London stiffens and takes a step away from them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You still don’t. No one made me do this. I entered into this willingly, and I gave him my word, but that’s not what this is about.”
“Come home, London,” Berrett says softly. “I know there’s a lot we need to work on, but we can do that now. We’re ready to forgive you.”
“Ready to forgive me?” London takes a few more steps away from them until she’s standing next to me. She stares at them and blinks rapidly. “What ifI’mnot ready to forgiveyou? Yousaid you’d disown me if I didn’t come home. I think your exact words were that if I didn’t come back right then, I shouldn’t come home at all.”
Berrett releases a harsh breath. “I was angry. We all said things we didn’t mean.”
London’s voice drops again, and there’s a hint of sadness. “You can’t take any of it back. Neither of you can.”
Berrett reaches for her, and I step in front of him. “You heard what she said. I’d consider my next move carefully.”
“You’re choosing him over us? After everything he’s done to rip our family apart?”
In one quick move, Berrett reaches into his waistband and pulls out a knife. A slight tremor races through him as he points it at me and scowls. “I won’t let you continue to poison my daughter against me. We’re going to walk out of here, whether you like it or not.”
Chapter Fifteen
London
I don’t know if I am going to be sick or pass out.
Half of me wants to tackle my father to the ground, knocking the knife out of his hand before he does something stupid, and the other half wants to drag my parents and Mason out and disappear somewhere with them.
I step in front of Mason and wait for my dad to look at me. “Dad, put that knife down before this gets out of hand.”
“You should listen to your daughter,” Mason says evenly, “before you hurt yourself.”
My father grips the knife tighter and makes a vague motion with his free hand. “I know enough. I’ve seen enough. There’s only one way to deal with people like you.”
“You’re testing my patience,” Mason replies dangerously. “If you were anyone else, you’d already be choking on your blood.”
My father launches himself at Mason. I throw my arms up on either side of me and barely keep him back. We grunt as I throw my weight forward, and we topple over and slam into the wall as I try to pry the knife from his hand.
Mason is doing his best not to intervene, but even he has his limits.
My father has already pushed him too far.
Thank God you got there when you did. Who knows what would’ve happened?
I shake away the image of Mason looming over my parents and focus. My mother is saying something in the background, but I can’t make out the words. Then, her hand is on my back, and her voice is in my ear. Still, I keep my father pressed against the wall while he bucks and curses.
“Dad, look at me,” I hiss. “You’re not helping anyone right now. You’re only making things worse.”
“I didn’t…” The color creeps up his neck and cheeks. “I’m here to make things better.”
I release him. “How is bringing out a knife better? Explain it to me.”
Slowly, he turns hate-filled eyes to Mason, who is calmly standing by the bar cart.
Mason is hanging on by a thread, and I know that he’s about to snap.
I’ve seen the lengths he is willing to go to.
You need to contain the situation now before it spirals even further.
I throw my hands in the air and step back in front of my father, blocking Mason from view. “Dad, look at me.Reallylook at me, okay? I’m fine.”
My father’s dark eyes move over me intently.
