“Will be.”
Dad starts laughing, and the entire deck of the patio shakes under the intensity. But it’s not nice, it’s mocking and teasing. I hate it when he laughs like this, it grates against my skin and makes me instantly bitchy.
King’s taunting is like dumping gasoline on a bonfire, completely unnecessary. And it’s the final straw for me. I push off to storm inside. Slamming the door behind me, sick of his shit.
Of course, the door opens behind me a spit second later, King’s thundering steps chasing me through Jenn’s place.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Raney. Your ass is staying next to me, so every fucking person gathered will hear what I’m saying whether they’re wearing a cut or a damn Chanel suit. I literally don’t give a fuck who they are, but they will listen to me. You wanted this so get your ass out there and you listen too.”
The thing with both dad and me is we can share the same fiery temper.
I swing around and go at him. “Why? Why do you always make fun of them?”
He’s right up in my face, returning the favour. “You think that was me making fun of them? You know I was going fucking soft. Colt standing there like a cocky sonofabitch looking me in the eye saying bullshit about I’ll be listening to him; he’s not even fucking eighteen! He needs to learn some fucking respect. He’s lucky I didn’t knock his head clean off his fucking shoulders, Raney! And Jesus, his brother is standing there looking like he’s won the fucking prize already. Which, for the record, he hasn’t! I rule here, and he will give me the respect I’m due.”
“In case you didn’t notice, we’re not in Kansas anymore!” I spit back at him sarcastically. Trying desperately to rein in my emotions at the same time. The both of us screaming our dirty laundry is food for the nosey neighbours and guests.
And all it does is confirm to everyone here, how wrong it is for me, and Dad, to be in their world. Because while King rules back home, the snobs that live here can make my life miserable with a raise of their sculptured eyebrows.
I try. I swear I try. But it doesn’t work. I’ve still got a lot to say, but I do stop screaming.
“Every year you make them come here so you and all your guys can stand around teasing and mocking them, trying to get them to snap.” I swing back around and start moving away again. The walls around me feel like they’re closing in, the air is suffocating. But it’s him mainly. His alpha is rising because apparently every fucking thing in his eyes is a challenge today.
I put my hand on the door to my bedroom, or suite, because the way mom and dad live is as different as night and day. And I get it nearly open before he buckles and barks at me. “You are not permitted to step one foot in that room until they know the rules. I fucking mean it.”
He alphas me. His words and command make me stumble and fall to my knees. I barely have the wits to fight through his compulsion and not whine. But the second he sees what he did, he gets control of himself and his alpha command falls away.
“Nice one, Dad,” I hiss back, climbing to my feet and sharing with him the universal gesture for fuck you over my shoulder before slamming the doors to my room shut.
The other thing about King is his sense of privacy is non-fucking-existent. Except when he says he needs privacy, and then he’s like fortified steel. He has my door open but doesn’t cross the threshold. Colour me surprised.
“Raney… baby, I didn’t mean…”
I know he didn’t mean to alpha me into submission, but it doesn’t detract from the fact he did.
I keep my back to him. Talking quietly because I know he’ll hear. “Never heard you not say a word you haven’t meant. I guess I learned that from you because I mean what I say too. Don’t you dare step a foot inside until you come to me with an apology. You want to keep treating me like I’m three years old, Dad, that’s on you. Not me.”
“You’re fucking twenty, Raney!” he roars in response, losing a handle on his control again.
I nod, refusing to turn around. My eyes are blinking away the tears of frustration. Honestly, we’ve been through this so many times recently it’s not funny. “Yeah, I am and don’t you forget it. In some places in the world that makes me an adult. How about you think about that? I’ll be back before the cake comes out. Don’t send anyone to come get me or I won’t be attending at all. I’ll get there without an escort.” I use my foot to kick the door to my room closed.
Of course, he uses my biggest weakness against me. “Raney, don’t make me ban them from seeing you.”
I shake my head but refuse to open the door for him. “Yeah, pretty sure that’s what you said last year, King. Think of something else, hey.”
Moving through the suite, the recent remodelling mom did has changed the whole layout and now more than ever it doesn’t feel like my space, despite all my stuff being in here. I grab a bottle of water and sit on a gigantic armchair facing the only window in the room. The view is of the crashing waves down below. I’m sure it is cathartic to some, but I’m more of a city person. I get lost in the view though. The constant roll of the ocean is a good reminder that no matter what happens, some things stay the same. Like my dad going ballistic with his protective urges.
I finish my bottle of water, and using one of the blankets, I snuggle down to watch the day move on without me. Outside I can hear my party happening still, but that’s cool. It’s not really for me, it’s for Mom and her friends. And it’s for King of course.
A sharp knock on the door, and the door opens before I manage to twist around.
“You didn’t want to wait to see if you were invited in, King?” I smirk, before dropping my head back to stare at the waves again
“Nah, Raney, you know I’m not one to wait for permission,” Dad says as he kicks over an ottoman. “What the fuck is this thing, anyway? Your mom can’t afford chairs now?” And then he sits smack bang in the middle of my view. Smart man, really, because he knows I’m pretty good at ignoring shit, him included.
He drops one of his meaty hands around my feet and tugs on it repeatedly until I quit ignoring him. My hand glides out, and he nabs that too.
“Come on, Raney. You owe your dad a drink, and I owe you an apology.”
