The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,113
I growled.
“Because I can’t,” she said, taking a step away from me. Seeing me follow, she gave up retreating. Glancing over her shoulder at the man waiting, I could see the agony in her eyes when she turned back to me. “I don’t want to be yours.”
She didn’t give me the chance to call her on her shit before turning away. The hem of the light-brown dress she wore twirled in a perfect circle before settling around her long legs once more. Every step she took seemed designed to entice. To captivate.
My lips curled. I hated everything about her at that moment.
Trapped inside that plastic shell was the girl I’d fallen in love with, and one way or another, I was getting her back.
Charging forward, my hands shoved into her back, sending her forward.
I heard her startled cry just before she fell onto the concrete, landing on her hands and knees. Instantly regretting it, I rushed forward to help her up, not waiting to see if it had worked—if she would get back up and fight me.
A thousand apologies waited to spill from my heart onto my lips, but the man who’d been waiting for her got to her first. I watched as he helped a crying Bee to her feet and then ushered her into the SUV. The man didn’t bother looking my way when he shut the door and rounded the hood. Moments later, I was plagued with a foreign sensation—the feel of a tear slipping from my eye as I watched them go.
I wiped it away, but if I had known the worst was yet to come, I wouldn’t have bothered.
Our fight was witnessed by a teacher who, when realizing I wasn’t a student, called the police. The police called my parents, and my parents called my aunt and uncle. By the time my uncle picked me up to bring me to his home, the Montgomery’s were there waiting. Not only had Bee told her father that I had pushed her, but her hands and knees were scraped in the fall, too. He threatened to press charges if I didn’t stay away from his precious daughter.
He hadn’t needed to.
Even if I could get past my anger, I could never get past the pain.
Bee and I were done.
Present
THE RAGE ON MY FATHER’S face when I stepped out of the science lab with Jamie was one I was familiar with. I’d seen it many times when I wouldn’t comply or give up my childish hopes and dreams. I could still remember the words he spewed and the threat behind them the last time he’d beat me.
“You have a duty to this family, and you’ll do what must be done. Won’t you?”
The backhanded blow my father dealt, the first in almost two years, knocked me off my feet and sent me skidding across the floor. “Whore,” I heard him hiss.
He didn’t get the chance to say more. As Four helped me to my feet, Jamie pounced, wrapping his hands around my father’s neck. He drove him into the cluttered bulletin board hanging on the wall before squeezing his hands tighter.
“You seem to have lost your fucking mind.”
Jamie’s voice was calm. Too calm. The quiet before the storm.
“She’s my daughter!” my father choked out. “I’ll deal with her as I damn well please.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You won’t be touching her, seeing her, or speaking to her ever again.”
“Unhand me!” my father screamed. “You think you can take care of her? You’re nothing but a fucking punk!”
“Actually, I can.” Jamie leaned forward and began whispering in my father’s ear. I knew the moment my father’s eyes bulged with fear and regret that it was the same thing Jamie had told me last night. He’d been the key to my father’s treasure chest all along. “Because you’re my future father-in-law, I was willing to throw you a bone. That’s dead now, so mark my words. Your daughter was mine the moment I set eyes on her six years ago. Unfortunately for you and your pet cougar, I won’t have to pay a dime to prove it.”
I was grateful when Jamie let him go—not for my father’s sake but for his own. I stood perfectly still as Jamie rushed to my side. Inspecting my face, his jaw clenched at what I was sure was my father’s handprint. Kissing my lips, he pulled me close. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered as if he’d been the one to strike me.