His smile turns as hard as his stare. “You should’ve told me about that, baby girl. I know you knew.”
Calm and dismissive. “So what?”
“So …” He steps closer. “I know you’d rather chew your leg off before tying yourself down to some man. Just thought I’d stop by and make sure you weren’t planning something stupid.”
Good thing I have on gardening gloves or else he’d know I have zero intention of letting him get his grubby hands on Wai Po’s money.
The safest thing to do would be to disengage from this situation. To stroke my father’s ego, drop my eyes, let him gloat until he gets bored, then wait for him to leave. He’s a quarry I’m familiar with, and I know exactly what leads to violent reactions.
But with Bill Lamont, my logic always seems to evaporate.
All that’s left is a rage that demands I hurt him.
“You’re pathetic.” I leave my hands loose at my sides, ready to bring them up for defense. “Can’t make your own money, can you? Need an old lady’s cash just to survive?”
His condescending smile morphs into a snarl. “Shut your mouth.”
“Why? So you don’t have to hear about how you’re a waste of oxygen? An embarrassing use of space?”
“You ungrateful bitch. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even exist.” The man who never earned the titlefatherlooms over me. “And I know you’re the reason I’ve been getting those calls!”
I keep all signs of triumph off my face, even as I savor an evil cackle in my mind. Glad to hear the number Leo gave me wasn’t a dud.
There are a few personal ads out in the world now, describing how Bill’s looking for a connection. Specifically, he’s looking for people to call him using a baby voice and commenting how tiny his junk is. Available twenty-four/seven.
Anyone who insults my sister-in-law deserves to be taken down several hundred pegs.
“Get off of my property now.”
“I put a roof over your head for years,” he spits while grabbing for my arm.
I shove his hand away and step hard on his insole, grounding down with my heel until he yelps and stumbles back a limping step.
“That’s assault!”
“Oh, yeah? Go ahead. Call the cops on me.” I paste a wild grin on my face, knowing the expression is eerie as hell from the way he shuffles farther away. “The second you dial those numbers, I’ll be on the phone with Uncle Mike, telling him how you’re getting cozy with the law.” I lean close, making sure he’s listening to the hatred in my voice. “Besides, I’ve got years of you smacking me around to pay back. We’re nowhere close to even. Not when I never called the police on you, no matter how many bruises I went to bed with.”
“You ungrateful, crazy?—”
“Hey!” The single word, barked out from the door of the house, adds another layer of tension to this situation.
Damn it, I yell in my head as Charlie steps through the sliding glass door and approaches us. Why couldn’t he have taken Pig on a longer walk?
Out loud, I say, “I’ll be inside in a minute.”
Take the hint.
But Charlie only strides up beside me, worry creasing deep lines in his face as he flicks his eyes between my father and me. At least Charlie left Pig inside. I can hear her whimpering and don’t know what she’d do around the toxic presence of my father.
“Who’s this—” Bill Lamont ends his question with a disgusting slur he says with ease from a lifetime of use.
My mind blanks for a moment, shame and fury a drowning mixture that engulfs me at the sound of the offensive word my father calls Charlie. Next thing I know, my dad’s backing away, hands raised, sneer twisting his mouth and triumph in his eyes.
That’s when I realize I’m trapped, wrapped in a strong set of arms, which hold me back from clawing my father’s eyes out.
“Let me go,” I snarl.
“That’s what he wants,” Charlie whispers in my ear.
