Dad pins her body against the counter as his gaze locks on me. His jaw tightens as he glares. “Nice of you to drop by unannounced.”
I shrug since there’s nothing I can say or do that won’t ignite his temper. I release a pent-up breath when he backs away from her.
Dad shrugs out of his jacket and carefully lays it over a high-backed chair.
“You’ll need to drop this suit off at the dry cleaners. I need it back by Monday.”
Mom nods.
“Alice!” he snaps. “Did you hear me?”
Eyes wide, her head jerks up. “Sorry, I’ll take it over first thing in the morning.”
His lips thin as he presses them together. It doesn’t take much to set him off. He’s like a powder keg waiting for an opportunity to explode. I learned early on to gauge his moods and act accordingly. I spent my entire childhood tiptoeing around him.
“Do you want me to drop it off when I leave, Mom?” I offer. “I’m going right past the cleaners.”
It’s a little out of the way, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Before she has a chance to respond, Dad bites out, “She’ll take care of it in the morning.” He glances at the chunky silver Rolex wrapped around his wrist. “Maybe after dinner, if it ever gets made.”
I clench my jaw and silently count to ten. It takes everything I have inside not to unleash my fury at his abusive treatment. If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to lose it. And I don’t want to do that. My purpose in stopping by was to check on Mom, and that’s exactly what I did.
“All right,” I say tightly, “I’ve got to take off.” Before I can think better of it, I add, “Let me know if next week works.”
As soon as the last sentence escapes my mouth, I want to suck it back in again. I almost cringe for being so careless. There’s no use hoping that he didn’t catch the words.
His body stills as his muddy brown eyes sharpen, bouncing between us with interest. “What’s going on next week?”
When no one responds, he growls, “Alice?”
Mom flinches. “Oh, um, Carter suggested that we meet for lunch.”
“No.”
The word drops from his lips like a two-ton brick.
My eyes narrow. “Why?” Even though it’s pointless to argue, I can’t help myself because the fact that he has to control her every move pisses me off. “Why can’t we meet for lunch?”
For the first time since walking into the kitchen, a thin smile spreads across my father’s face.
He enjoys denying me something I want. He doesn’t have as many opportunities to fuck with me now that I have a full scholarship to play ball at BU. He can’t lord money over me the way he used to. And he can’t make me jump through an endless series of hoops only to deny me at the end.
He crosses his thickly corded arms across his chest as his smile broadens.
God, but I fucking hate him. He’s a useless son of a bitch.
“Because I said so,” he replies, enunciating each word. “That’s why.”
Fury infuses every fiber of my being. “She’s a grown woman,” I remind him tightly. “If she wants to meet me for lunch, she can.”
He arches a brow. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I clench and unclench my hands at my side.
His gaze bores into mine as he says, “Alice, under no circumstancesare you to meet Carter for lunch next week. Are you going to disobey me?”
With slumped shoulders, my mother stares at the seasoned steaks, not daring to lift her eyes. “No.”
