party.”
The process to get inside the prison is just as annoying as it was the first time we visited.
However, on this visit, DeLova is allowed to awkwardly embrace his daughter and sit down without a pane of plexiglass in the way. I can’t say the situation is an improvement.
“You came to visit again.” He smiles at his daughter then casts a less enthusiastic look my way. “And brought the young Mr. Adams with you. Again.”
Definitely not happy to see me.
“We have news that we wanted to share with you, Father.” She holds up her left hand and proudly flashes her engagement ring at him. I’ll never get tired of seeing her do that. “Chaser and I are getting married.”
Damn, I still get a thrill every single time she says it out loud.
Poor old man just stares at his daughter. His expression doesn’t change. Guess he’s not excited about our announcement.
Mallory drops her hand into her lap. “Father, I hope you’re happy for me.”
His tired gaze swings my way. “Does he treat you well, Mallory? Respect you?” he asks without taking his eyes off me.
I keep my hands clasped on the table in front of me and don’t move a muscle, wanting him to understand whatever comes out of Mallory’s mouth is the truth and not influenced by my presence.
“Yes, Father. Chaser is good to me. He’s always respectful.”
“So respectful you’re living in sin with this man out in the City of Angels?” He flips his wrist in a dismissive way.
Obviously, the old man is still keeping tabs on us.
Mallory inhales a deep breath. “I’m twenty years old, Father. My living arrangements are my business.”
He snorts.
“Chaser protects me and always supports me. You will be proud to have him as your son-in-law.”
“Who does my daughter need protection from?” he asks me.
A smart ass remark like “you and your thugs” flirts on the tip of my tongue but I bite it back. No reason to turn this visit into a shit show if I can avoid it. Or give the old man any ideas.
Besides, there are plenty of other things to protect Mallory from. No point in sugarcoating it. “There are a lot of sleazeballs in Hollywood, sir.”
“Then why do you allow her to continue this foolish pursuit?”
What a loaded question. Where to begin?
“Your daughter’s talented, sir. She wants to honor her mother’s memory by pursuing this career. I support her one-hundred percent.”
He winces at the mention of his wife and turns toward Mallory. “Angelina put those foolish ideas in your head, didn’t she? But she never shared all the bad experiences. I kept your mother safe. I protected her from sleazeballs.” He draws out the word in what I assume is an attempt to mock me.
“Did you protect her, sir?” I ask. “Or take something away she loved?”
He slams his fists against the table, drawing the attention of one of the guards. “She loved being a wife and mother.”
“But she could have done more,” Mallory whispers.
“God didn’t allow her time for more.” His cuffs scrape against the table as he reaches over and places his hands on top of Mallory’s. “You’re all I have left in this world.”
Her bottom lip trembles ever-so-slightly, but Mallory lifts her chin and answers in a firm voice, “Then you should want me to be happy.”
“I never knew you were this stubborn.” He casts a murderous look my way.
“Mallory has her own mind, sir. Maybe she didn’t have the courage to express it before you went inside, but I assure you her stubborn will to succeed didn’t develop overnight.”
“I wanted to keep you safe,” he says to Mallory, ignoring my comments. “Maybe I should have explained the kind of enemies I had when you were younger…”
“You wanted to control me and treat me like a piece of property, Father.” Mallory’s obviously given this a lot of thought and I couldn’t be prouder of the fire in her eyes and snap to her tone as she lets her father know exactly how she feels. “To you, I’m no different from your expensive paintings or your Mercedes. Find a safe place to park me and show me off when it suits you. Maybe if you and Mom had raised a different daughter that would have been okay but it’s not okay for me.”
Holy fuck am I glad he’s chained up on the other side of that table.
DeLova works his jaw from side to side as he swallows Mallory’s words down. “You’re my daughter. A piece of me. I