Repeat Offender (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 1)

He placed it on the table in front of me and moved to my father.

Placing his on the table in front of him, I was finally free to move.

Only, my father had his hand on my leg.

“Stay,” he ordered. “Or you’ll regret it.”

I fumed.

The only way he could ‘make me regret it’ was by forcing me to attend yet another one of his functions in the next coming weeks. As long as I went to one out of every four or so, he was okay. But when he didn’t see my face at at least one, he’d start to hound me until I either attended or lost my shit.

Most of the time I just attended because then I’d immediately feel bad for not going.

In the end, he was still my father.

But honestly, this was getting to be more of a business support than anything else at this point.

People always wanted to know about my nature documentaries, and I’d get to play them up and gather support for them. Which in turn got me money.

“Give me back my pen,” I ordered. “Or I’ll bend over this table and get it myself. Possibly, it could cause a nip slip.”

My father’s eyes narrowed on me, flicking down to the dress that was barely covering my boobs.

Then he leaned forward, grabbed the pen that was closer to Lynn than him, and slapped it down on the table in front of me.

I picked it up and went back to my puzzle, finishing out the row before I replaced it into my purse with careful movements.

When I glanced back up, it was to find Lynn’s eyes, hot and angry, on me.

I looked away, unable to keep my gaze on his.

I was losing patience fast and seeing the curiosity and anger on his face only made me angrier at my father.

I didn’t know what the hell his problem was.

He was being quite obsessive today.

Normally he didn’t give a flying fuck about what I did or didn’t do, but something was different.

Something was making my usual ‘I don’t care as long as you’re here’ father impatient and short with me.

Usually, he didn’t confront me in public. He usually saved it for later to do in front of his staff or close friends, and really make the barbs hurt.

Today wasn’t one of those days, and I was guessing it was due to who was around him.

Lynn and Natalia.

Though, Natalia had steadily been typing away on her phone, so I doubted she’d even caught any of what had just transpired right in front of her.

William had heard, though, based on the grin on his face.

I ignored him and crossed my arms over my chest, which in turn caused my breasts to press up and inward, creating a crease that somewhat fascinated me because I didn’t normally have that big of boobs. They were more than a handful, but I didn’t ordinarily have cleavage.

When I finally drew my attention away from my breasts, it was to find Lynn studying me hard.

The anger was gone off his face, and in its place was… something. Something that I couldn’t quite decipher.

I watched him for a few seconds before the next course was brought out.

This time a salad.

“No thanks.” I looked at the wedge salad with the blue cheese that I hated and no dressing. “You can keep it. Bring me extra dessert.”

The waiter’s eyes twinkled as he held my plate instead of giving it to me.

My father made a grumbling sound from beside me, and the woman next to Lynn once again laughed.

That laugh turned to a smirk when her phone pinged.

She pulled it out of her purse—the lucky bitch—and showed it to Lynn.

Lynn nodded and jerked his chin toward what I suspected was the front exit.

I wasn’t sure, but that was the only thing that was behind me.

When she got up and left, I was surprised to find Lynn’s eyes return to me instead of following his date out the door.

I looked down at the empty spot in front of me while I listened to those around me eat their salads.

I picked at the linen tablecloth, wondering if my father would notice if I went to the bathroom and didn’t come back.

I mean, I was here, wasn’t I?

Deciding that I’d give it a try, and beg for forgiveness later, I stood up and turned my back on the table.

“Where are you going?” my father hissed.

“Bathroom,” I answered. “Doody calls.”

Someone—I refused to think it was Lynn—choked on the other side of the table on what they were drinking, making my heart soar.

My father grumbled something under his breath, causing me to smile really fucking wide.

“May I accompany you?” Dick asked.

I rolled my eyes. “And have you ‘accidentally’ spill something else down my back? I think not, Mr. Minute Man.”

“I do not prematurely ejaculate,” he hissed, leaning forward. “I have staying…”