“To get Mitch back. It’s not too late,” Ellie repeats.
“They still haven’t caught the stalker.” I point my glass at the bodyguards surrounding our party. They’re wearing casual clothing but stick out like a bunch of gorillas in a petting zoo.
“Hmmm,” she hums.
“Don’t do that, El. I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap, slugging back the rest of my cocktail.
The pain is too raw to discuss. I’ve never been in love before. Had I known it would hurt this much, would I still have made the sacrifice?
Yes, I think sadly. I would.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I jerk my head up at the sound of Hawke’s angry snarl.
“I need to see my son.”
No fucking way.
I leap to my feet. “Dad?”
Ellie grabs my hand. “Gavin, this isn’t the time or place. You’re still too broken up and emotional to deal with him.”
Two bodyguards have stopped my dad from entering our section of the beach. Dax and Hawke are hurrying over to help, and probably give a piece of their mind. Adam jogs over and deposits Sadie on Ellie’s lap.
“Do you want him to leave?” Adam asks, the enraged expression on his normally smiling face is shocking.
Stunned, it takes me a minute to respond. My dad looks older. Much older, his blonde hair thinned some, his frame less bulky and more slender, but I guess that’s what ten years will do to a person.
Bitter and angry over breaking up with Mitch and my life in general, I’m volatile. I’ve been dying for a good fight. Maybe this is exactly what I need.
“No. I’ll handle it.” I swallow down my nerves and let the resentment take over. “Tell them to escort Colonel Walker to the house,” I hiss. “I’ll wait inside.”
I head up to the house, taking the back steps two at a time. My blood is pounding through my veins, a flood of adrenaline getting my body primed for whatever might come during a confrontation with my father.
Pacing the kitchen, I shove my hair back with a sweaty palm.
I will not let that bastard get to me.
The back door opens and one of the massive guards enters, my dad following behind.
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“Mr. Walker,” he nods. “I’ll be in the next room.”
“You can wait on the deck,” I insist. The big man is about to argue. I hold out a hand. “I’ll be fine.”
He scowls, but steps outside, remaining a few feet from the door.
“What are you doing here?” I maintain a calm façade, not wanting to let my dad know he still gets to me after all these years.
I take a good look at the man who raised me and am taken aback. Where I once felt small and meek compared to him, I now stand an inch or two taller. Flashing blue eyes that used to intimidate me are crinkled with crow’s feet. His powerful frame, once strong enough to frighten me into submission seems insubstantial and ordinary.
The power has flipped, from father to son. Something I don’t think my dad thought about before coming here to spew whatever hate he has to say.
Fisting my hands, I stand up tall, letting my body take up space in the kitchen. I keep my chin up high, showing Dennis Walker that I won’t cow to his demands.
Hesitation flickers behind those stubborn blue eyes, but he’s steadfast in his decision, so he plows forward.
“What’s the meaning of all this in the news?” he spits, his shoulders heaving with anger at whatever crime it is that I’ve perpetrated to disappoint him this time.