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“Use it then and let her have a fucking career first. If you’re lucky, she’ll still be around.”
Anger punctures my eyes. He’s saying that she might not want to marry me once she’s established a career. “Say that in front of Willow,” I sneer at Jonathan. He’d never utter half the vile shit he’s been spewing if his daughter were around.
He bites into a soggy biscuit.
I can’t shut my mouth. “Right.” I nod. “You’re a gutless fish.”
Ryke and Lo go rigid in shock.
And then Jonathan wipes his mouth with a napkin, his eyes lethal as he says, “You’re a fucking cunt.”
“Hey!” Ryke yells, gripping the table like he could flip it. “For fuck’s sake, he’s going to be your son-in-law, back the fuck off him.”
My hammering pulse is in my ears.
Jonathan stands, zeroing in only on me. “I’m not skirting around you, Garrison, and you should thank me for not patting you on the ass like a goddamn toddler.”
I let out a short, sardonic laugh. “Thank you, I’m just so grateful to hear that you think I rushed a proposal after I proposed only two days ago.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re a petulant child. Grow up.”
“Dad,” Lo snarls, and if looks could kill, Jonathan would be butchered in a million serrated pieces by Lo. But likewise, his glare is slaughtering his own son.
I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that. It scares the shit out of me, but my brain is shrieking, fuck him. “I am grown up. The only one kicking and screaming is you.”
He swings his head to me, about to eat me alive. “You ungrateful son of a bitch—”
“Jesus Christ, don’t fucking attack him,” Lo cuts in, springing to his feet while I stay tilted back in my chair like the degenerate I’m sure Jonathan thinks I am.
Lo blocks his dad from me, and Ryke is standing, sort of between me and his brother. I think in case either of us need him.
Jonathan is seething, glare skewering me. “He said he’s a man, Loren, so he should be able to talk to me man-to-man without you coming to his defense.” He continues, “Come on, Garrison. You’re all grown up, aren’t you? Show me.”
I grind my teeth, my stomach in knots, and my heated eyes sear the table. I’m shutting down, not wanting deeper in this shit.
I want out.
No part of me wants to prove how big of a man I am. I can’t prove shit to him, so what’s the fucking point?
I push back, standing up from the table.
Ryke and Lo are speaking to their dad with heat and urgency, but he’s not listening to them.
“You’re leaving?” Jonathan calls out to me incredulously, like our joust has just begun. He shouts at me as I walk off. “Is that how you’ll be with my daughter? When the fight gets hard, you’re just going to run away?!”
I will always protect Willow, but I don’t need to convince anyone of that.
The hotel elevator is inside the penthouse, and as I reach my escape, Connor exits the bathroom, pocketing his cellphone. His eyes ping to me and then the echoes of Ryke, Lo, and Jonathan’s heated argument.
“I leave for five minutes,” he says calmly to himself, then sweeps me and then the elevator. “You’re going?”
I nod. “To brunch.” I’m crashing the girls’ thing. Willow won’t care.
“Wait here.” His soothing voice somehow hypnotizes me to obey. I wait at the elevator, and he disappears. Two seconds later, Ryke and Lo are in his company, their confident strides aimed for the elevator.
I make a confused face.
“We’re all going to brunch,” Connor informs me, pushing the elevator button. We don’t wait long for the doors to slide open, and the four of us file in.
I hang behind them. They’re all fucking tall, all towering, and the way they stand like a defensive brick wall—it feels like they’re shielding me. Paparazzi might be in the lobby. I think Connor is texting security.
But it’s more than that.
Ryke glances back at me. “You okay?”
I can only nod.
Lo looks back next.
Then Connor.
They’re all checking on me. And I have to stare at the elevator wall because something pricks my eyes. I blink a few times. Don’t fucking cry.
It’s okay to cry.
Lo told me that.
It’s okay to cry.
I look up at the ceiling, a tear rolling down my jaw. I’m not emotional because of anything Jonathan said.
I’m emotional because I got the three brothers I always wished I had.
Connor, Ryke, and Lo—they protect me all the time. They care about me when they don’t have to. These are three brothers that I’d never trade in, never swap out, and even though we’re not blood related, I know they’re mine.
In the men’s bathroom at brunch, Lo and I find ourselves alone, and I end up confessing that I don’t know what to do about Jonathan.
