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“Do you read the book you preach, Mr. Goodwin?” I demanded over Genevieve. I should’ve let her speak, but I was too riled up.
“It’s Pastor Goodwin,” he snapped.
“Pastors are men of God,” I reminded him. “When was the last time you ever did anything worthy of God, Mr. Goodwin? And I don’t mean the fucking facade you put on for the church-going sheep willing to follow you blindly without question.”
He stepped up close, getting in my face. His dark eyes flashed with anger, and a deep growl ripped through my chest in response.
“There he is,” Phillip said darkly. “The violent man you pretend you’re not. I see right through you, boy. You may have them fooled, but not me. I see you for what you are.”
“You don't know a damn thing about me,” I snarled.
“I can see you shaking. I know you want to hit me, don’t you? But you won’t, will you?” He was goading me, but fuck if I’d fall for it. “Afraid to hit someone that’ll fight back?”
My jaw ticked, and I clenched my fists. What I wouldn’t fucking do to hit the man. If anyone deserves it, it was him.
“I’m not afraid of a damn thing, so I suggest you stay in your lane as far as we’re concerned because I’m no puppy with my tail between my legs,” I growled, leaning in closer so only he could hear me. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you a goddamn war. I’ll lay out your sins for the whole world to see how far the holy man has fallen. You think you know the kind of man I am, but I know the kind you are. Just remember that. I know what you did to those girls. I know your secrets, you hypocritical bastard. I don’t need to hit you to hurt you.”
“Okay.” Genevieve wedged between me and her father, gently laying her hands on my chest as if to hold me back. She whispered, “Killian, please don’t.”
And there it was. That silent desperation in those gorgeous golden eyes. It wrapped around my heart and held on tight in a fucking vice grip. That look was the only reason I ever backed down. This wasn’t my fight. It was hers—her secret, her pain, her battle.
I was just collateral damage.
And fuck, I didn’t want to be.
I wanted to protect her from him, but she couldn’t handle the idea of the world knowing. The shame would kill her. She couldn’t see it wasn’t her who was the problem. He was. But I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t hurt her like that.
So, I did what I’d always done: I backed down.
I wouldn’t keep fighting him. Instead, I focused on her. My gaze swept down her body quickly, taking an assessment of the woman in front of me. Fuck, she hurt to look at. Three fucking years and it was evident he had all his claws right back into her. The goddamn skirts were back along with the high-neck sweaters—every inch of her covered in modesty.
Reaching out, I brushed a single coil of hair away from her temple. Was he on her about her hair? She loved her curls, loved the texture of her hair. So did I. It was wayward and gorgeous. He called it unruly and inappropriate. For years, starting at sixteen, they made her straighten it, so she’d look respectable.
Fuck respectable. She deserved to be happy.
I grabbed a fistful of her sweater at the stomach and dragged her closer. I was definitely making a fucking scene, but I didn’t care. Fueled by that intoxicating scent of hers and the desperate look in her eyes, I wasn’t about to back down until she understood that.
“You deserve better than what they’re putting you through, Genevieve,” I told her softly. “You deserve to be happy.”
“Killian, don’t get involved,” she begged.
“Too late, princess, I’m back, and unless you divorce me, I’m staying involved. You’re mine.” Yeah, I should’ve walked away instead of running at the fucking mouth. I’d regret this shit later.“No one hurts what’s mine.”
Those full lips popped open, and her eyes widened. I let her go and turned away, stalking toward the pack house.
Chapter 38
Genevieve
I’m not afraid of a damn thing, so I suggest you stay in your lane as far as we’re concerned because I’m no puppy with my tail between my legs,” Killian growled as he leaned in closer to my father. Oh no. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you a goddamn war. I’ll lay out your sins for the whole world to see how far the holy man has fallen. You think you know the kind of man I am, but I know the kind you are. Just remember that. I know what you did to those girls. I know your secrets, you hypocritical bastard. I don’t need to hit you to hurt you.”
No, no, no.
“Okay.” I surged forward and wedged myself between the two of them. Killian’s gaze dropped down to me as I laid my hands on his chest. If anyone could get him to back down, it was me. I whispered with hopes only he would hear me, “Killian, please don’t.”
Those midnight eyes searched my face, and I couldn’t look away. Everyone always said the six Byrnes had the same eyes, but I didn’t think so. There was something dark and stormy about Killian’s—heavy with the unspoken emotions he carried like a burden.
How much of that was my fault?
