Make Me Bad - R.S. Grey Page 0,68

jeans, he has a few inches on my dad. His eyes are fierce. His chin is lifted.

When it’s clear he’s not going to reply, my dad shakes his head with disdain. “I should throw your ass in jail.”

Ben’s eyes narrow imperceptibly and I take the opportunity to jump between them. My hands hit my dad’s chest and I try in vain to push him back a few inches.

“Truly, this isn’t so bad.”

His eyes slide to me. “You reek of whiskey.”

“First of all, thank you. Second of all, you have to stop. This is not what it looks like.”

His eyes widen. “Not what it looks like? Madison, I just got a call in the middle of the night from an officer telling me my daughter was stumbling drunk on the beach, completely nude. You tell me how that sounds.”

I cringe. “Okay, yes, that’s…not ideal, but—”

He shakes his head and reaches out for my arm, yanking me toward him. “C’mon, we’re going home.”

I try and fail to pull myself out of his grasp. He can’t do this. He can’t turn the best night of my life into the absolute worst.

“Dad, let go,” I hiss, trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice.

Ben steps forward then. “You heard her.”

No. No. Shit.

My dad’s nostrils flare and I know we’re seconds away from going down a road there’s no coming back from. If Ben touches my dad, my dad will press charges. Ben will be in jail and maybe one misdemeanor didn’t matter, but I’m pretty sure assaulting a police officer—even one who’s off duty—won’t be brushed aside so easily.

Even still, I can’t blame Ben for thinking I need his protection. My dad is trying to physically drag me off the beach, and I’m resisting. It doesn’t look good, but my dad isn’t a bad guy, and neither is Ben. Everything just looks…bad.

“Shit!” I shout suddenly, finally finding enough strength to break free. My arms flail as I speak. “Both of you stand down. Jesus. I don’t need either of you getting into a fight over me. This is ridiculous.” I turn to my dad, my finger poking his chest with every word I speak. “Ben isn’t a bad guy. You think he’s an entitled rich asshole, but he might be the kindest man I’ve ever met outside of my own family. Pull your head out of your ass and stop with all this ‘stay away from him’ bullshit! And you,” I say, whirling around to face Ben. “Just…”

Please don’t give up on us.

Please don’t let this ruin what we have.

Please answer the phone when I call you in the morning.

Those are all the things I want to say, but instead, I settle on, “Please don’t punch my dad. He means well.”

His eyes soften a smidge, but not nearly as much as I would like.

They’re still acting like two dogs circling around each other, hackles raised. Neither one of them is going to back down. My dad’s not going to toss up his hands and say, You know what? You’re right. Ben, you have my blessing to date my daughter. And Ben isn’t going to beg my father to see reason and give him a chance. He has too much pride.

Ben’s eyes turn to me, and I see his anger boiling there. I feel so bad for dragging him into this situation. I don’t want to be the reason he suffers. My dad has it wrong. Ben is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like this.

“I want you to leave my daughter alone.”

I cringe at the request, hating how mean my dad sounds, how fiercely protective he’s being. Any other man would do exactly as he says and walk—no, run from the beach, but Ben stands immobile, his amber eyes on me. Steam rolls off his broad shoulders. He won’t leave me here, and my heart is breaking for him.

There’s no good option. I could leave with Ben—my heart is screaming at me to leave with Ben—but I can’t do that to my dad. My dad, the man who sacrificed so much to raise me, who’s stood by my side my whole life.

No matter what I decide, I’m going to hurt one of them, so I do the only thing I can do. I throw up my hands and turn to walk away by myself.

Now no one needs to be my protector. No one needs to drag me away.

I’ll go all by myself.

Ben shouts at me to slow down.