“What’s going on? You scared the crap out of me, Dad,” I tell him while my heart continues to race.
“You’re not going to see that son of a bitch again!”
Ah, he must have run into Barrett outside. Damn. I hope he’s still in one piece.
“Since I didn’t hear any gunshots, does that mean he’s still alive?”
My grandmother gives a small nod while my father ignores the question.
“What were you thinking, Lyla? You’re a good girl! You’ve got a bright future, and that boy is just some outlaw biker.”
“Yeah, well, so are you!”
“He’s also your sister’s ex-husband!”
“You didn’t have a problem with him when he was with Laurel…” His forehead wrinkles as he glares at me. “What?”
“Jesus, baby girl, you don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
My dad glances at my grandma and then to me. “Tonight, Laurel married someone else.”
“Yeah. And?”
“And he used you!”
“No, he didn’t,” I immediately respond.
“He used you like-like some kind of payback for her breaking his heart!”
“You’re wrong.”
I look to my grandmother, hoping she’ll step in and tell him he’s out of his mind. She doesn’t make a peep.
“He could’ve let me catch him on purpose, so she’ll find out,” my father says.
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Don’t be naive, Ly. He’s a man, a hurt man who wanted to hurt Laurel back by fucking her little sister on her wedding night!” I flinch at his use of the f-word, even though it’s technically what we did. Hearing him say it, though, makes it sound so…so meaningless. It didn’t seem that way at the time. But now that it’s over and Barrett’s gone without a word about seeing me again, I’m not so sure…
“You look a helluva lot like your sister, Lyla,” he adds, and I’m already shaking my head.
Tears well up in my eyes as a small seed of doubt he’s planted begins to grow. Laurel and I do have the same red hair as our mother, similar-colored green eyes. But that’s where the similarities end. Was that enough for Barrett to pretend I’m her? I weigh at least thirty pounds more and don’t have her perfectly flawless face…
“It was no coincidence he was in your bed tonight. But it will be the last time. You will never see him again. If he steps foot in this house, I’ll blow his brains out. Do you hear me?”
“Do you even hear yourself? I’m not a child! I can vote, drink, and fuck whoever I want,” I tell him, throwing the f-word right back at him, making him cringe. “Your threats won’t change that.”
“If you’re not a child, then stop acting so goddamn childish.”
A puff of laughter escapes me because this is all so absurd. He’s ruining my amazing night. “Didn’t we just have a conversation where you encouraged me to date?”
“Not him.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Dad, but you can’t tell me who I can or can’t see.”
He stares at me, chest heaving for a long, drawn-out moment. “Then pack your shit.”
“What?” I gasp in disbelief.
“You either have to live by my rules, or you have to leave. Those are your two choices.”
“Isaac?” my grandma says as she reaches for his arm, but he shakes her off.
“I’ve made my decision,” he turns to tell her.
“You can’t be serious,” she huffs. “It’s late. You’re making a rash decision you’ll regret,” she says, but he doesn’t respond. “Listen, why don’t we all just take a deep breath to cool down? It’s been a long day. We’re all tired.”
While my grandma tries to mediate, I seethe, furious at how he’s treating me. How he’s always treated me like I was made of glass while Laurel did whatever the hell she wanted.
“You…you are such a hypocrite!” I yell at my father as I get up out of bed. Grabbing an oversized bag from my closet, I start yanking clothes off the hangers and throwing them into it.
“How am I a hypocrite?” my dad asks while my grandma says, “Lyla, stop. Put the clothes back in the closet, and go to bed.”
I don’t stop.
“It’s okay for Laurel to marry him and cheat on him, screwing tons of men while he’s serving our country, but I can’t sleep with him? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“That’s your problem. You can’t see it, but it makes perfect sense to me!”
“Lyla, Isaac…” my grandmother tries to intervene yet again, but we shout right over her.
“Why not? Because he’s the wrong kind of outlaw biker? You didn’t have any problem shoving Thane down my throat!”
“The Savage Kings are a bunch of assholes who think they rule the world!”
“That’s not a reason for why I can’t see Barrett again. So, why can’t I, huh?”
It’s not like I have any plans to see him again. But this argument, it’s about the principle of it, not the man in question.
“He’s wrong for you. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”
“Sorry, but that’s not a good enough reason,” I reply. My bag finally full, I heft it on my shoulder and grab my broken phone, laptop, and purse to toss it inside. “It’s way past time for me to move out. I’ll be back for the rest of my things in a few days.”
“Please don’t do this, Ly,” my grandmother begs me. I nearly break down and cry then and there hearing the anguish in her voice, seeing the moisture in her eyes. But I’m not the one in the wrong here.
“I’m not doing anything. He is. This is what he’s made me do by trying to control me,” I say, pointing my finger at my father. “I’m sick and tired of it. I was never going to stay some innocent little girl to make you happy.”
“You’re not going to whore yourself out in my house either!”
“Isaac!”
My father grimaces at my grandmother’s admonishment. “I’m sorry, Lyla. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just…I’m worried about you getting hurt.”
Ignoring him, I say, “Goodbye, Grandma. I’ll call you later,” then give her a kiss on the cheek before I walk out the door.
Only when I’m outside do I belatedly remember that I don’t have a car. Thane’s still driving it around, and my broken phone doesn’t work.
But I’ll be damned if I go back inside my father’s house tonight.
Barrett
Thankfully, for whatever reason, Jordan was in the area. He came and picked me up so that I didn’t have to pay for an Uber. The kid is all right. And having a prospect around sure does come in handy. Well, one who takes orders. Greer is a prospect too, Remy’s, actually. But he’s busy running a bar. Even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t do any shit you tell him to.
Will the guys I met in the army want to take orders, be a prospect? Hopefully, I’ll find out this week.
“Thanks again for the ride,” I tell the kid.