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“I know you already asked Rory about this. Did you ask Levi too? Am I the last one?”
A flush rises to my cheeks. Shit. I guess eavesdropping can go both ways. Was he listening in on my conversation with Rory the other night? Or did Rory tell him about it later? I don’t know which option is worse, honestly.
Instead of answering Sloan, I lift one shoulder in a shrug, standing up and wiping my hands on the rag before tossing it on the ground.
“Is it a crime for me to want to know what’s going on with my dad? Why won’t you just tell me?” I gesture around at the house and the yard, where there’s not another soul in sight. “Who am I gonna tell? The only people I talk to anymore are you guys and Scarlett, and I’m not gonna tell her anything that could put her in danger.”
Sloan stares at me for a long moment. He’s done such a good job of ignoring me for the past several days that having his entire focus turned on me so intensely now makes me feel like I’m under a microscope. I feel like he can see much more than most people do when they look at me, and I don’t like it.
Silence hangs in the air between us, and he hesitates for so long that I almost start to wonder if he’s actually considering telling me.
Then he shakes his head sharply, his eyes darkening. “I won’t tell you because I don’t trust you. You’re your father’s daughter.”
His words piss me off. It’s not that I really expect any of these men to trust me, and I certainly don’t trust them. But I hate the way he’s looking at me with his lip curling up in something almost like a sneer, as if I’m a piece of shit he wants to scrape off his shoe.
As if I’m nothing, and so is my dad.
I take a step toward him, my hands curling unconsciously into fists. “Yeah. I fucking am my father’s daughter. And I’m proud of that. At least he works an honest living. At least his entire livelihood doesn’t depend on wrecking other people’s lives. He’s a better man than you or any of your friends could ever hope to be.”
Sloan snorts. “Tell yourself whatever you need to so you can sleep at night, sweetheart.”
I grit my teeth. “Jesus, why are you such a fucking asshole? At least Levi and Rory make some attempt to not be dicks about this whole thing, but you seem like you’re enjoying it. Do you get off on this kind of thing? On wrecking people’s lives?” I let out a harsh laugh. “I guess you’re your father’s son too. I only met the guy once, and I can already tell he’s an asshole.”
Sloan moves fast, crossing the short distance that separates us and getting in my face. My adrenaline spikes, but I don’t give any ground, not even as he looms over me.
Shit. That was stupid. It was definitely the dumbest thing I’ve done since I arrived here. Scarlett warned me to be careful, and insulting the head of the Black Rose gang in front of his son is the literal definition of the word “reckless.”
But I don’t care. Sloan doesn’t get to talk shit about my dad like that. He doesn’t get to pretend he’s better than me or my family just because he has more power and sway in this town.
Fuck that.
“I would be very careful about what you say next,” he tells me quietly, his voice a dangerous purr.
“Or what?”
Okay, I was wrong before. That was the stupidest thing I’ve done since arriving. I basically just dared Sloan to take out all the pent-up anger that always seems to simmer beneath his skin on me. I just threw down a gauntlet, openly taunting him.
His jaw tightens, and I can feel the tension in his body radiating into me from where his chest brushes lightly against mine. My own body tenses, ready to slip into fight mode and defend myself if need be. If Rory and Levi come outside, I’ll be outnumbered, but if it’s just me and Sloan…
Even if I don’t win that fight, I could at least make him sorry he started it.
But Sloan doesn’t make a move. He just stares down at me, his eyes bouncing between mine.
“You should stop asking questions about shit you don’t understand, princess,” he murmurs gruffly. “Levi and Rory can do whatever the fuck they want, but I’m not interested in making your stay here more pleasant. You’re not here to be our friend. You’re not here to be our anything. And we don’t owe you shit.”
With that, he steps back from me. The movement is slow, almost as if he’s dragging himself away—or maybe it’s just because the air is so thick with tension that it’s literally become hard to walk through.
He turns and heads toward the house, stopping only to toss a few parting words over his shoulder.
“I am my father’s son. And I’m proud of it.”
With that, he disappears inside.
10
I stare after Sloan, my heart pounding hard and fast. A dozen different emotions are crashing around in my chest, and I have to consciously work to uncurl my fingers from the tight fists they
’re wrapped in.
