Being abandoned the first time was bad enough, but all the times after? I didn’t understand what was happening for a long time. Once I did, I no longer cared how the men my mombrought into our lives felt about me because of my own hatred and resentment.
“You stay up here,” I tell her.
Then I make two trips down the stairs with her bags before heading back up and leading her down the stairs. The moment we step off the last step, the front door slams open and a furious looking man storms in.
“Fuck,” Avery groans under her breath.
The man marches through the entry way like he’s heading into battle, and I watch my woman change in front of my eyes. Gone is the woman who stood tall and told her mom where to shove it. Her shoulders curl in on themselves and her eyes lock on the floor like it’ll solve all her problems.
If I didn’t hate her father before this moment, I would have all the reasons in the world to feel that way toward him now.
The moment he sees Avery, he sneers at her. “What are you doing here?” He barks the question at her, and she shrinks back as if making herself smaller will give him less of a target.
But that’s not how men like him work. Seeing her scared, seeing the way she becomes what he’s been molding her into for far too long, gives him a sick sense of satisfaction. I can see it in the way his eyes glint as he watches her.
“You said I had 48 hours to get my stuff before it was thrown away. I’m here to get my things,” Avery’s voice is hollow and thready. That would be bad enough, but the way it wobbles breaks my heart.
Her father’s eyes narrow and he grunts out a sound filled with displeasure. “I’m disappointed that you chose this option. Thesmarter plan would be to get rid of the bastard you’re carrying. You can still redeem yourself by marrying Eric.”
At the mention of getting rid of our baby, Avery’s spine snaps straight and the fire ignites in her eyes again. I’m not even a little bit ashamed when my cock thickens behind the fly of my jeans.
“I’m not getting rid of my baby and I’m not marrying Eric. Ineverwanted to marry him, but you didn’t ask me what I wanted, you just called me into your office and told me I’d be engaged and when.”
Her father can’t hear the warning in her tone and doesn’t look the least bit ashamed of his actions or words. He looks over her bags with an appraising eye and I know he’s going to make this more difficult than it needs to be. At least he’s going to try.
“You’ve always been worthless, Avery,” his tone is droll as if it is an everyday thing to say to your daughter.
It isn’t.
And it takes all of my will power not to close the distance between us and beat him until his blood spills all over the marble floor. Maybe sensing my need for blood and vengeance, Avery grips my arm. Her will is the only thing holding me in place.
Just because my feet aren’t moving doesn’t mean I’m not planning. He thinks he’s untouchable because of his job and the status he’s worked to achieve and hold onto. He has no idea that I know people with skill and far more money, even if this house does try to flaunt every penny he has. I’m already making lists in my head about who I need to call. I want to know about every skeleton in this man’s closet. Then I’ll figure out if I want to feature them in a media parade designed to shame him until he can’t even look at himself in the mirror.
Without meaning to, I smile, the thought of taking him down making me a little giddy. Avery squeezes my arm, and I look down at her to find her assessing me with questions swirling in her eyes. Later, I’ll answer all of her questions. Not giving a fuck about her father standing just a few feet away from us, I press a sweet kiss to her forehead and then one to her petal soft lips.
The contact isn’t just for her; it’s for me too. I need it to calm myself down.
“This is who you’d rather be with? Not Eric who is a fine, upstanding young man with a bright future ahead of him,” he sneers the words, but I don’t look his way. I can’t. I’m too captivated by the adoration shining in Avery’s dark blue depths. “This is the father of your baby? A miscreant with tattoos? He’s probably unemployed and barely graduated high school. Your little bastard will be just as much of a drain on society as the father is.”
Slowly I turn my head and look at him, not because he insulted me, my intelligence, or my ability to take care of Avery. No, I look at him because he had the gall to speak about our baby. Again.
“Say what you want about me,” my voice is low, menacing, “but you will stop talking about Avery and our child in such a way.”
“Or what?” He challenges me while thinking he’s above it all.
I shrug one shoulder, not giving him the reaction he wants. “There are a lot of different ways this could go.” Avery’s mom joins us and steps close to her husband, thereby making a clear statement about where her loyalties lie. “Good, you should hear this too because I’m only going to say this once. You think you’re untouchable, but you’re not.”
“Are you threatening me?” He bristles and gears up to attempt to exert his dominance.
I hold a hand up, trying to keep my cool when all I want to do is rip his limbs from his body and beat him to death with them. Does blood stain marble?
“Like I said there are a few ways this could go. You’ve already fired Avery from a job where she was never given an opportunity to shine. That’s no big loss. You’ve already called off her engagement to a man who would never love her. Again, no big loss. Going forward, you can let her go and continue on in your life the way you have. You’ll be the ones losing if you go this route. You will not contact Avery, for any reason, and you will not have any contact with our child, your grandchild. Itwillbe your loss.”
Avery’s mom scowls as much as she can considering she’s clearly had too much work done. Her father scoffs like the words I’m saying are ridiculous when we both know they’re not.
“Or you can continue to berate and try to control my woman,” the warning is clear in my tone and Avery stiffens next to me. I glance her way to find her eyes big, round, and full of an emotion I’m not sure how to interpret.
I replay my words and realize I’ve called her mine. Out loud. For her parents to hear. I take a few breaths, waiting for the panic to set in, waiting for the fear to crawl up my throat and choke me.
