Scarlet’s glare turns into something pleased, but just barely. As if she appreciates his cockiness and how he’s unwilling to back down or take shit.
“Very well,” she says blandly. “Come in.”
Nate shoots me a scathing look before he trails after her, anxiously fixing the cuffs of his black button-up. I would care more about his anxiety if I weren’t so distracted by his ass in those slacks.
Damn. Nate looksgood.
Scarlet takes us to the dining room, and I immediately spot Dad at the head of the table, with Mom to his right. I watch as Scarlet takes her seat on his left, and Nate appears to find her the safest company because he sticks to her side of the table, extending a hand to my father over the neatly arranged plates.
“Mr. Presley, it’s nice to meet you.”
Dad stares at his outstretched hand, his eyes narrowed. “Can’t say I feel the same.”
Dad does not shake his hand.
Nate takes a deep, steadying breath and sits next to Scarlet as I take up the place next to my mother so that I can keep my eyes on him as often as possible.
“Mrs. Presley,” Nate greets, nodding his head in her direction.
“Nathaniel,” she says gently, nodding back.
“It’s just Nate, Mom,” I correct.
I think Nate has some kind of aversion to his full name, but I can’t be sure. I don’t really want to ask.
“Oh, Nate, then,” she agrees.
“Jesus,” Dad breathes out, throwing his unused napkin onto his empty plate. “We’re really doing this? Are we going to pretend this bastard didn’t almost get my only son killed? That his gift wasn’t ripped away from him because—”
“Mr. Presley,” Nate interrupts, and I consider the likelihood that he and Dad might have ahow-much-dominance-can-I-force-into-my-voicecompetition. “I understand that you’re upset. But I can assure you that I did everything I could to keep him safe.”
“Was that before or after you turned him in to that pathetic excuse of a company?” Dad snaps.
Nate sends me a look, one that says he can see where I get my attitude from. Then he turns his attention back to my father and replies, “After.”
Scarlet bursts out laughing, pressing her napkin to her lips as ifthatwill stifle it. To be fair, I’m also grinning.
“Don’t sass me, boy,” Dad demands.
“I’m not aboy, Mr. Presley. I’m thirty-four.”
“Are you fuckingkidding me?”my father nearly shrieks.
Alright. I may have told my family that Nate had just turned thirty… I thought it might lessen the blow.
“Honey,” Mom coos, grabbing his hand over the table. “It’s alright. He makes Landon happy; isn’t that all that matters?”
“Uh, no,” he replies smoothly. “I’m pretty sure what matters most is that he stays alive.”
“And he will,” Nate insists. “I killed three people to keep him alive.”
The entire room goes dead silent.
“Um, Nate? I may have excluded mentioning that when I got home.” My tone is calm, but internally, I’m trying to choose between laughing again and grabbing his hand to run.
How will my family react now that they know thatNatewas the one to kill the council?
“I thought you said a man came in with a gun and killed the council,” Dad says, staring at me with a blank expression.
