Chapter 343: His Father's Love

[This chapter is dedicated to DirtybookQueen90. Thank you for all the support. Cheers!]
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"You were given a simple task!" His saliva was flying out of his mouth as he raged and continued slapping his son who was kneeling in front of him, hands bound behind his back. "You're a useless piece of shit!" He kicked his stomach and paced the dark room. "You are just like that whore of a mother that bore you and burdens me in this world." He kept on mumbling as he walked to and fro the narrow room, lighted by a small bulb. 
Stefan grunted in the dark. He bit his lips that were already swollen from the slap that he got from his own father for any sound that he would produce would only result in more beatings. And he doesn't want that. He wanted him to get over his anger fast. He wanted to get out of this damn closet that his father turned into an interrogation slash punishing room. These things were getting such a bore. Letting him kneel, tying his arms, and slapping and kicking him were things that he had been doing since he remembered. This shit no longer hurts him, emotionally that is, but physically, it still hurts like a bitch! 
He shifted his leg because he's getting a cramp from kneeling for a long time. The room was so dark that he had no idea what time it was. His father's men fetch him from his office right as he gets back from having coffee with Jess and Marie. He chuckled slightly which hurt his side that had been kicked repeatedly. He would like to pass out but his father injected some drugs on him before he started to beat the hell out of him. He wondered if he was developing another drug that he had no idea about. 
"I need to get my hands on that bitch! I will rip her apart just like how my brother ripped my heart apart from stealing my woman!" He yelled and cried, slapping the wall with his palm. 
Stefan wished his hands weren't bound for him to cover his ears. His father's voice was too painful to listen to. He must have been taking the drugs that he was selling to the black market. The drugs that Nicole developed made his father filthy rich. Nicole made a drug that would give the same high an addict gets from his choice of drugs but it won't show in the blood. It became the chosen drug of those people who needed the high but had to keep a face of being an upstanding citizen, or mother, or wife, or son or daughter…He giggled and his body spasmed. His damn father must have used him as a testing subject with new drugs. He wondered what Nicole was doing in Switzerland. 
His eyes became misty and hazy. He bit his lower lip and he tasted the blood but there was no pain. Is his father being kind this time, he wondered before his body spasmed and he felt his face hitting the cold hard wood of the damn walk-in closet. He was like a fish that was taken out of the water, wiggling on the floor. His father had already forgotten about him. He was ranting about his woman who was stolen by his brother and brought Noah into this world. He would cry and hit the floor, angry then apologetic—caressing the wall, kissing it as if he was soothing its pain. 
He laughed wryly and ended up with a pit of coughing and spitting blood on the floor. How he wished his father would caress his wounded and bruised skin, that he would kiss him to soothe all the pain that he inflicted on him. He laughed sarcastically. He was envious of the damn wall. He laughed like a maniac, not caring if his father would beat him again. He no longer feels any pain. His father could skin him alive and he would just laugh at his face. 

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He was still laughing like crazy when he felt his phone vibrate in his left pocket. He felt it stopped on the second ring. He counted one to ten and felt it vibrated for two rings and it got repeated once more before it went quiet. He smiled sadly. Nicole was calling him. He wondered if she was calling because she needed something from him or she missed him. The latter part would be a shot in the moon. Nicole would never see him as something worth loving. He can't blame her. He is nothing but a useless son of a whore. He berated himself before another peal of laughter elicited from his mouth. He never hated the sound of his own laughter like he hates them now. 
"What are you laughing about?" His father asked in an icy tone. He forgot about him because he blended in the wall as he cried and went crazy just like always. 
"What drug did you inject on me this time?" He asked in a hoarse voice. He craned his head in an awkward angle as he tried to glance at his father's face. It was useless because his eyes were swollen and the room was dark. 
He felt him drop next to him on the floor. The room was illuminated by the light that his phone produced. "Tell me what you feel." 
Stefan laughed like crazy when his father's voice changed into his professional one. His saliva was pooling in the floor with how hard he was laughing. 
"The subject had a laughter pit." He talked as his thumbs danced on his phone screen. "Do you feel this?" He asked, slamming his fist on his left cheek. 
"No," he gritted his teeth as the pain seared his temple. He lifted his face painfully as he opened his mouth to let the blood inside his mouth flow out or else he would choke on it. 
"Good…good!" He smiled at him, tapping his swollen cheek. 
A tear escaped Stefan's eyes. The smile that his father gave him was the gentlest he had ever given him.. It feels like love.

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