She paused and was about to say something when a thunderous voice boomed across the tavern. "Abigail Melissa Rawlings!"
My head jerked up as Abby whipped her head around to see an older man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties, his eyes glaring at the two of us. He was in good shape for a man his age, and he had a vein pulsing in his forehead as he stood rooted to his spot, his hands clenched at his side. At the sight of him, Abby jerked her hands back from mine, her eyes wide and fearful. I surged out of my chair, getting in between the two while the tavern went dead quiet. "Who the hell . . .?"
"Dane, stop," Abby said quietly, laying her hand on my arm. "He's . . . he's my father. Daddy, this is—”
"I know who this son of a bitch is," Abby's father said. “I’ll never forget the face of a goddamn terrorist sympathizing, murdering traitor. Dane-fucking-Bell."
"Daddy, please," Abby said, her voice quaking. "If you only knew him . . .”
"Enough!" he nearly screamed, his face turning purplish. "We're leaving. Now!"
I looked around the tavern. While there were a few people looking at Abby's father in shock and even some upset, there were just as many faces looking at me. Two of the guys looked like soldiers, perhaps on leave, or at least the type that wanted to be soldiers. High and tight haircuts, lean faces, and a look in their eyes that said they knew how to handle themselves. I reached back and put my hand on Abby's forearm, but not taking my eyes off her father. He looked mad enough to kill, and that was no exaggeration. "It's okay. It'd be better if I go. Abby, thank you."
I left, trying to keep my head high, even as Abby's father stared daggers at me, along with a few of the other patrons. Shawnie saw what was going on and stood up, but I glanced back quickly and shook my head. Abby needed her friend more than I did.
Outside the tavern, I watched as Abby's father said something in her ear, and Shawnie tried to defend her friend before a glare from him silenced her as well. I saw the door to the tavern open, and the soldier boys started to come out.
I'm no coward, but this was one situation where discretion was the better part of valor. I couldn't help Abby, but messing with those two guys would get me nothing but time in jail. Hating every step, I left, walking just below a run back toward the apartment.
Chapter 11
Abby
When I heard Daddy's voice cut through the bar, I froze, my heart trembling in my chest as my head whipped around to see him standing there, rage on his face. I'd seen him that mad only once before, when Mike Burriss had been caught red-handed drunk on a job site, and his drinking had caused two other men to get hurt. Daddy had needed to be restrained by four other men that day, and I knew that I had to try and do something. If he’d attacked Dane, Dane would either catch a beating if he didn't fight back, or else Daddy would go to the hospital. I'd seen Dane fight, and for all my Dad’s strength and rage, he wasn't a match.
Still, I also knew that Dane was a man who was conscious of his criminal record, and that he tried to do everything he could to blend in, not catch the attention of the police. If something did happen, he’d probably just let Daddy beat on him mercilessly. I had to do something, but I didn't know what. When Dane got up, trying to protect me, I laid a hand on his forearm, hoping that maybe I could use words to diffuse the situation. "Dane, stop. "He's . . . he's my father. Daddy, this is—”
Daddy cut me off, his face turning purplish and scaring me. After the cardiac incident back in high school, he wasn't supposed to get upset like this. And he almost never cut me off unless he was upset, and never by screaming at me. If anything, he would interrupt with quiet tones, never showing a lack of control of his emotions. He claimed it was what some of the upper-crust folks who tried to hold him back would use against him. This time, though, his voice was bellowing, loud, and dripping with the blue-collar accent that he’d tried his hardest in daily life to not let seep out. "Enough! We're leaving. Now!"
I wanted to say something more, but Dane's calm voice stopped me. I looked at him and was moved. He was obviously angry, but he was under control. A warm flush ran through me, knowing how much passion he had inside him, yet he kept it under such strong control—all to protect me. "It's okay. It'd be better if I go. Abby, thank you."
I watched Dane make his way out of The Nook, and turned my attention back to Daddy. "Daddy—”