“Not now. God! Just… be quiet…” I snapped, wincing at what she must be thinking of me. A pained cry ripped from her throat and she curled her body away from me, the crystal clip from her hair falling to the floor.
I was right to have been suspicious of the invite and my parents’ intentions in meeting my girl. The fucking vultures had circled us, lured us in, and then pounced. Hell, not pounced—ripped us apart until there was nothing left, shredding our dignity and stomping all over my girl’s already broken heart.
Spotting the cabin, I practically jumped out of the truck while it was still moving. The cramped space of the seats, too small, claustrophobia fucking choking me.
Barging through the cabin, my childhood place of salvation, I began kicking and lashing out at anything in sight, thinking back over every detail of tonight…
“Mother. Always a pleasure,” I said as she opened the door and immediately started on the fact that we were late.
“Shame the same can’t be said for you,” she’d bit back.
Gripping an old lamp, I lifted it off the floor and launched it against the wall, enjoying the sound of it smashing to smithereens.
“You kept us waiting on our invitation for dinner tonight, boy. Not acceptable!” my daddy had snarled the minute he saw us. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Where was the man who was telling me he wanted to build bridges? Where was the bastard olive branch? His smirk at my obvious shock said everything. He’d planned the whole thing to make me look like a fool; he’d lied to me yesterday in his study. They were going to tear Molly to pieces right in front of me. They were going to make her leave me.
The side table was next, and gripping one of the thin, fragile legs, I picked it up and slammed it to the floor.
“So, Molly, I suppose you’re aware of Romeo’s plans after college?” my momma asked Molly as we sat on the couch, my daddy glaring at me, smiling in victory when my eyes met his.
“With football?” Molly had asked, pulling my focus back on my momma. My parents’ laughter echoed around the huge room.
“Absolutely not! We’re talking about his duty to take over the family business,” my daddy said, moving closer from his place against the fire.
“Daddy,” I threatened, my voice low and harsh. Molly’s frightened eyes darted around the three of us, her hand gripping mine so tight it almost cut off the circulation in my fingers.
“She needs to know, Rome,” my daddy went on. “She needs to know that you won’t have time to continue your player lifestyle.” Molly stilled.
“Leave it!” I shouted. “I won’t do this with you tonight.”
As I stood in the quiet cabin, I tried to put myself in my folks’ shoes. Had I been that much of a letdown over the years? Enough to deserve such blatant cruelty? And Mol, Molly’s only crime was in being with me—the first person I’d truly let in and they were trying to rip her from me. Hell, for all I knew, she could’ve already decided she’d had enough. She hadn’t bothered coming in here after me. Then again, she was probably scared out of her mind. I was acting insane.
Expelling a loud scream that had been building in my throat, I pounded to the wall and began punching it again and again and again at what had happened next…
Then, all of a sudden, there was Shelly, striding in like she owned the place, kissing my momma and being treated like the daughter they’d never had—hell, the child they’d never had.
The grand plan was finally revealed. They’d wanted to get it through to Mol that Shelly was what they wanted, and like my daddy and momma always said, they always get what they want!
I flew toward my parents and snapped, “How dare you do this to us!”
“Shelly is family and Molly needed to be informed of a few things that may affect your little… relationship,” my daddy said in his usual condescending tone.
“Don’t start this shit again, and while you’re at it, treat Molly with some fuckin’ respect!”
And then the fucker bowed, ridiculing my girl. “Your Majesty, how is the queen?”
My hands began to shake with fury. Molly was friggin’ mute beside me, her golden eyes huge with fear. “You invited us here for dinner, to meet her, why? Was it all bullshit? Was your plan to rip on her the minute she walked through the damn door?”
My daddy looked at Molly like she was a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe. “Why the hell would we want to meet a gold-digging whore, let alone entertain her at dinner? She probably struggles to even use cutlery she’s so poor. Shel’s told us a lot about your girlfriend.”
And then he put the final nail in the coffin. “Tonight was an intervention. We had to get you to bring your new titbit before us somehow. A dinner invite seemed best. So now you’re here and we have your attention. You’ll do as instructed and end this charade. Immediately. Send your little British slut on her way… preferably back across the Atlantic.”