His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 164: My Mom Is Dead

"Dad!" I yelled, fist slamming against the wood. "Open this damn door!"

Silence.

I kept pounding, not caring if my knuckles split open. "You can't just shut me out like this! You think you're doing the right thing, but you're not. You're just being stupid!"

Still nothing.

Maybe it was time I did what actually mattered.

I glanced down at myself, remembered the shorts I was wearing, and quickly shoved my hand into my pocket.

My phone.

Perfect.

I didn't even hesitate. I unlocked it with a shaky thumb and dialed.

911.

The line picked up almost instantly.

"911, what's your emergency?" the voice asked, calm and clear.

I swallowed hard. "Hi... I'm calling because of my dad. He's trying to walk into something really dangerous. And he's not listening to me—at all."

"Alright. May I have your name and your location before we proceed?"

I was just about to answer. "My name is—"

The door flung open.

I froze.

It was him.

My dad—the same man who slammed the door in my face minutes ago—now staring at me with eyes blazing with something between rage and disbelief.

Before I could react, he yanked the phone out of my hand, rough and fast. His fingernails scraped the side of my hand hard.

"Ow! Fuck—" I winced, pulling my hand back in pain.

He didn't care.

He just stared at the screen and immediately ended the call without a second thought.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he barked.

"No," I snapped back, stepping up to him. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You're risking your life for someone and won't even tell me who they are! You think that's fair? You think that's normal?"

"I raised you better than this," he muttered, shaking his head. "Tell me you're joking right now. That my own son isn't this dumb."

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

"Say whatever you want, Dad," I said quietly, staring him dead in the eye. "Call me dumb. Say I'm wrong. But I won't let you do something that stupid."

He laughed, low and bitter. "You think you can stop me?"

"No," I said. "I know I can. Or I'll try. I'll keep trying until you listen. Because right now, you're about to make a terrible choice. And I won't just stand here and watch you die for it."

He looked stunned for a moment, like he didn't expect me to talk back that way.

"What terrible choice am I making, Logan?" my dad said sharply, his voice cutting like a blade. "You know nothing about terrible choices, and you dare stand here telling me I'm making one?"

My heart was racing, but I didn't back down. "Dad, this is a terrible choice. I cannot let you go."

He narrowed his eyes at me like I'd just challenged him to a fight. "And how exactly do you plan to stop me, huh? What now—you're gonna lock me in my own house?"

I shook my head, gripping my hands into fists so I wouldn't lose it. "No. I'm not locking you in. But I am calling the police. That's what they're there for."

I stretched my hand forward. "Now give me my phone. I need to speak to them."

He stared at me for a second—then raised the phone high above his head like a child playing keep-away.

Even with the way he was raising his hand. I would get the phone from his hands so easy because I'm taller than him.

"Why don't you come and get it?" he said coldly.

I blinked, stunned for a moment. "Dad, give me my phone. Give me the phone! I can't let you walk into danger like this."

I was breathing heavily now. My chest was tight. My throat burned. I felt like a child again—

"The police are not useless," I pushed on. "They're trained for this. Paid for this. This is literally their job. Let them do it."

He stepped closer to me then, his face so close I could see the sweat forming at his temples. His jaw clenched. His voice dropped to a tone I barely recognized.

"I'm warning you, Logan. Don't you ever argue with me about my decisions. Don't you ever call the cops on me again. Or I swear, I'll do something that'll make you regret it."

I stared at him, shocked.

"Wait... are you threatening me right now?"

"Yes, Logan. I'm threatening you," he said without blinking. "So stay out of what doesn't concern you."

He shoved the phone back into my chest.

And then—just like that—he turned and started walking away.

"I'm not letting you leave, Dad," I said, my voice shaky but firm. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on."

He kept walking.

"The voice on the phone... it sounded familiar. Too familiar. Who was it? Who died?"

He stopped.

My heart was thudding now, louder than my own thoughts.

"You really want to know who died?" he asked without turning.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. My throat went dry.

He turned his head slightly, just enough for his words to hit me like a train.

"Tyler's mother. She's dead."

I froze.

Time stopped.

Everything in the room went still except for the sound of my own breath.

I shook my head slowly. "What...?"

He looked at me finally. His face was hard, unreadable.

"Tyler's mom is gone. Dead."

I couldn't breathe.

"What do you mean my mom is dead?" I whispered. "How... how is she dead?"