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He sighed. “Rae, if that boy doesn’t love you after all you two have been through and after all you’ve done for him, he sure as hell isn’t worth any more of your efforts.”
I nodded slowly. “True.”
“Tell him, Rae. Tell him, like I’m going to tell Allison she’s going to prom with me.”
“Whoa, now. I didn’t realize we were talking on that sort of a level now.”
He nudged me with his shoulder. “You really are patronizing sometimes. You know that?”
I giggled. “It’s why you love me.”
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to him. “Always and forever, girl. I’ll always have your back.”
“Even if I screw around with your mortal enemy and somehow make you guys friends?”
He paused. “I mean, maybe.”
The two of us laughed, but his words hit home. Michael was right. If I wanted Clint to know I loved him, I had to spit it out. And there was a good chance he wouldn't do it first. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he’d been through enough. He’d taken enough first steps to last someone a lifetime. It was damn time someone took the reins from him and let him rest a little bit. I didn’t want to wait a second longer to tell him how I felt. Even if it blew up in my face. Even if he broke my heart. Even if I completely regretted the decision. At least I’d know. I’d know where we stood, and he’d know he was capable—and worthy—of being loved.
And I wanted to be the person to finally give that to him.
38
Clinton
I gripped the wooden spoon, pulling it to my side. “No.”
He growled at me. “No?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not going anywhere. And I suggest you let Cecilia go.”
As I stood there, staring at the fear in her eyes, I felt the entire room shift underneath my feet. My father’s anger filled the space, pushing it outward and upward and downward. But, I steadied myself. I looked him straight in his eyes and held his stare. Held my ground. Held that wooden spoon in my hand, just in case that man decided to charge me.
This stopped today.
I mean, fucking hell. I was a fighter everywhere in my life except my own damn home. The fuck was that about? No more. I was done being pushed around by my father. I was done feeling weak. I’d just fought for my life, and now I felt like the time had come for me to fight for my freedom. To fight for peace. To fight for the sanity of this household and to buck up against my father.
And I was done allowing Cecilia to suffer the same angry wrath I had all my life. She deserved better. That woman had been there for me every step of the way through this shit. I wouldn't let my father hurt her. I wouldn’t let him mangle her. I wouldn’t let him taint her the way he’d tainted me down through the years. Because if he didn’t have any issues putting his hands on her right now, that meant it had happened in the past.
Something that boiled my blood.
Dad’s eye twitched. “What? You think you’re a big man now?”
Cecilia tried wrenching away from him, but it didn’t work. He tightened his grip further against her skin, causing her to cry out. I took a step forward, flipping the spoon in my hand. I caught it, feeling the weight of the damn thing settling against my palm. And as Dad’s eyes flickered down to it, something else crossed my mind.
It wasn’t simply Cecilia that deserved better.
I did, too.
“The fuck are you smiling about? Put that damn thing down and get out of here.”
My father’s voice ripped me from my trance and I felt my lips curling up. Further. Wider. Until my teeth gleamed at him and happiness flooded my veins. I deserved better. For the first time in my life, I felt like I deserved something more than this. Something more than Dad. Something more
than the life he’d given me. Something more than the emptiness of his money. I looked at Cecilia and winked, letting her know that the two of us were getting out of this. No matter what I had to do.
Then, finally, Dad dropped her arm. “The fuck are you smiling about, son?”
I snickered. “I’m not your son.”
