AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thanks, Father.”
When my father looked at Bones, his affection disappeared instantly. The only greeting he gave Bones was a cold look.
Bones didn’t wait for the handshake that wasn’t coming. He pulled out the chair so I could sit down and took a seat in the other chair.
“It’s nice to see both of you,” Bones said politely.
My father stared at him like he’d just heard an insult instead of a greeting.
My mother was the only one who could say something back. “Thank you.” She grabbed her menu and looked down at it.
Bones didn’t seem to care about the cold response. He would normally have his arm resting on the back of my chair or his hand on my thigh, but he didn’t do either of those things. He kept his hands in his lap, taking up as little space as possible. He was by far the most handsome man in the room, gorgeous from head to toe. If I weren’t so involved in the situation, I would be pissed about all the women making eyes at him.
My father sat directly across from Bones with the menu in his hands. He barely looked at the menu for more than a few seconds before he looked at Bones again, like he might miss something important.
Things seemed to be getting worse rather than better.
“What are you getting?” I asked Bones as I held my menu for him to read.
“Salmon.”
“You always eat fish.”
He shrugged. “I like it.”
“Well, I’m getting the lasagna.” I shut my menu then grabbed the piece of bread from the basket.
“Good choice,” he said.
My mother shut her menu then grabbed her glass of red wine. “So…how are you?” There was no good way to break the ice between all of us. This was a terrible situation, uncomfortable for everyone.
“Good,” I answered. “I’ve been working on my artwork. Griffin has been working in his office a lot.”
“Are you painting at his place?” Mom asked quizzically.
A part of me wanted to lie, but I knew we had to be honest about everything. “Griffin made me an art studio at his place. It has a large window that overlooks the city, and it has the perfect morning light. It has enough room for all my supplies.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said. “That explains how you can fit all those paintings somewhere.”
My father set down his menu and stared at Bones without blinking.
Bones held his gaze, maintaining the standoff.
God, this was bad.
“Are you two living together?” Mom asked, her eyebrow raised.
“No,” I said quickly. “I just spend a lot of time there. After the whole thing with Knuckles, my apartment has never felt the same.”
My father’s eyes shifted to me. “Why didn’t you tell me that? I could have gotten you a better place. I could have bought you anything you wanted—”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew that was exactly what you would say,” I said quickly. “I don’t want your money, Father. I’ve already taken enough from you.”
“I don’t mind giving it to you, tesoro,” he said. “I would much rather you take my money than stay with trash like him.”
I respected my father’s anger, but I was getting fed up with the insults. “Stop talking to him like—”
“Let it go,” Bones said. “It’s fine. He can call me whatever he wants.”
“And I will.” My father clenched his jaw. “And I can get you a new place to stay.”
“It’s not just about the place,” I said. “I just like knowing…” I didn’t finish my sentence, not wanting to share anything too intimate that would make the conversation even more tense. “He makes me feel safe. I already said that.”
“Conway is right down the road,” my father said. “You can stay with him.”
“He’s getting married and has a baby on the way,” I said. “He doesn’t want me there.”
“Then find another guy,” my father countered. “A better one, and one who isn’t a murderer.”
Bones kept a straight face, taking all of this with no reaction. He was the kind of man who shut down insults before they were even uttered. He wasn’t afraid to cause a scene or tell someone off. But he kept his silence—for me.
“Father, stop,” I said, keeping my voice low because we were in public. “I don’t need a man to take care of me or make me feel safe. That’s not the purpose of having someone. But Griffin makes me feel invincible, like nothing could ever hurt me. I’m not afraid of someone coming through the front door to hurt me because he would never let that happen. Just the way you make Mom feel safe, I feel safe with him. And I don’t feel that way with just anyone.”
“You don’t feel safe with me?” my father asked. “My whole life, all I’ve done is keep you safe. I’m telling you now, I don’t like the man you’ve chosen, and I don’t trust him. But now, you don’t listen to me.”
