“I’m twenty-eight years old, Dad. I can sleep with whomever I want.”
“Not in my clubhouse. Not with a brother whose job it was to keep you safe. He was never supposed to . . . touch you.”
“Dad,” I exhale deeply, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Bones is an adult, and I’m an adult, and what happened between us was consensual and private.”
“Private?” He lets out a harsh laugh. “The whole damn club heard you two. Do you have any idea what that did? What position that put me in?”
“So this is about your pride.”
“This is about respect. For you, for the club, for the order we maintain.” He stands abruptly. “He crossed a line, Emma. Multiple lines. I gave him direct orders that he ignored. So yeah, I stripped his officer patch. And yeah, I told him to stay away from you. Because someone needed to enforce boundaries since neither of you seemed capable of it.”
I stand too, anger flaring hot in my chest. “You ordered him away from me?”
“For his own good. And yours.”
“That’s not your decision to make!”
“Like hell it isn’t. You’re my daughter?—”
“I’m an adult! You don’t get to dictate my relationships!”
“I’m not dictating your relationships. I’m maintaining order inmyclub.” His voice is firm, final. “Bones fucked up. He paid the price. That’s how it works.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” I grab my jacket from the bench. “You punished him because you were embarrassed. Because you couldn’t control what happened. Because your precious rules and your pride matter more than?—”
“Than what? Than my daughter’s safety? Than the trust of my brothers?”
“Than people being happy!” The words burst out before I can stop them. “You’d rather everyone follow your rules and be miserable than break protocol and actually live their lives!”
Dad’s face goes stony. “Is that what you think of me?”
“I think—” I stop, trying to get control of my voice. “I think you care more about being president than being my father.”
“That’s not fair?—”
“You want to talk about fair?” My voice rises. “You want to talk about who really put me in danger? I got kidnapped because I’m YOUR daughter, Dad. Because of YOUR club. Because of YOUR enemies. Bones didn’t put me in danger—YOU did. He just cleaned up your mess.”
Dad flinches at my words, the color draining from his face.
“Emma—”
“No. You don’t get to punish him for doing something to keep me safe when the only reason I needed saving in the first place was because of your life choices. Because you’re the President ofStoneheart MC, and that makes me a target. So don’t stand there acting like you’re protecting me when YOU’RE the one who?—”
“You think I don’t know that?” Dad’s voice cracks, and I’ve never heard him sound like this. Raw. Broken. “You think I haven’t thought about that every damn day for six months? That my daughter almost died because of me? That I had to listen to you screaming for help over a phone and couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it?”
I freeze. I’ve never seen my father cry, but his eyes are wet now.
“But at least I never lied to you about what I am,” he continues, voice rough. “At least I never put a tracker in your body. At least I gave you the choice to walk away from this life—which you did. You’ve been safe in New York, away from all of this. And one of the rare times you come back, that one time you entered my world again, they fucking took you.”
His voice breaks completely and he scrubs a hand over his face and breathes in a stuttered breath.
“So yeah, I punished Bones. Because on top of everything else, when there’s danger to the club, the club locks down until the danger is gone and everyone’s safe. He broke lockdown. He took you back out there where I couldn’t protect you and he refused to bring you back. He’s lucky he still has his patch at all,” Dad says, his voice steadying. “But that’s where my mercy ends.”
I stare at him, anger warring with understanding. “He didn’t break lockdown, Dad. I did. He’s the one who found me. Again.”
His eyes fly to mine, and instead of acknowledging that he was wrong, he just tenses his jaw. Typical. I look away and shake my head.
“I’m not a child anymore,” I say, voice shaking. “You don’t get to decide what’s safe for me. You don’t get to push people away from me because you’re scared. I’m the one who got kidnapped. I’m the one who’s been living with the nightmares. And I’m the one who gets to decide what and who I need.”
