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“Lying, little bitch. You couldn’t just let me have this could you?”
“Dad!” His words cut me open like jagged glass. No matter how much time passed or how old I got, when he got nasty like this, I was still the small girl desperately wanting her father to love her.
“That’s not fair.” My voice shook. “All I have ever wanted is for you to notice me.”
“Notice you?” He laughed, but it was a brittle sound. “I’ve spent the last eighteen years trying my damned hardest to forget about you.”
“Why? Why would you say that?” Pain lashed my insides. “What is so awful about having a daughter?”
“Because you were supposed to be my boy.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “You were supposed to be my legacy. And instead, I got stuck with you.”
My heart didn’t just break. It shattered. I’d always known he hated me. But knowing it and hearing him actually say the words were two very different things.
“I think you should leave,” I said, voice trembling and tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready. Now get me that drink.”
“No.”
“No?” His bloodshot eyes fixed on mine. “I had it, Harper. I had it, and then it was gone, but being here, working with the team, that was my shot, and you ruined it. You ruined—”
“Enough.”
Mason stepped up behind me, and relief and shame warred inside me as I sagged against him.
He was here. Mason was here, and I was so freaking relieved and so deeply, utterly ashamed.
“Mason, son. What are you doing here?”
“With all due respect, sir, what are you doing?”
“Mase,” I grabbed his arm as he stepped around me, putting himself between my father and me.
My father tutted. “Don’t be worrying yourself about Harper. She was just about to get me a drink.” He tilted his head toward the bar. “What’s a guy got to do to get a drink around this place.”
“Dad, please, stop…”
“Don’t talk to me, you little Judas. I’m telling you, Mason, don’t ever trust a woman. They’ll only stab you in the back the second you turn around.”
“Okay, we’re leaving,” Mason went to grab my father, but he shoved him off.
“I’m not leaving until she admits she sold me out to Joe.”
“It wasn’t Harper.” Anger vibrated from every inch of Mason.
“What are you saying, kid?”
“I was the one who told Coach Tucker, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“You what?” Dad shot up out of his seat and got right in Mason’s face.
“Dad!” I shrieked, lunging for them, but Kal rushed over and grabbed me, pulling me away from them.
“Kal, do something,” I begged.
“Your guy can handle himself,” he said. “Look.”
Sure enough, Mason stood his ground, standing taller than my father by about an inch. But it wasn’t his height that gave him the ace card; it was his expression. That arctic gaze that had frozen me to the core on more than one occasion.
