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…I’m going to murder my father.
Scalding blood rushes to my face. My eyes sting as I reach for my phone. “No way. I’m going to call him right now and—”
“No. This isn’t your fight, Sugarbee,” he snaps, catching my hand. It’s the first time he’s touched me since he left to see Rina.
His fingers feel warm and slightly calloused around my wrist. Despite everything, it sends electricity zinging through me.
“What do you mean? My stupid dad did this. He’s a child.” And all because of me, though I can’t bear to say it. Anger burns into guilt that tastes like ashes in my mouth. “Please, Archer. You have to let me help.”
He still hasn’t let go of my wrist and he’s closer now, his body almost pressed against mine, eclipsing me. I want him to take the final step and wrap me in his arms, but he doesn’t.
The Archer this morning would have done it in a heartbeat. Why does everything feel so hard now?
“I’ll handle it,” he says gently. “You’ve already been through too much with this asshole.”
Tears prick my eyes.
I thought we were safe, past the worst of it with Holden’s little stunt, but now my dad had to butt in, making my issues a burden again.
He talks about what I’ve been through, but what about him?
Not to mention all the drama he’s gone through before I entered his life.
My father launched a lawsuit—a flippinglawsuit—because he can’t stand me having a shred of free will.
I don’t have words to convey how much I hate this, so I step closer into Archer’s embrace. Thankfully, he hugs me this time, holding me against his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “He’s just mad, lashing out because he can’t control me anymore and he knows it. He’s a toxic control freak.”
“Let him have his fit. I’ll deal with it, Sugarbee.”
“I still want to help you. Any way I can.”
One of those big, rough hands strokes my hair, such a relief that I close my eyes, blinking away the surge of tears.
“You don’t need to worry, Winnie. You’ve done enough of that.”
A messy laugh cuts through the silence and we break apart.
Then I look up and see Colt standing with Delly, who’s holding a lump of wood I thinkshetried to carve. It looks like a mangled bird with one wing.
They’re both doubled over, laughing their heads off.
Ugh.
It’s not just Archer my dad’s attacking. It’s this family, Delly and Colt too—good people I’m growing to love. Innocent people who should be able to enjoy a day out with everybody happy.
Seeing them like this, oblivious to the knife at Archer’s throat, just makes my heart hurt.
No, there’s absolutely no way I’m going to sit back and let the monster who raised me walk all over the entire Rory family. They mean too much.
Archer waves at Colt and my heart pinches again.
Holy shit, this man is putting on one hell of a front for his son.
For me, he tried, but I know him too well.
As soon as I’m home, I’m calling Dad and sorting this out.