“No, your life is mine right now. You’re living in my house, under my roof.”
“Fine, then I’ll move.”
He snickers. “Good luck with that.” He sighs. “Damnit, Mason, I don’t enjoy being a hard ass like this. But I want what’s best for you.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes this time.
“By this time next week, I want you in a suit and tie, at my offices in the mail room, and I want your letter of apology to that school in my hands. Is that understood?”
I just hold his eyes. “And if it’s not?”
“If it’s not, there will be serious consequences, Mason,” he growls. He shakes his head at me. “Don’t push me on this one, son. I will go scorched earth if it means securing you a future.”
He glares at my beer, turns, and storms out of the kitchen.