“What’s up?”
“You’re mad about the motorcycle.”
“No, just confused.”
He sighs. “It’s not complicated, honey. Just a gift to my daughter’s boyfriend. If he doesn’t take it I’m going to sell it because I don’t need another bike.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Why do you have to make something out of everything?”
“I’m not making anything out of anything,” I say quietly. “Thank you for the Harley. Landon seems really excited.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Allora. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing. Okay? This is between him and me. Nothing to do with you.” That’s partly true but the rest of it is too complicated to get into with my father.
“Fine. I’ll see you when you get back from New York?”
I nod. “Yup.”
“Be careful,” he says quietly. “I know they’ll protect you but you stay aware of your surroundings. Anyone who makes your radar go off. Better safe than sorry.”
I feel a twinge of guilt.
He’s been saying that to me and my mother for my entire life. He genuinely worries, and there’s a legitimate reason for him to at the moment.
“I will. Promise.”
“What are you guys up to tonight?” Metal asks, coming over to join us. “Anything fun?”
“Uh, no. I’m on lockdown, remember?”
He grimaces. “Well, when this is over, maybe the four of us can do dinner. Layla really enjoyed hanging with you.” He pauses, lowering his voice. “She doesn’t have many friends. A lot of women are…judgmental about her past profession.”
“She’s sweet,” I say warmly. “And yes, I’d like to get together again.”
“Take care. Have fun in New York.” He and Thunder leave, and Dad seems reluctant to join them.
“I’ll be fine, Dad,” I say. “Landon isn’t going to let anything happen to me, not even if we’ve hit a small bump in our relationship. We just have to talk some things out. Don’t worry.”
“You’re my only child. I always worry. Even when you weren’t talking to me.”
“Call or text any time,” I say gently.
He searches my face for a second, seems to decide I’m okay, and then hugs me tightly, gently tapping my cheek with the flat of his hand before he heads out.
“Courtney invited us to eat here with everyone,” Landon says. “You want to or would you rather head home?”
“We can stay. We don’t have anything to cook at home.”
“Okay.” He puts an arm around my shoulders and we walk back into the conference room since that’s one of the only rooms that isn’t under construction and is big enough for all of us.
To be fair, dinner is fun. Most of the crew is here along with a couple of the new guys’ wives. Everyone is smart, friendly, and easy to talk to, and for a little while I forget about the kidnappers, the sex trafficking ring, and the damn motorcycle. Of all the things I should be upset about, my father gifting Landon a motorcycle shouldn’t even be on the list.
But it is.
Landon doesn’t understand.
