“Don’t you dare talk about my family that way,” Rachel says, getting in her mom’s face. “He’s not an old man. He’s a wonderful man, and I love him. And he loves me. For real. Not like you. I don’t want anything to do with you and your trashy boyfriend. I want you to go. Just go.”
Suddenly, Danny grips Rachel’s arm above the elbow and pushes his face into hers. “Don’t you ever talk to your mom that way again, you little ungrateful bitch.”
Keegan jumps over the bar, and Cameron reaches over to grab Danny by the collar, but the man is suddenly walking backwards, though not under his own power.
Hunter’s dragging him.
We all follow to see what will happen, and I pray that I don’t have to call the police—or an ambulance.
“If you ever touch my daughter again, I’ll end you,” Hunter says, his voice steely and calm.
Danny holds his hands out at his sides. “Go ahead and punch me, you chickenshit.”
“You’re not worth it. If either of you comes back inside, we’ll call the police. And I’ll be getting a restraining order,” Hunter informs Carla. “Don’t ever come back on this island.”
“I’ll sue you!” Carla rails. “I’ll take you for everything you’ve got!”
We all ignore her and walk back into the pub where Rachel’s wiping away tears and talking to my father.
She didn’t follow us outside.
“Did you kill him?” Rachel asks her dad. “Oh, God, I don’t want you to go to jail.”
“No.” Hunter kisses her head. “They’re leaving. I’ll get some legal paperwork going as soon as I leave here.”
“Come on now, lass,” Dad says to Rachel. “Let’s go see what kind of cake Fiona made today. That always makes everything a wee bit better.”
The two of them, with their heads together, walk back to the kitchen.
“It’s really sweet,” Maggie says, watching them, “how cute they are together. Two peas in a pod. And she just stood right up for him when that asshole insulted Da.”
“They love each other,” I say simply.
“I don’t remember the last time we had a quiet night in,” I say a week later. All three of us are home, sitting in the game room upstairs.
I’m reading a book, and Hunter challenged Rachel to a game of ping-pong.
It’s all so…normal.
“Can I go to the movies with Charity tomorrow night?” Rachel asks as she volleys the little white ball back to her dad.
“Who’s Charity?”
“The girl I met at the pub. She came in yesterday with her parents for dinner. She’s in my grade, and she seems cool. I need to make new friends.”
Hunter glances at me. “Do you know Charity?”
“I’ve seen her around town quite a bit. I know she volunteers at the animal shelter in the summer. Maggie was considering a kitten, and we saw her there.”
“Okay, I suppose you can go.” Rachel wins the set and makes her father scowl. Before they can start another match, Hunter’s phone rings. “It’s my agent.”
He sets the paddle down and answers.
“Hello.” Hunter’s eyebrows lower in a scowl. “You’re kidding. Yeah, yeah, I’m looking.”
He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, flipping the channel to ESPN.
There’s Danny, sitting at a table, answering questions.
“Look, the jerk gave me a black eye,” Danny says, pointing to his face.
“That’s a lie,” Hunter growls. “I didn’t fucking hit him, but I sure as hell should have.”
“And,” Danny continues, “I’d like to settle this like gentlemen. In the ring. I want Meyers to come out of retirement for one last fight.”
“Do you think he’ll accept?” a reporter calls out.
“I don’t know,” Danny says. “He’s been a bit of a pansy these last few years. We’ll see if he’s up for the challenge.”
“Fuck him!” Hunter exclaims. “I’m in. Arrange it.”
Hunter cuts off the call and tosses his phone on the couch.
“You don’t have to take his bait,” I point out calmly.
“He just challenged me on national television. What would you have me do?”
“I’m just saying, if you don’t want to fight him, you don’t have to.”
“Oh, trust me, I want to beat that asshole’s face in. I’ll take great pleasure in it.”
I stand and pace the room. “Listen, I know that you made fighting a living. The sport of fighting. This is something else entirely. This isn’t a fight for sport, it’s a vendetta.”
“I never should have retired,” Hunter mutters and rubs his hand down his face. “I wasn’t ready.”
“You retired for Rachel,” I remind him and look at the girl who’s watching us with avid curiosity.
“Partly,” he agrees. “But mostly it was because the doctors told me if I got one more concussion, I might not recover from another brain injury.”
I stare at him, stunned. “You never told me that.”
“It’s not a secret. I just didn’t mention it.”
“So you’re saying if you get another brain injury, you could die from it?”