Novel & Cerita Tara Westover Father Burns

"It's not. You have backing of several chains that do not include children and women and blood. Only if you focus more on them and withdraw yourself from dark part of the-" "I have done this my entire life Tara. This is who I am, this is who your father was, this how it will always be" "I hate everything you just said" "Too bad. You cannot ask me not to do what I've always known and done" "Fine then, you cannot ask me love you back. I'm sorry, I can never love a man who cannot help himself bring a criminal. That's not the kind of father I wanted for my children" She did not speak angrily, rather more professionally than she hoped to.

Every time Kai stepped out into the snow to fix a stranger's ruin, he brought a piece of the mud back into their kitchen on his boots. A sudden, sharp memory surfaced in Kai’s mind—a memory of their father’s study on the night the bank took the deeds to the timber yard. He had been nine years old, standing in the shadow of the hallway, watching through the cracked door as his father meticulously burned old letters in the small fireplace, his hands shaking so violently that several pieces of charred paper had floated out onto the rug. “If they can't find the trail, Kai, they can't prove the destination,” his father had muttered to himself, his voice cracked with brandy and terror. “You make t

He looked at his father, lowered his eyes, and said in a disheartened tone, “Dad, I am sorry. Please forgive me.” His father, who was already furious, retorted, “West, I think you should reflect on yourself.” West nodded. He had been acting out of character and had been far too emotional recently. He looked at his father and said, “You shouldn’t worry. I am going to return to the camp tomorrow morning. Good night, Dad.” West then took long strides and headed to his room. Even after lying on his bed for thirty minutes, he couldn’t sleep. He kept tossing and turning restlessly. When dawn came, he sluggishly got out of bed, hoping Rosana would stop him at the airport.

“But I was wrong. Nothing compares to the love between a father and a daughter. I can only ask the moon goddess to bless Mark and Victor with such love.” I read about how Mark will follow him as Beta, clearly, he didn’t update this in a while and then I read about Lucy. And I will NOT read this out loud. FUCK THIS ASSHOLE. SON of a BITCH! I rip the rest and up and look at the pack. “Thankfully, my brother and I are nothing like our father. And both Westmoreland and Bazin are better for it.” I grab the pages and walk quickly to my brother and hand him the pages. Everyone is staring at us as Mark reaches and burns them.

Tyler whimpered. “We are not losing Jaxon. He's stronger than you think, and I know he'll fight through this. We just have to figure out a way to help him. Maybe this has something to do with the fire wolves.” My dad asserted. He was here too as he saw Jax as the son he never had.

“I am your father. Zack is dead. I cannot afford to lose anyone else.” Weston massaged his wrist. For a brief moment, he felt a deep disgust and revulsion toward his father. He looked at the face that bore great similarity to his, and his blood overflowed with disgust. “You are the most unqualified person to question me.” Why didn’t Chris know that? He lowered his head and could only use the promise to suppress him. “Weston, you promised me that you would treat Zack as your own son. You could not do this…” “What else do I have to do?”

“So, did you enjoy yesterday? I told you, you will live in vain like what I have felt the day I came back. I am slowly getting everything that used to be mine.” “You are so cruel,” I commented. “Me? Do you think I am the cruel one? What you have done before is the most unimagined thing will happen in our history. West parent sided because of your father!” I closed my eyes. I suddenly remember the letter I have received, is my father really gave it to me? “It was on the past,” “But it will be forever engraved on his heart! Do you know the pain of losing someone right? Can you multiply it to 2? That is how miserable West is. You just broke his heart because of an stupid excuse!”

My voice dropped softer this time, but no less cutting. “You think Alaric is the crazy one? The one people should stay away from? Your witch of a mother set the house on fire when Alaric was just a child, just to watch him burn alive. To kill him. And your father?” A low, disbelieving chuckle slipped past my lips. “Your father stood outside and watched. Uncaring if his son died. No matter how much Alaric cried for him, he just watched him burn in that fire.”

“Medic! We need a medic over here.” The charred body he laid on the ground was Jason’s father. “My son,” he murmured, clinging to the firefighter’s boot. Coherent sentences were garbled with indistinguishable syllables. “Save my son. I locked him in his room. I couldn’t get to the door. The roof collapsed.” He coughed, his eyes glazed with pain. “He’s still in there.” If it weren’t for his familiar voice, Jason wouldn’t have recognized him. His skin was so severely burned he was unidentifiable. Jason stood over him, trembling. “I’m here, Dad. I’m okay.”

Bri asked, her voice holding the slightest hint of doubt. I swung my gaze back to my mom again and watched her try and fail, to mask her emotions, “I set the house on fire….. on purpose……with your father inside the building, he suffered from third degree burns and was in the hospital for years” Ohhh crap, I just got up and walked to the minibar and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels, reached for the glass but thought better of it and just carried the bottle with me back to the couch