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Their relationship is volatile. They feed off each other’s toxicity. James gets abusive when he’s drunk, which is often. I doubt he’s changed much because he’s pretty much guzzled down an entire bottle of wine by himself and he looks a little twitchy, as if he can’t wait to get his hands on something stronger.
“Of course, we had to get a new car to go with the house. A Range Rover. James has always wanted one.”
Unease settles in my gut as I lift my glass and take a sip of water, studying my mother and James over my glass with narrowed eyes. A new house and a luxury vehicle? At their age? Rebecca has always craved a wealthy lifestyle, which means her dream house is probably insanely expensive. Yet, she doesn’t work, and James’s salary isn’t exactly in Range Rover vicinity... and shouldn’t he be retired by now?
Mel seems to be thinking the same thing because she gives me a knowing look. I told her how Rebecca showed up at my place and about my suspicion that she knows about the fortune I inherited. We both believe she’s here for more than a family visit.
I put my glass down and sit back. “So, James, aren’t you retired, or are you still selling insurance?”
His face goes red, and his dark brown eyes seem to turn obsidian. A snarl lifts his lips. I remain unfazed because I know the face of the devil very well. It’s the expression he’d get when he used to throw punches at anyone unlucky enough to be in his way.
Rebecca sucks in a breath and freezes, giving me an accusing glare. That’s confirmation enough that her precious James hasn’t changed one bit. She’s still terrified of him.
“You think you’re better than me, boy?” He’s practically baring his teeth at me.
I quirk an eyebrow. “How did you arrive at that conclusion?”
“What are you implying, asking about my employment status? You think you’re better off?”
I frown. Of course, he’d turn this into a huge thing. He’s always been miserable about not making the money he thinks he should have made in his youth. As if there’s something wrong with honest work. But he’s like my mother—constantly living way above his means.
“I’m a firefighter, James. We pretty much have the same salary. So, no.”
Kevin grunts his agreement. “Yeah, we’re not exactly making millions,” he grumbles.
James, however, has taken it upon himself to turn my simple question into a war. “No!” He throws his napkin down and jumps to his feet, wagging a finger at me.
Kevin and Grace eye the madman warily while Mel holds her head down and rubs her forehead. We’re accustomed to James going from zero to one hundred for absolutely no reason.
I stifle a sigh.And here we go.
“You think you’re better than me. You always have. Even as a little teenage brat, you’ve always thought so.”
Looking skyward, I tell him, “I think you need to ease off the alcohol for the rest of the evening.”
“You see?” He turns to Rebecca for validation.
She reaches for his hand. “James, honey, just calm down.”
He slaps her hand away, and she shrinks into her chair. I almost feel sorry for her. “You’re not better than me, Rowan. Your own father didn’t want you. Hell, your mother didn’t either.”
“Shut up, James!”
Silence ups the tension in the room, and all eyes turn to Grace. Her cheeks are flushed, but she holds my stepfather in a steady glare as her fingers tighten on my thigh.
I gaze at her profile, amazed. A fist wraps around my heart and squeezes, but it’s because of overwhelming gratitude. I’m not accustomed to anyone standing up for me like this.
The vise around my heart constricts some more. Was Matt right about me being in love with her? This is the worst time to sort through my feelings for Grace.
As if realizing her outburst, she purses her lips and sits back, giving me an apologetic look. One corner of my lips twitches. It’s always a little amusing when she has a flare of temper, then immediately cools down and returns to her sweet, mildly timid self.
“This has nothing to do with you,” James says, glowering at Grace.
Before he opens his mouth to say another word, I tell him, “Maybe I am better than you, James.”
I’m glad his attention returns to me because if he utters one negative word at my woman, I’ll have to break the old man’s jaw... and I’d really like to avoid that.
“I have my flaws, but at least I don’t beat up on women and children.”
