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Vanessa finally broke it. “I’ll see you soon.” She hugged her mother first, her chin moving to her shoulder.
Her mother held the back of her head as she squeezed her. “Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, Mama.”
Her mother kissed her on the forehead before she let her go.
Vanessa moved to her father next and rested her face against his chest. Crow was the same height as I was, and despite his older age, he still had impressive musculature. He kept busy at the winery, lifting things and constantly moving. He must lift weights too in order to get that kind of definition. “I love you, Father,” she whispered against him.
He kissed her on the forehead, his eyes closing. “I love you too, tesoro. So much…”
Crow never showed a moment of vulnerability to me. He was cold like steel and sharp like a knife. But now, he was just a man who loved his daughter. He showed me that weakness on purpose, to remind me that he loved her in a way I never could, that he’d loved her all her life.
I’d only been around a few months.
I could never compete with him.
We both knew it.
He let her go, affection in his eyes.
Vanessa crossed the threshold and joined me on the other side of the door.
I stared at both of her parents, unsure what to say. I didn’t know what had transpired while I was drinking my worries away, but it seemed like they’d ended the conversation on better terms. My eyes shifted to Pearl. “I’m Griffin…we didn’t formally meet before.”
She stared at me, her arms across her chest. She didn’t seem to hate me, but she didn’t seem to like me either. She kept her silence, dismissing me.
I didn’t take offense to the way she brushed me off. I turned away with Vanessa.
“Griffin.” Pearl’s voice came to me.
I turned back around, unsure what Vanessa’s mother wanted to say to me. It was probably another insult, something to accompany what Crow had already said earlier. “Yes, ma’am?” I didn’t say sir or ma’am ever. This was the one exception to that.
She kept her arms crossed over her chest. “Did she ever show you her painting?”
I knew she was referring to the one Vanessa made of me standing in the snow at Lake Garda. The picture was permanently ingrained in my mind because I’d stared at it for so long. It was fascinating to see the way she viewed me, the way she loved me despite my coldness. Vanessa told me her mother saw the painting by accident—and that was how she knew she loved me. “Yes.”
Her eyes remained steady on my face, and she didn’t blink as she looked at me. There was a hint of emotion in her gaze, a mixture of hatred and compassion. “That’s the only reason I’m standing here.”
We didn’t speak for the first thirty minutes of the drive.
Vanessa looked out the passenger window with her legs pulled to her chest. She normally sat in the middle seat right beside me, but she obviously wanted her space at the moment. She watched the golden fields pass as the night started to deepen. There was no talk of dinner because neither one of us was hungry.
I glanced at her from time to time, making sure she wasn’t on the verge of tears.
She didn’t say anything, probably unsure where to start.
I didn’t say anything either, wanting to enjoy this comfortable silence a little longer. If she wanted to stay like this for the entire drive, it was fine by me. All I wanted to do was go home, make love, and then go to sleep.
We had nothing good to talk about.
When the sun was finally gone, Vanessa spoke. “I’m sorry about the way my father—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She sighed. “It hurt me to listen to it…I hated it.”
“I know, baby.” I kept my eyes on the road, feeling her emotion fill the car. “That went exactly as I expected it to.”
“I know…I really thought my father would be reasonable. You aren’t your father. You’re a different person. It was a long time ago. But he doesn’t think that way.”
“My father did terrible things to him. I can’t say I blame him.”
“But it’s different…”
“Hate is just as powerful as love.”
“It’s not as powerful.”
“Your father seemed a little tamer than he was earlier.”
“We talked for a long time,” she said. “At first, he was cold and ruthless. He said a lot of terrible things. But he calmed down, and we had a real conversation about it. I told him you wanted to hurt them until you fell in love with me.”
“I’m surprised you told them.”
“My father wanted to know why you call yourself Bones if you don’t share his ideology.”
I nodded in agreement. “And what did he say?”
“He said he doesn’t trust you and probably never will. But I told them I needed them to try to get to know the man I know. I told them if they loved me, they would at least make the attempt. You made the attempt for me because you love me…they need to do the same.”
