I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard such exuberance in my parents’ house before as I did then, walking through the door. I wasn’t sure it had ever been allowed—or if it even was now.
South Carolina wasn’t too far from Massachusetts, but after two layovers, my travel time had stretched overnight and into the next morning. I’d barely slept, and I was exhausted. But seeing the smiles on my sisters’ faces was enough to give me the extra boost to smile back.
“Hey,” I said, closing the door behind me as the cab drove away.
They clambered to their feet and ran to throw their arms around me. I dropped my bags to the floor and held them against me, breathing them in and reminding myself that this—and this alone—was why I’d come back and not found somewhere else to go.
“Oh my God, you have muscles!” Lucy screeched, her voice giddy as she squeezed a hand around my biceps.
I chuckled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “Yeah, well, I—"
“That’s enough of this noise,” Dad said, making his presence known as he wandered from the hallway and toward the stairwell.
He barely glanced in my direction as he muttered, “You’re back already.”
Grace and Lucy wilted, their excitement fading with cleared throats and steps backward. I glowered at my father, instantly pissed that the man couldn’t allow them two minutes of happiness before squashing it beneath his shoe.
“Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” I grumbled back.
“You never asked if you could come back here.”
“I wasn’t aware I had to.”
My father met my eyes then. “Do you own this house?”
I lowered my brows in response.
“Of course you had to ask, Maxwell,” he replied, his tone chilled.
“Daddy,” Grace protested weakly, her eyes on the floor.
My nostrils flared as I pulled in a deep breath in an attempt to calm the urgency to thrust my fist through my father’s smug face. I had undergone combat training. I knew how to throw a punch and how to load and shoot military-grade weaponry, yet I was still unable to defend myself in the face of this cruel tyrant of a man.
I set my pride on the back burner as I mustered the strength to ask, “Can I stay here?”
Dad raised his brows and cast his gaze to the side, as if considering the question, allowing the seconds to stretch between us before replying, “I don’t think so.”
I stood taller, tipping my chin up. I was taller than him like this, in my boots, looking down my nose at the indifferent expression on his face.
“But, Daddy!” Lucy dared to cry out angrily. “Max is only home for three days! He can—"
“Enough!” Dad shouted, his voice snapping against my eardrums like the crack of a whip. “Maxwell is an adult and can find his own accommodations while he’s in town. He doesn’t need either of you to fight his battles for him. Isn’t that right, boy?” He addressed me with a cold glare and a taunting smirk.
“Right,” I replied, unwavering in my stare.
His eyes darkened. “Right … what?”
I canted my head, feigning a cluelessness I knew would get under his skin. “I don’t follow.”
He sniffed. “So, a few months is all it takes for you to lose all respect for your father? What happened tosir?”
“Oh.” I huffed a chuckle as I broke my stare to reach down and grab my bags. “I recently learned that I should only answer that way to my superiors—men whodeservemy respect.” I regarded him with an air of indifference that felt so, so fuckinggood. “I don’t believe you ever deserved mine.”
Dad stepped forward, holding my angry glare. “Lucy, Grace, get the hell upstairs. Let me have a word with Maxwell.”
“But, Daddy—"
“Listen to your father!” he roared over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off me.
