“You should have known better…”
“He’s a fucking parasite…”
He doesn’t pause for breath between sentences, his voice getting louder and louder with each insult. I don’t mind that he hates me, or that he knows I can hear every word he says. I mind that he’s yelling at my girlfriend. Fake or not, no onedeserves to be treated like this. And knowing she—and the rest of the siblings—have probably faced this more than once over their lifetimes has me incensed. I can’t stay quiet.
It might earn me a black eye, but I need to say something.
My chair squeaks against the tiles as I push back from the table. Aoife’s brow quirks. “I wouldn’t. You’ll make it worse.”
“Aye. But sometimes bullies need to pick on someone their own size. If he’s going to yell at someone until he runs out of breath, he should yell at me.”
Clíodhna’s voice cuts in before I can stand. “Careful, Rob. She can handle Dad. What she can’t handle is watching you turn into him.” Her gaze is sharp, the kind of look that sees through armor. “If you go in there, make it about her, not your pride.”
Pride has nothing to do with this. Guilt swirls in my gut. I did this. Not telling her who I was at the pub, not being more aware of our surroundings instead of listening to my long-neglected dick and charging headlong into fucking her… This is all on me. I should be the one to take the fall.
If Thelma and the girls react to me calling their patriarch a bully, I don’t see it. I’m already on my feet and heading toward the living room where Micheal stands towering over Rhiannon. Gone is the strong, confident, sharp-tongued woman I’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks, and in her place is a small, frail-looking woman with rounded shoulders and a dipped head.
“Stay the fuck out of this, McAllister. It’s a family affair.” He points his index finger at me in the doorway.
“Due respect, Mike, if anyone else spoke to your daughter like that, myself included, you’d rip their head off their body. And deservedly so. She’s a grown woman, not a child. She knows the consequences of her actions, we both do.”
He opens his mouth, but I’m not finished.
“We get the picture; you vehementlydisapprove of our relationship. There’s really no need to hammer the point home. We knew before we came here, and yet we both showed up to dinner. You can say what you want, how you want, to me, but I won’t let you speak to Rhiannon like this, in my company or otherwise.”
I leave my implication hanging, that if I get wind of hearing him treat her like this behind closed doors, I’ll be every bit as unhappy. Not sure quite what I’m going to do about it yet, but I’ll figure that out if this warning doesn’t do what I want it to.
I half expect his fist to meet my jaw, but he simply blinks at me with wide eyes. “You have some fucking balls, McAllister.” He shakes his head. “And if you hurt her, I’ll break your legs.”
I snicker. “And who’s going to breakyourlegs whenyouhurt her?” In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess. He already hates me and wants to stab me with his entire knife collection from the kitchen.
Rhiannon’s head snaps up, and the fury I expect to see isn’t there. Instead, there’s gratitude, confusion, and a sprinkling of relief in those mossy green eyes.
“You really going to talk to me like that under my own roof?” He squares his shoulders, clearly not used to having anyone stand up to him.
“Would you prefer I did it outside instead?” The challenge in my voice is clear. Outside these walls, everyone and their cousin have phones. “I understand you disapprove, we both do. But if you continue to talk to her like a piece of dirt on your shoe, we won’t be back next week for Sunday dinner. Or the one after that.”
Rhiannon’s jaw drops, but she stays quiet.
“And while the situation isn’t ideal for you, it will have no negative impact on Rhiannon’s career.” I’ll make sure of it, especially seeing how badly her father will go back to treatingher once I’m out of the picture and our arrangement comes to the end of its term.
“I was going to give Thelma a hand cleaning up the kitchen. But I’m going to take your daughter home instead. You and Taranis can help clean up.” I raise my voice knowing Taranis is listening to every fucking word that comes out of my mouth, wherever he is in the house, because he made himself scarce as soon as the shouting started. Why he’s not here protecting his sister from his father is anyone’s guess.
I offer my hand to Rhiannon, my gut churning. What if she smacks it away? What if she opts to stay here and take this toxic rampage from her father instead of coming with me?
I don’t have to wonder for long before her trembling, clammy, slender hand slides into mine. I don’t pause as I lead Rhiannon out to the car. She swipes the keys from the table next to the door on her way past. “Thanks for dinner, Thelma. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“See you next week, love.” Thelma’s words and a grunt from Mike are the last things we hear as the door closes behind us.
The short drive back to Rhiannon’s house is quiet, charged with an energy I’ve never experienced from her before. I don’t know whether to apologize or pull her onto my lap and hug her until she feels better. How often does her dad go off like that? After every lost game on the pitch? Every missed kick or bad tackle?
My phone buzzes as she pulls up outside her house. It’s a message from Aoife, and the only Aoife I know is Rhiannon’s sister.
Aoife: Hi Robert, as you can see, I put my number in your phone in case of emergency. My Best Friend’s Wedding, Notting Hill, Runaway Bride, Pretty Woman, Steel Magnolias, Sleeping with the Enemy.
Robert: Specialist subject: Things with Julia Roberts in them.
Aoife: LOL! Close, things that’ll cheer my sister up after a run-in with our dad.
