“Dad,” I said, feeling stiff as I nodded at him.
He looked the same as last time I’d seen him, about my height with his silver hair in a crew cut. He wasn’t in uniform, but he might as well have been because he stood with a rigid spine and squared shoulders under his leather NGPD coat, the one he’d had since I was a kid. It was blue and the color was fading. His badge was clipped to his belt, so he must’ve been doing something official today. I had a moment to thank my lucky stars he wasn’t armed.
He was dangerous enough without a gun.
“You got nothing to say to your old man about whatever the hell this is?” He scowled and flicked his fingers in Tyler’s direction.
Tyler stepped out to look through my dad like he didn’t exist. It was every bit as creepy as I’d accused Jules of being.
Anxiety slammed me. “I’m Christmas shopping with my boyfriend.”
Dad took a step back as if I’d managed to surprise him for once.
Tyler let out a long breath. Perhaps he’d been worried I would say something else under pressure. Well, fuck that, he wasmine. Tyler scooted under my arm when I held it up to latch on to me with both of his around my middle.
Dad stepped in closer and snorted. He slid a horrible stare over Tyler, then eyed the people closest to us, obviously calculating what he could get away with saying in public while he had that badge in plain sight. “I’ll be by to talk about this.”
“No. You won’t. There’s nothing to discuss. You don’t have permission to be on my property, which makes it trespassing.” I gave him my best fuck-you scowl. It wasn’t as good as his, but then, he had more practice.
“Did he tell you how he got that pretty face?” Dad asked.
Our gazes clashed. My jaw ached as fury scrambled through me. I grabbed his collar, and he shoved me off, taking another step back.
“As I said, you and I have things to discuss.” He shook his head.
“You aren’t welcome at our house,” I muttered quietly, but I wanted to scream it. “Just like we were never really welcome in yours.” My heart was a hummingbird zipping around behind my ribs.
“Not welcome at my own son’s house during the holidays?” he said loudly. His glower never left Tyler, and I wanted to gouge his eyes out. “You know he’s a liar, right?”
“My mom would say otherwise.” Tyler’s voice was robotic.
“You gonna dig her up to lie for you?” he asked, evil glee on his face.
“Enough. Iknowyou, Dad,” I whispered. My body trembled from the inside out with the urge to plant my fist in his gut.
Several emotions played across his face. “I’m busy, but we’ll talk when I’m not.” His grin was awful as he wandered away. I couldn’t help but notice he had a bag from a lingerie store, and my stomach lurched.
“Who’s that for?” I called, unable to help myself.
He whirled around to walk backward, lifting the bag, as if to make sure that was the point of our extended conversation. “My new girlfriend. I learned my lesson. This one’s twenty. She listens to what I tell her instead of running her mouth.” He glanced at Tyler before whirling around again. “You can do better, kid.”
I saw red, but Tyler whispered an urgent “no” when I tried to tear after him, holding me in place.
“I don’t want that fucker at my house,” I seethed.
“He won’t. He was just messing with us.” But Tyler didn’t sound convinced, and I had the urge to go home, set my house on fire, and move with Tyler to a new city. We could pick fun new names.
“Your drink, sir,” a woman called over to us from the food counter at the tea shop.
Tyler startled and picked up his large plastic cup. A weird sensation swamped me as I watched him take his first sip without a smile. Less than two minutes. That’s all Dad had needed to fuck up our night.
Tyler seemed fine and held my hand. By mutual unspoken agreement, we left because neither one of us wanted to run into that monster again. Fuck that. Worry began to bombard me on the drive home through the snowy dark because Tyler leaned his forehead against the window and said nothing.
My heart was still pounding and my hands shook on the wheel as I pulled the car into my driveway. Tyler opened his door, got out, and hurled his almost full drink on the ground, splashing it everywhere, a blemish on the freshly fallen snow. By the time I reached him, the scent of peppermint and chocolate was heavy in the air. The sight of tears in the corners of his eyes was nearly a relief, but not exactly. The robot impression had been scary in its own way.
I opened my arms, and he rushed forward, slamming against me. The Christmas lights popped on, thanks to the timer, bathing us in a warm glow.
“I promise not to let you get hurt again.” My words puffed out along with white fog to linger between us.
