“Does he make you happy, Ellie?”
He’s drinking because of my love life.Big shocker there. He’s been in a foul mood since Christian waltzed through the front door.
“Yes,” I offer as a short response. One that doesn’t open the door for elaboration, because I’m honestly not sure I can give him that. It’s crazy that Christian makes me happy. It’s crazy that I’m with him.
It’s crazy that I stayed with him after everything I’ve learned and everything I’ve been through.
But here I am. I’ve made peace with it. My father should too.
He sighs as if my affirmative was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Figures,” he mumbles, then he looks up in his hazy state and scowls at the ceiling as if he can see God.
“Does this have something to do with Christian’s father?”
His eyes snap to me, wide-eyed and shocked. “What about his father?” he asks through gritted teeth, still quiet.
I furrow my brow. “Did you not get along with Thomas?”
My dad chuckles and takes a drink of his scotch. “That’s one way of putting it.”
I give my dad a sympathetic smile. “Dad, Christian isn’t his father. Whatever your issue is with Thomas, don’t take it out on him. I want you to like him. I love him.”
“Because of his money?” He raises an accusatory eyebrow. “Because he lives in a big house and can take you on vacations and buy you jewelry?”
“No!” I whisper-shout, offended. “He has done more for me than you could ever possibly know. Can you not, just for once in my life, be supportive of a decision I made for myself? You didn’t support my choice to go to law school, and you supported it evenlesswhen I got into Meridian Law and moved. Now you aren’t supporting me when I’m telling you I’m in love with a man who would move the sun with his bare hands if it meant giving me a little shade.”
“A man like Christian Reeves will get tired of you eventually. When you stop giving him what he wants.”
Seething, I grab my father’s scotch glass, throw the amber liquid into his face, and then slam it back down to the table so hard it cracks. Hot, angry, embarrassed tears fall out of my eyes and soak the collar of my shirt.
“Funny. That sounds like the same thing Neil Hayden said before he raped me,” I croak out, and then I turn, pushing past everyone else and running out the front door.
When Travis and I were younger, my dad spent three weeks building us a treehouse that any kid would envy. It’s got a wrap-around porch and a tower jutting off the side. The wood is well sealed, so years of rain haven’t made it moldy.
It still looks the same as the last time I saw it, only the rope ladder is frayed. I climb up the tree and crawl into the house. I’m small, but the actual space inside the treehouse is even smaller, so I have to pull my knees up to my chest to fit comfortably.
My father is a harsh man. Some people might even call him cold and cruel, but I never once thought he could be that way towards me.
As with most people, he thinks Christian only cares about me because of what’s in between my legs.
I hear someone begin to crawl up the steps of the ladder and I groan. “Go away.”
I hear heavy breathing and then my brother’s blonde-dyed hair pokes up from the edge of the porch. “My body doesn’t feel like it used to,” he huffs as he crawls into the tiny treehouse with me, leaning back against the wooden wall to catch his breath. Travis turns his head to look at me with his bright blue eyes and chuckles. “We had to abandon ship. Mom is ripping dad a new asshole for what he said to you. She was threatening him with a spatula when the three of us ran out.”
That makes me laugh. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
“Because I used to come here to cry too, before I came out to our parents.”
I look around the tiny space of the treehouse. I remember when we could both stand up comfortably in here. Now it feels like we’re sitting in ancient ruins of the past. “I don’t understand what dad’s problem is. Ever since he met Christian, he’s been so…impossible. Not that he’s the friendliest guy you’ll ever meet, but you know what I mean.”
Travis shrugs. “You’re his baby.”
“I’m older than you.”
“Yeah, but he’s already lost two daughters. He’s just scared of losing a third. Maybe not to gunfire, but I think he’s finally realized that we’re all grown up. I’m getting married, and I’ve seen the way hottie looks at you. You’re not going to be long after me and then who will he have left to inflict his iron will on?”
“I think it’s more than that. Dad knew Christian’s father and I think there’s some history there that he’s taking out on our relationship. I don’t think that’s fair.”
“It’s not.” My brother shrugs. “But love always prevails, doesn’t it? Hottie loves you to a fault. I’ve known him for like, a day and a half, and I can see it. You could ask him to cut off his left leg and there would be no hesitation on his part.”
