I waited for Christian to snap back. Instead, he gave me butterflies when he crossed his arms on the table and leaned in real close.
“Because if I’m gonna ask to marry your daughter, I want to know the name of the man I’m asking.”
Thunderstruck, my father slowly set down his cup and gave Christian a baleful look. When he slid that gaze over to me, he realized it wasn’t a joke.
“Tell him your name, Daddy.”
Crush sat back and folded his tattooed arms. “Eugene Graves.”
The two men stared each other down, the tension in the air palpable.
Christian abruptly stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “The first time I met Raven, I thought she was beneath me.”
My dad’s chair scooted back.
Oh yeah. This is going well.
“Then I realized it was the other way around,” Christian continued. “Aye, she’s rough around the edges and has a mouth like a sailor, or in this case, her father, but we have a bond that can’t be severed. I’m not a perfect man—I’ve made mistakes. I haven’t prepared a speech because I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t know how it goes. But here’s what I do know: I love Raven something fierce. There’s no one I wouldn’t kill for her. There’snothingI wouldn’t do for her. Unless I’m burned at the stake or beheaded, I’ll be walking this earth for longer than I’d care to. And Raven’s in the same position. Someday she might decide she deserves better, and I’ll do whatever makes her happy. Make no mistake—I love her to the depths of my soul. That’ll never change. I don’t know what kind of relationship that’ll make between us, but it’s important we acknowledge it. Even if it’s just private vows between the two of us. You’re her da, and you mean the world to her.” Christian put a fist over his heart. “I, Christian Poe, ask Eugene Graves if he’ll grant permission to marry his daughter.”
I could have swooned.
Christian had delivered the most impassioned speech, wearing his heart on his sleeve for the first time in front of others. My father didn’t see it the same way. He stood up, got in Christian’s face, and unleashed years of pent-up speeches that he’d never gotten to deliver to any of my past boyfriends. The language he used was beyond the pale. Crush was testing him, and I wondered if Christian recognized that. He was seeing if Christian had a breaking point where he might either walk out or attack him. I wondered myself with some of the accusations my father was throwing around about him being a cocky fanghole that treated women just as shitty as the bike he drove.
Christian lowered his head, and Harley pranced in, barking as loudly as my father.
“Crush, sit down before the dog attacks someone,” I said, worried about his blood pressure when I saw the vein pulsing in his forehead. “We’re not getting married. Not yet.”
Crush snapped his attention to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I gave him a condition. He’s not asking you to be formal. I told him I won’t marry him unless you give your approval.”
Crush rolled his shoulders back and gave Christian a thorough appraisal. A smile touched his lips. With a clap of his hands, he ordered the dog out of the room before easing back down in his chair. After putting his feet up in the adjacent chair, he gestured for Christian to sit. I could tell by the smug look on his face that he wished he had a cigar to smoke. “Well, that changes everything.”
Christian returned to his chair, glaring at my dad’s big feet, which were too close to him. He remained uncharacteristically quiet.
“You mentioned something about making mistakes,” Crush began, lacing his fingers across his stomach. “Let’s talk about that.”
“Actually, that’s why we’re here.” I sipped my cocoa, waiting for the tension to come down to an acceptable level.
Crush scratched the side of his nose before putting his feet down so he could face me. He reached across the table and gripped my arm. “Out with it. If anyone hurt my baby girl, I’ll kill him. I don’t care how much you love him.”
I sat back and put my hands in my lap. I could already feel myself getting out of breath. I’d told him about Fletcher but had never elaborated on every detail of the abuse. I couldn’t. I still couldn’t. “It’s about Fletcher.”
Crush’s hand balled up into a fist. “Tell me you found the bastard.”
“He escaped over a year ago. Or so I thought. Today I found out Christian had him the whole time.”
Crush slammed his fist on the table and stood. “Where is he? I wanna see him!”
“He’s gone,” I said, staring at the marshmallows. “He got away.”
Crush turned a sharp eye to Christian. “You had him this whole time, and you let that motherfucker slip through your fingers? I’ll kill you!”
Before I knew what was happening, Crush rounded the table and grabbed Christian by the collar. He hoisted him right out of the seat and pinned him against the wall, snarling colorful profanities I’d never heard.
I shot up and pulled my father’s arm, trying to pry him off. “It’s not his fault!” When he didn’t budge, I wedged myself between them with Christian behind me. “Please stop this. I can’t… I can’t take this.”
Crush pointed a finger in Christian’s face. “You’re walking on thin ice. You got that?” He turned away and stormed into the kitchen. “I would havekilledthat sonofabitch.”
