Ella’s panicked gaze darts over to Dad, but the look in his eyes says it all—defeat.
She turns her imploring gaze to Steve. “I want to stay here.”
He’s unmoved by her plea. “Sorry, but that’s not an option. So, I repeat. Pack. Your. Bags.” When she doesn’t budge from my side, he claps his hands together as if she’s a trained seal. “Now.”
Ella fists her hands at her side, waiting for my dad to jump in. When he remains silent, she stomps out angrily.
I’m about to go after her when Steve stops me. “Reed. A minute of your time,” he says tersely.
It’s not a question. It’s a command.
The two men exchange glances. Dad’s face tightens and then he backs out of the room, leaving me alone with Steve.
“What?” I say bitterly. “You gonna tell me again what a bad influence I am?”
He walks over to the bed and stares at the rumpled covers before shifting his gaze to me. I fight the urge to fidget. Nothing Ella and I were doing in here was wrong.
“I was once your age.”
“Uh-huh.” Damn. I think I know where this is going.
“I know how I treated girls, and in retrospect, I regret that a bit.” Steve runs his hand along the edge of the bed frame. “Ella’s right—I haven’t been involved in much of her life. But I’m here now. She’s had a troubled childhood, and those types of girls often look for affection in the wrong places.”
“And I’m one of those wrong places?” I tuck my hands into my pockets and lean against the dresser. It’s sort of ironic that one of the most straight-laced girls I know with the shittiest upbringing has an absentee father giving me a lecture on doing right by his daughter. During the entire nine months or so that I dated Abby, her dad’s entire conversations with me were about the Astor Park football team.
“Reed.” Steve softens his tone. “I love you like you’re my own son, but you have to admit that you’re in a challenging situation here. Ella’s obviously very attached to this family, but I hope you won’t take advantage of her loneliness.”
“I’m not taking advantage of Ella in any way, sir.”
“But you are sleeping with her,” Steve accuses.
If he expected me to be embarrassed or ashamed, he’s pegged me all wrong. Loving Ella is one of the best things I’ve done in my short life. “I’m making her happy,” I answer simply. I have no intention of talking about our sex life. Ella would be mortified.
Steve’s lips press together in a tight line. He’s not pleased with that response. “You’re a physical guy, Reed. You like to fight because you enjoy the impact of your fist against someone else’s flesh. You enjoy the clash of strength against strength. By the same token, you probably can’t go without sleeping around. I’m not judging you, because, hell, I’m the same way. I’m not a big believer in fidelity. If a girl’s available, who am I to say no, am I right?” He grins, inviting me to be part of that trashy lifestyle.
“I’ve said no plenty of times,” I tell him.
Steve snorts in disbelief. “All right, let’s just go with that. When it comes to Ella, though, if you really love her, then you’re not trying to paw her clothes off every second. I see how you look at her, kid, and it’s with a belly full of lust and not much more.” He closes the distance between us and places a heavy hand on my shoulder. “It’s not wrong. I’m not expecting you to change. I’m just saying that Ella’s not the girl to screw around with. Treat her like you’d want your own sister to be treated.”
“She’s not my sister,” I bite out. “And I do treat her with respect.”
“You have a murder charge hanging over your head. You might go to prison for a very long time. How’s Ella going to cope when you’re there? Do you expect her to wait around for you?”
I speak through clenched teeth. “I didn’t do it.”
Steve doesn’t answer.
Does this man, who’s been part of my life for as long as I have memories, actually believe I’m capable of killing someone?
Embittered, I study Steve’s expression. “Do you really believe I did?”
After a beat, he squeezes my shoulder—hard. “No, of course not. But I’m thinking about Ella. I’m trying to put her first.” Those vivid blue eyes, the ones that Ella has, stare at me in challenge. “Can you honestly say you’re doing the same?”
16
Ella
“You know, the reason why there’s no floor thirteen is because a large number of patrons are secretly superstitious. Hallow Oaks is rumored to be built over an old Confederate cemetery. There might be ghosts here.”
Like the ghost of your dead body, I think sourly.
Steve waves the keycard in front of a sensor and punches the “P” button. He’s all smiles now, as if he didn’t just drag me out of my home and to this stupid hotel.