his own poor skills, your own fuck-all training, and then I’ll win.”
I slapped the armrests of the chair and stood. “Great.” I looked down at him, hands on hips. His eyes held no warmth, no love, nothing. He wasn’t a father. He was just some fucking loser who’d somehow spawned me. “Then leave me alone.”
“And your girlfriend, too?”
My phone vibrated again, but I ignored it. The fact that he mentioned Emory had my fists clenching. I knew how to fight with fists and was used to a verbal sparring match with my dad, but that was over inconsequential shit not Emory. I wanted to beat the fuck out of him, kill him with my bare hands—that’s how much I hated him, but this was a casino. There were cameras everywhere, and he knew it. This was his sanctuary, and he was safe here.
If we were on the ranch, he’d be dead, and no one would ever know. Hell, I’d leave him somewhere no one would ever find him. Besides the coyotes and buzzards.
But this wasn’t the ranch. This wasn’t the ring. This was a mind game. If I made Emory out to be something important, he’d pick at the very idea of her like a scab. So I shrugged it off. “No girlfriend.”
“Oh? She was a bad fuck? She looked pretty limber to me.”
My eyes narrowed, but I kept my cool. Barely. “If you want to fuck with me, fine, but let’s leave everyone else out of it.”
His cell rang. Neither of us would have noticed it in the loud casino noise if it hadn’t vibrated across the small table beside his drink.
He picked it up and glanced at the screen. I watched as his skin paled beneath the fake tan.
My cell vibrated once more but I just watched my dad. He actually looked… afraid.
“Answer your phone,” he said, without looking up from the screen on his.
I sighed, pulling mine from my pocket. “Green.”
“Gray, Quake Baker here. You met my son and grandson. Sorry for getting to you through your dad, but you wouldn’t answer your phone.”
What the fuck? Quake Baker had Dad’s number and had texted him. What the hell did the message say because it looked as if my dad just pissed himself. Besides that, how the hell did Quake know I was with my dad right now? How did he know my number? I looked around. There were people all around but too self-involved to be interested in either my father or me. It was a casino with cameras everywhere. We were two hundred miles from Brant Valley. How far was this man’s reach? Did I really want to know?
“You’ll have to tell me how the two of you are pals someday,” I said.
I heard a chuckle through the phone. “The MC’s got a big reach.”
As if that explained it all.
“What can I do for you?”
“Talked with Emory and invited both of you to the Double-B for dinner. She’s coming with friends. Told me they’re spending the day together. Nice job with the babysitters.”
I was trying to keep up. I knew of Quake and the No Holds Barred MC, knew of their dealings, and it was more than just the Early Bird Special and a slice of homemade pie. From the way my dad was reacting, he knew about them, too.
“If she’s accepted, then I’ll be there,” I replied. I didn’t want to say Emory’s name in front of my dad, so I kept it neutral. I didn’t want him to know jack shit about her.
“Good. Ask your pops if he wants to come too.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I had no interest, ever, in eating a meal with my dad, but Quake had a reason for it. “Quake Baker wants to know if you want to join me for dinner tonight at his diner.”
Dad turned to look up at me, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. This was the first time—ever—I had seen him weak and vulnerable. He cleared his throat. “Tell him thanks, but I’ll be staying at the ranch.”
“He offers his regrets,” I told Quake.
“Yeah, figured. Guessing your meeting’s over, so you should be back in time to get your girl. Later.”
I tucked my phone in my pocket and settled my hands back on my hips, waiting to see if my dad was going to say anything else. He sat there, shoulders slumped, skin orange and pale all at the same time. I saw him for what he really was.