They walk away, and it’s my turn to be pulled into Dad’s arms as he hugs me tight, a certain grounding stability instantly surrounding me at his presence.
Dad is the unshakable wall that served as an iron-clad fence around me, always watching over me and protecting me.
The bricks weren’t built with hate, though. They were built with love, and that’s why they never felt heavy.
He slaps me on my shoulder as we lean back. “How are you, son?”
“Great as always.”
“That’s good to hear because we need to talk.”
My brow furrows at his serious tone, and when he motions to the couch, I sit down as he goes to the bar and pours himself some whiskey.
Shit. This is going to be a serious talk.
“What do you want to talk about?”
He takes a small sip from his drink and leans against the fireplace, his face unreadable. “Lavender Wright.”
His tone and stare let me know everything. “You know.”
“Of course. You’re my son. Do you think anything goes on in this family without me knowing?”
I bite my tongue to not give any smart remarks to that.
“She’s mine.”
A ghost of a smile twitches his lips before the stern expression is back. “That might be so, but she’s a Wright. She’s a family member, and I’m particularly protective of her.”
Somehow, his staking this claim over Lavender rubs me the wrong way, which is fucking insane, because I can’t be a fool who’s possessive so much that even my father’s affection for her is jarring.
Still.
“I appreciate it, Dad.”
He chuckles, taking another sip. “No, you don’t. She’s all yours, Levi, as long as she wishes it. Cross some lines and make her unhappy, I’ll be the first one to help her end it.”
I can read between the lines well.
My father loves me and will die for me, but if I ever go against his moral code? All bets would be off, and he’ll kill me himself.
Lachlan Scott doesn’t bend the rules for anyone, even his own son, and I admire him for that.
“She’s mine,” I repeat, refusing to explain this chaos in my soul that has no explanation anyway. It grows stronger with each passing day. “And she’s willing. We hashed out our differences.”
Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone so fast I don’t have time to study it. Dad is the only person in the world who can confuse me, and it makes our bond even stronger.
He finds ways to challenge my mind.
My father was always a hero to me, who saved me from the desperate abyss. His darkness was far greater than mine could ever have been, and in this allowed me to become who I am today.
Without his silent guidance, who knew what my traumas might have produced? A damaged psyche is a danger to society that might manifest in the most heinous way.
I’m lucky I found the channel for my warped vices.
Dad is a man with a capital M, and no one, in my eyes, would ever live up to the high pedestal I have him on.
“Just make sure to marry the girl before you have a child.”
