Baewatch - Xavier Neal Page 0,81

have moments where it is difficult for me to hear.”

“Ah, medical condition, that I’m sure comes with extremely expensive set of medical bills you need help paying.”

My voice booms through the room, “Sunshine and seashells, I said enough!”

“Sunshine and seashells?!” Father grunts in his disgust. “What the hell is that? Speak like a goddamn man!”

“How about you try fucking acting like one!”

“I am! I’m man enough to question the obvious ulterior motives that some welfare beach bunny has for my extremely wealthy, although seemingly idiotic, son!”

“We,” I throw myself back, standing up, chair plummeting to the ground, “are absolutely fucking finished here!”

Mother meekly objects over her glass of wine, “Scott…”

“Brooklyn,” my hand lowers to help her rise, “let’s go.”

She glances at my hand, up at me, and back to my father. Instead of nodding in agreement or rushing out the door like I wouldn’t blink twice at, she lets out a deep breath and presents a polite expression. “Mr. Maxwell, which I know is what you want me to call you from the way you cringe every time I use your first name, I don’t have to answer a single one of your questions; however, I do not have to flee from them, either.”

Both of our brows soar to the ceiling.

“No, I do not come from a wealthy family. I do have debt to my name and a degree to thank for it. I put myself through school. I continuously competed to climb the ranks of a career you have so callously deemed worthless. I spend hours doing everything in my capability to care for my organization, our beaches, and our patrons. I have the third highest amount of hot spot rescues in the department and the absolute highest among the chiefs. And, that’s good because I’m their boss and should be better as well as held at a higher standard. The only reason I don’t continue to push for a higher position is because, just like your son, I prefer my time be spent connected to the water than in an office where it’s easy to forget you are not necessarily the apex predator you believe you are.” She stands on her own, and my heart aches at our missing connection. “I don’t want a single cent from you or this family. The only thing I want is to love your son and build a future and a family with him, which this is not. That decision, whether you object or not, is his. And, the decision to defend myself without raising my voice or my temper or me attacking you in return is mine.” Brooklyn swallows whatever emotion has collected in her throat and shoves another cordial expression onto her face. “May you all enjoy what’s left of your holiday.”

Her body turns and begins to exit without regard to whether or not I’m following.

“Scott, don’t go,” Mother swiftly pouts again. “Sit. Tend to her after dinner.”

“Tend to her after dinner?!” I yell in outrage. “She’s not my fucking dog, Mother. Whether you like it or not she’s my fucking fiancée!”

“We’ll see,” Father smugly states and settles back into his seat.

My hands curl into fists at my side unsure if I should swing them or pound them or shake them.

“Go,” Harrison gently pushes, tipping his chin the direction Brooklyn left.

To my surprise, April hastily nods in agreement.

Right.

Console fiancée first.

Cut off all parental ties second.

By the time I reach the front door, she’s nowhere to be found. Dread and panic of worst-case scenarios begin to ensue, but, thankfully, Donald informs me she’s just simply outside beside my vehicle. Although I’m grateful she didn’t call an Uber or Lyft to charter her all the way home or to our hotel, I’m not thrilled that she’s waiting out in the cold.

I rush to where she’s standing, ready to spew apologies and anger over their behavior, yet the instant I reach for her hand to hold while doing so, she immediately pulls it away.

Refuses to meet my stare.

Acknowledge my presence.

Aches of epic proportions immediately flood my system over the rejection, and I find myself being submerged by the emotional driftwood of dejection wedged on my chest.

Maybe she just…needs a moment.

Everything that just happened in there was like being hit by an emotional Tsunami.

Even the most well-adjusted individual would need a second to process that shit.

Instead of pushing for her to talk or to listen, I slide off my jacket, drape it over her shoulders to stop the shivers, and open the passenger door.