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“Not at first. Your name was familiar, but it wasn’t until you glared at me that I knew for sure who you were.”
“Who he is?” She turned back toward Jett. “What’s he talking about?”
“That’s the same look you gave me every day in court.” He waved his finger at Jett. “Wouldn’t forget it.” Her head whipped around.
“Court?” Abbie and Chris blurted at the same time.
“Ah, so you haven’t told her, then?” Her father grinned, and it was a slimy grin, one she’d never seen before.
“Told me what?”
“I put Jett away for…how long was it again?”
Jett’s jaw tensed so much she thought he’d break a tooth. “Seven years,” he gritted out, like the words pained him.
“Put Jett away…” She stared at him. “What does that mean?”
“You were in prison?” Chris asked, his face shifting from confusion to anger.
Prison?
Jett was in prison?
Her mind spun as the words sunk in. Her gaze darted between her father and Jett, searching for the truth in their expressions. Surely this was a misunderstanding. She knew Jett, knew his past, but…did she really?
Her voice trembled as she spoke, the words barely audible, but she knew everyone heard them. “Is it true?”
The table fell into an uncomfortable silence, only the faint clinking of cutlery against plates and the distant murmur of other diners filling the air. Her mother’s face shifted into a smug grin, like she was relishing in this new information. How could she be so vile?
Jett cleared his throat as he turned toward her. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick, his face twisted in an expression she couldn’t understand. “Yes,” he choked out. “I was—but?—”
“Prison,” she breathed, her lips parting. Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. No, this was a bad dream, a nightmare. It wasn’t real. She’d wake up at any moment.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake—
“Abbie?” He reached for her, but she pulled away. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears. Abruptly, she shoved her chair back and stood, staring at the faces around the table. All she wanted was for Daddy to wrap his arms around her, comfort her and protect her from everything she was feeling, but how could he do that when he was the reason for her emotions? He was the reason she was on the verge of the biggest panic attack of her life. It was his fault that betrayal and embarrassment burned in her chest.
Cautiously, Jett rose, his shoulders rounded in. “Let me explain,” he breathed, his voice strained. “Abbie, please?—”
“I can’t—” She shook her head. “I can’t do this.” Her mother let out a bright laugh as she grabbed her wine glass and swirled the contents, watching her and Jett like she was enjoying the show.
“I think you should go,” her father said as he stood, straightening his suit jacket. But she didn’t want that, did she? She knew she should want that, to be far away from a criminal, but she just wanted him. Needed him.
The words wouldn’t come, though. No matter how hard she tried to force them out, they stayed in. So she stared at him as he looked around the table before his gaze landed on her again.
“Baby,” he rasped, and her chin trembled. “It’s not what you think.”
Her father laughed loudly, sarcastically. “If I would’ve known my daughter was seeing you, I would’ve never allowed it. You’re a dangerous man, capable of putting multiple men in the hospital, nearly killing one?—”
“What?” she cried, stumbling back a step.
“No.” He reached for her, but she moved back another step. Her back ran into a hard chest and she glanced over her shoulder, finding Chris standing behind her, glaring at Jett. Slowly, he shifted his body between them, blocking Jett from her. “That’s not it?—”
“You should go,” Chris growled. “If you contact Abbie again, we’ll have a problem. Understand?”
