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This couldn’t have gone any worse.
My father walked behind him, aiming the gun right at his back.
“Father.” I pushed the barrel toward the ground. “Enough.”
“Vanessa.” He flashed me a terrifying look, one I’d never seen before. “Back off.” He followed Bones all the way to the door, the gun still trained on him.
Bones stepped outside to the roundabout, his feet crunching on the gravel. He turned around and looked at me, silently asking if I was coming with him.
I shook my head slightly, my eyes still wet.
“Let me know when you want me to pick you up.” He turned around again and walked to the truck, his body vulnerable to two bullets in his back. He got in the driver’s seat, started the truck, and then pulled onto the road.
My father finally dropped the gun but stared down the road until Bones’s truck was completely gone from sight. Then he turned to me, giving me a searing look packed with so much disappointment it was painful.
It was like he hated me.
Uncle Cane left, and my father went upstairs to talk to my mother.
I sat at the dining table, exactly where Bones had been sitting thirty minutes ago. Lars brought me coffee and lunch. I told him I wasn’t hungry, but he insisted on bringing me something. I sipped the coffee but didn’t touch the food. My head was propped against my hand, and I stared into the dark coffee, the smell of espresso not calming me the way it usually did.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
I didn’t expect my family to be thrilled about it.
But I didn’t think my father would call Bones trash either.
Fuck, this was a nightmare.
A few minutes later, both of my parents came into the room. I didn’t look at either of them right away, needing a moment to gather my bearings before I looked my mother in the eye. I hoped she would be more understanding, but when I looked into her gaze, I only saw disappointment.
I held my cup with both hands and felt the warmth heat my fingers.
They sat across from me, the open window behind them. Spring was more apparent in this part of Italy, and it was beautiful. The sun was warm, and the birds were singing.
I looked at both of them, seeing the two people I loved most in this world. My mother was smart, compassionate, and strong. My father was a powerful man who showed his weakness only to his family. I’d learned so much from both of them. But now it felt like an entire ocean was in between us.
My father leaned back against his chair, his posture completely different from how it’d been when Bones was there. He wasn’t on his guard with me, but his disappointment was suffocating.
My mom brought her hands together on the table, her thumbs rubbing together.
I guessed I would speak first. “Mom, the only reason I didn’t include you was because I thought Father wouldn’t want you there…to keep you safe somewhere else.”
“And you were right.” My father stared me down like I was his enemy rather than his daughter. “I don’t want my wife anywhere near that piece of trash.”
“He’s not trash…” I held his gaze, keeping myself strong just the way he was. “You can say you don’t like him. You can say he’s wrong for me. But you can’t say that…because it’s not true.”
My father didn’t show a hint of remorse. “I’ve been dreading this day since you were born. But I told myself I’d raised a smart and powerful woman. I’d raised a woman who refused to accept anything less than the best. I told myself that it would be alright, that you would introduce me to a man who was actually worthy of you. But then you brought him…my worst fucking nightmare.” My father never cussed around me, but all manners were off the table now. “I’ll never accept him, Vanessa. He’s not welcome in this family, and he never will be. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”
Every single word was more painful than the last. “You’re being unreasonable. He came in here handcuffed to a chair and handed you a loaded gun. How many other men would be brave enough to do that? For me?”
“He’s not brave. He’s arrogant.”
“Yes, he is,” I said. “But he wasn’t arrogant today. Griffin is a powerful man who doesn’t accept an insult from anyone. You said the most hurtful thing to him…and he did nothing. I’ve never seen him restrain himself like that.”
“I’m glad the insult hurt. I hope it hurt more than a bullet.”
My eyes narrowed on my father’s face, not recognizing him. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” my father said coldly. “Stop protecting you? Never. Be as angry as you want. I’ll never stop.”
“No, that’s not what you’re doing. You hate him just because of who his father is—”
