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“People talk,” Dad said over me. “They have questions about what you’re doing with him. Always following him around like a lovesick puppy.”
“I don’t—”
“You will not be the girl who sleeps around!” He slammed his fist onto the table.
“Nolan and I aren’t sleeping together, Daddy,” I assured him like I always had to. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. He didn’t like the Byrnes—any of them. But I wasn’t willing to give them up. “Him and his brothers are family—
“No!” he interrupted angrily, his temper escalating. “Those boys aren’t your family! They’re a bad influence on you!”
“They’re my family—
“You are not a Byrne!” he shouted.
“Sweetheart,” Mom began as her hand covered mine, “you’re upsetting your father. You and I both know the Byrnes boys are no good. I don’t know why you insist on being around them when you know they offer no value in your life. You don’t need that job at the bookstore. Come back to the church with us full-time. There are plenty of things we need your help with.”
“I like my job at The Treehouse,” I said. “I like spending time with Nolan and Raven.”
“That woman,” Dad scoffed. “She’s a harlot. Living with two men and doing God only knows what else with who else. I don’t want you around her. She’s a bad influence.”
“She’s my friend.”
“You need better friends. Respectable friends.”
My stomach rolled unsteadily. I drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm it. I’d never convince him about how good any of the people I filled my life with were. It was a pointless fight. If he didn’t like them, nothing would change his mind.
Unfortunately, who I spent my time with wasn’t the big issue at hand. I chewed on my bottom lip as I pushed the food around on my plate. The idea of eating made me nauseous. I had to bring it up. I knew I did. But God, even the thought of it scared the crap out of me. My dad was going to lose it. Absolutely lose it. But it’d be so much worse if it happened and I didn’t tell him first.
“So…” I cleared my throat as I set my fork down. I stared at my hands in my lap, unable to look at my parents. “Killian is coming home.”
Dad’s fork hit the table. Hard.
Mom gasped—a little too dramatically. Her hand flew to her chest as her eyes widened and her brows nearly hit her hairline.
“No!” Dad snapped. “He’s not! You tell him he’s not welcome.”
“I’m not going to tell him that,” I whispered. “He’s coming back to Cedar Harbor. Not home… to me. He’s coming back because of the pack.”
“We don’t want him!”
“Genevieve, dear,” Mom began, “the Byrnes can’t honestly think that after what he… what he did to you… that he can just come back and run the pack. How can we trust him?”
“We can’t,” he cut in. “He’s not welcome here. You stay away from that boy, Genevieve, you understand me? I’ll handle this. The pack doesn’t want him back. He doesn’t belong here. He belongs in a jail cell! Mark my words, when I’m done with him, Killian Byrne won’t be welcome in this town.”
I said nothing like I always did when it came to the topic of Killian. My marriage was my own. The choices I’d made… they couldn’t understand.
They wouldn’t.
And so, I remained silent because I knew nothing I had to say would matter anyway.
Chapter 34
Genevieve
Ithrew that stupid skirt away with its one stubborn-as-all-get-up wrinkle. I didn’t need that mess in my life. I’d buy a new skirt with no wrinkles and keep it that way. Hang it up and never touch it unless necessary. Put it in our old room and leave it in there where no one could touch it.
I sighed as I dropped the lid on the dumpster. That was an unreasonable thought. I couldn’t just make a room for a single freaking skirt—even if the idea of a wrinkle-free, drama-free skirt was a nice one.
While the store was technically in vacation mode, I opened up The Treehouse to the public. Not that I expected anyone to show up. Mostly I just needed to feel like me again. Nolan’s shop was the closest thing to home I had—the books, the soft pillows, the reading corners. It was a sanctuary without all the bad memories and painful emotions attached to it.
