt stood there in shock, shrinking under the weight of Kellan's words. Rage flared in him; his disbelief boiled over. "You're really going to hit me over a woman? If you dare, Kellan, Father won't let this slide! Just because your legs are healed doesn't mean you can go acting crazy. When Father hears about this…" Before Hoyt could finish, Kellan's bat connected with his side in one swift motion, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Ahhh!" Hoyt screamed, his voice torn with agony. His vision blurred as pain flooded his body, nearly driving him into unconsciousness. Not another word of protest escaped his lips.