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“Won’t do half of what I will to that son of a bitch.”
There was murder in his voice. It should’ve frightened me. But it was my lack of protest that terrified me. Because I wanted Alex to suffer just like he’d made me suffer.
“How bad is it?” I whispered.
I couldn’t look to see the damage he’d caused. My arm I could cover up, but my face? I wasn’t that creative.
“Makeup won’t cover it,” Cal said through his teeth.
My face felt tender and swollen. The revelation wasn’t a shock but was still a disappointing blow.
I had to think. How was I going to avoid my brothers for a few days? I couldn’t go to Lincoln’s in this shape.
Though part of me wanted to march into Hollingsworth Properties and force my father to look at what he’d done. Maybe he hadn’t laid a finger on me, but he’d put me in this position.
He’d watched. And done nothing.
The hatred I'd felt for Cal seemed dim in comparison to what I felt toward my father. At least Cal had had the decency not to torment me with mind games. It had nearly killed me when he let me go, but he hadn't dragged it out.
Father weaved between little things he'd say and do that made me believe he cared so that when he was awful, it made me doubt myself and my judgment. It was a constant push and pull. A love and hate. And I’d allowed it to continue because he was the only parent I had left. Iwantedus to have a good relationship. I didn’t know how to stop the vicious cycle we were in.
“This wasn’t the first time, was it?” The question was lethally quiet.
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Are you taking up for him?” Cal roared. “He was a step away from bashing in your face. What’s after that? He kills you? Your dad shouldn’t—”
“No,” I shouted, then clutched my jaw to numb the pain. Had I said that out loud? Because he was right. My dad shouldn’t have allowed that maniac to touch me. Surely he’d be calling off the wedding now. Surely he wouldn’t entrust me to that . . . asshole. Surely I was worth more to my father than that.
Cal closed his eyes and turned his head as if trying to collect himself. “You haven’t seen the damage.” When he looked at me again, it took my breath. “You’re too precious to be broken.”
My nose tingled.
I hadn’t shed a single tear through the whole ordeal. Leave it to Cal to say something sweet, to make me feel appreciated, and I was close to the flood gates opening.
I put my forehead to his chest and scooted closer. I needed to forget. To regroup. To think.
And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the only thing that made me feel safe was Cal.
Garrett.
And I felt welcome.Wanted.
You’re too precious to be broken.
Maybe to Garrett I was.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cal
“You want me to answer that?”
Her phone lit for no less than the twentieth time this morning. It was barely noon. And most of the calls were from the same person.
Her father.
“No.”
