Page 21 of Heartless As Puck

“Thanks,” he said, tucking them into his bag.

“No problem.”

Ugh. Could this be any more awkward?

I drove him to the stadium, noting as he got out of the car and headed in that he was favoring one foot slightly. Was he injured?

Shit, I should have noticed sooner and done something about it. There was nothing I could do now, though.

I went to school next, parked in the student lot, and made my way to the arts library, where I settled on a comfortable chair. I opened my bag, groaning when I didn’t see my laptop inside. I sifted through, but sure enough, it wasn’t there. Damn.

I considered trying to study from my phone—I didn’t have my tablet with me either—but I really needed my laptop for this. Clara was in a class for another hour, so she wouldn’t be any help. I’d just have to go back and get it.

I closed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, grumbling under my breath. If I hadn’t been so distracted by Austin and our argument, I’d never have made such a silly mistake.

Retracing my steps across campus, I wrapped my arms around myself to combat the chill from the brisk wind whipping through my clothes.

When I reached the Range Rover, I connected the sound system to an audio textbook I’d downloaded and cued it up to read the relevant chapter while I made the journey home. I understood the theory, but I wasn’t great at remembering things just from hearing them. I was more the type of person who needed to write things down to assimilate them.

Instead of pulling into the garage, I parked out front. After all, I’d only be a few minutes. I dashed up the stairs, found my laptop, and carried it back down but came up short.

There, approaching the house’s front door, was a man I’d never met before but would have known anywhere. He was an older version of Austin, slightly softer around the middle and with a harder glint in his eye.

Austin’s father.

I stared up at him, completely taken aback. I’d never expected to come face-to-face with Jon Harris. He and Austin were estranged, and when I’d begun working for Austin, one of the first instructions Gus had given me was to make sure his father’s calls never went through, and that if Jon tried to facilitate contact in any other way, he had to be stonewalled.

This was not a man who should be anywhere near Austin’s home.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, the words slipping from my lips before I could think them through.

“I’m here to see my son. Austin.” His gaze scanned me up and down and seemed to find me lacking. “Who are you?”

“Jane.” I held on to the door with one hand and grabbed the doorframe with the other. I didn’t trust this guy not to try to push past me. I didn’t know much about Austin’s childhood, but I’d heard enough from Hazel to be certain that Jon wasn’t a nice person. “Austin is at training.”

Considering how obsessed Hazel claimed he’d been about Austin’s career, I doubted he didn’t know that. He’d have at least some idea of his training schedule, estranged or not. Obsession didn’t just go away because access to the object of one’s obsession became restricted. If anything, it grew.

“I’ll wait inside.” He sounded so sure of himself, as if he had no concern that I might prevent him from doing so.

I studied him. He was in his mid to late fifties at a guess, with more salt than pepper in his hair and a lined face. The fact that the deepest lines were between his eyebrows and pinched around his lips made him look like he was permanently scowling.

Internally, I debated what to do. Confrontation was one of my least favorite things, and with how shaken up I’d been yesterday, it probably wouldn’t take much for me to lose control of my verbalizations. I didn’t want that to happen in front of a man like this.

I wouldn’t let him in, though. However annoyed I might be with Austin, I wouldn’t subject him to his at best unpleasant or at worst abusive father. He trusted me to keep him safe, and no one deserved to experience a betrayal like that.

“Well?” he demanded, apparently sick of waiting for me to reply.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you in.” There was barely a wobble in my voice. I raised my chin, proud of myself. “I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

My leg started to jitter again, and I willfully stopped it. I could just leave, but there was every chance Jon might go searching for the spare key, and I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t find it. The thing wasn’t all that well hidden, and I could hardly ask him to wait while I went and hid it better.

His expression softened slightly, his lips curving into a smile, but it screamed of insincerity. “Come on, Jane. What harm can it do? I’m his father.”

I was tempted to say something snarky, but I didn’t trust myself not to stutter and I also wasn’t sure how he’d take it. Neither Austin nor Hazel had said anything about him being a misogynist, but considering he’d practically ignored his daughter, I had to assume he didn’t have a high opinion of women, which meant he wouldn’t like one talking back to him. Would he become dangerous?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” I edged toward the car. I could call Austin, but he was probably on the ice, and I was still too mad at Gus—who I was certain was behind Austin’s proposal yesterday—to speak to him.