She gave me a long, appraising look. I couldn’t read it, and felt suddenly lost. My mother died a long time ago and I didn’t have any other females in my life, so I couldn’t quite understand what Bea’s look meant, but I craved her support regardless for some reason I didn’t want to comprehend.
“I think you should,” she said softly. “And it’s not normally my way to say so straight out like that, but I think that if you want a chance at escaping your life, this is going to be it. You’ll sacrifice for a few years, and maybe you’ll find you enjoy being with Dean in the end, but if you choose to leave then he will pay and you’ll never have to see your father or your uncle or anyone else in the Valentino family ever again. I would make that gamble, if I were in your position.”
I nodded once and took a deep breath before slowly letting it out. “Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome.” She looked at me kindly. “Now, your father’s inside.”
I blinked rapidly and took a step back. “Sorry, what?”
“I thought we could keep him waiting.” She gave me a cheeky grin and shrugged a bit. “I suppose it was mean, but he deserves it.”
A laugh bubbled up. I liked her, liked her a lot. “I guess I should go see him then.”
“He’s in the living room, right in through those doors.” She pointed toward a sliding glass door. “Go on, dear, talk to him.”
I waved goodbye and walked to the door. When I looked back, she was already strolling back down the path, whistling to herself as she went.
That woman had her fingers in all of this. I could tell it already. She made me too at ease, made me too comfortable and happy, and that was almost as dangerous as Dean’s charming smile and muscular physique. I’d have to be careful of her, but I didn’t want to be. I craved attention from a mother figure, and some stupid part of me thought maybe, just maybe, Bea could be it.
I went inside. Dad sat on a large leather couch and looked like a little boy, swallowed by the massive, empty room. He struggled to his feet as I approached and I thought he might hug me, but he didn’t come closer as I stopped a few feet away.
“Hey, Dad,” I said.
“How are you?” he asked. “I keep meaning to visit, but your uncle told me not to.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Everyone’s nice here.”
“I bet.” He looked around, eyebrows raised. “Lap of luxury, eh? Pretty nice, yeah?”
“What do you want?” I asked, the old anger simmering again.
“Ah, honesty, you know, just to see how you were doing.” He grinned at me, sheepish. His hair was thinning and the bags under his eyes were thick enough to blot out the sun. His clothes were rumpled, and he smelled like he came straight from the club.
“I find that hard to believe.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I’m your father,” he said softly, his smile fading. “I can’t come see how my daughter’s doing?”
“You’re here to spy on me for Uncle Roy,” I said. “So forgive me if I’m skeptical.”
His face darkened. “There’s no reason to talk to me like that.”
Now there was the father I knew. That was the man I grew up with: mercurial, quick to rage, and not shy about taking it out on me with his bare hands. The asshole wasn’t always abusive, mostly when he drank, and as I got older, I got better about defending myself, but still.
I didn’t have to put up with it anymore.
“Why don’t you just go home?” I asked. “You can tell Uncle Roy that everything’s fine.”
“I’m making sure you’re going to follow through with this deal,” he said sharply. “I need to know you’re going to do what’s best for the family.”
“For your family,” I hissed, rage spilling over. “It’s not my family. Since when has this family ever done shit for me?”
“It put a roof over your head, you ungrateful brat,” he said. “All those hours I spent working, what the fuck do you think it was all for, huh?”
“Wasn’t for me,” I said. “I had to beg for you to buy me new school clothes, and remember when I asked you for money to apply to colleges? You remember what you said?”
“Don’t be a bitch right now, Mags,” he said softly, almost a growl.
I grinned at him, so sick of his shit. “You said, ‘don’t bother, Mags, you’re way too stupid. You can work at the club.’ You wanted your own daughter to work at a strip club instead of going to college.”
“You tended bar,” he said. “I never made you dance.”
“Oh, that’s so much better. You never gave a shit about me, Dad. It was always about the family. Well, you can go back home and kiss Uncle Roy’s ass.”