Page 99 of Dark Delights

Soren considered me for a long moment and then leaned forward. “Let’s get one thing straight, Miss Martino. Beckett is my son, and I know him better than you ever will. You think that because you two are shacking up together that you mean something to him? Beckett knows what he is…a liar, a slacker, a hopeless dreamer…you can’t change those things about him. Believe me, I know.”

“He’s not a liar,” I protested.

Soren held up a silencing hand. “He is a liar. He tried to pull apart my marriage when he was seventeen with his lies, just because he missed his mother. He’s selfish, Eve…and he’ll take what he wants from you and discard you. I hope you’re being careful living together, because Beckett knows what’s expected of him and the woman he marries and has kids with. You won’t be that woman, Eve, so forget it now. He has a finely tuned gold-digger radar.”

I had no words to answer that outrageous statement. Like I was thinking about marriage right now, as a college freshman. It only made me madder that Soren thought he could ignore his son, destroy his confidence by not believing him when he was younger, and then turn around and tell him how to live.

I was speechless. Anger had stolen my words, and I was just gaping like a fish. The photos on my phone felt like they were screaming at me. The urge to prove to Soren that he wasn’t qualified to pick a suitable wife himself was almost too strong to ignore. Only the thought of Beckett stopped me. He should find out first, and do what he wanted with that information.

“Now, if that’s all, then you should get back to work.” Soren sat back, brushing off his jacket like he’d just got done taking out the trash.

I turned to go. I should leave it. Arguing with Soren wasn’t helping anything. I didn’t argue with adults, period, never mind someone who was in a position of power over me. That’s not how I’d maintained a calm life as long as I had.

“You’re wrong.” The words burst out before I could stop them. “Everything you just said is wrong, and you have no idea. You’re so confident in your ignorance.”

Soren couldn’t have been more shocked if I’d slapped him. I knew how he felt. I was pretty shocked at myself.

“Your son isn’t a liar. He’s not a slacker, either. He’s honest and works and trains hard. He takes care of his friends and never asks for anything in return…his only problem is that he was abandoned by you years ago, when he needed you the most. You failed your son, Mr. Anderson…you really fucking failed him, and left him all alone?—”

“Beckett?”

Soren was staring over my shoulder at the entrance from the gardens. Beckett was standing right there. I could have cried with relief at seeing him in one piece. But he looked like shit. Dark circles wreathed his eyes, and stubble lined his jaw. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

“Beck?” I prompted.

His eyes were fixed on me. The expression in them was unbearably sad.

“Beckett? What the hell is this girl talking about?” Soren stood. “Explain why I’m being accosted with falsehoods,” he demanded angrily.

Beckett tore his eyes from me and shifted his gaze to his father. The sadness in his eyes hardened, and fury replaced it. He turned on his heel and strode out the side door, into the darkness beyond.

“No!” I cried, running after him. I’d just found him, damn it. I wasn’t letting him get away from me again. “Beckett! Don’t leave me here!”

I caught up to him in the parking lot. He continued striding toward his car. He was going to leave me here, and I wouldn’t be able to find him again.

He made it to his car and hopped in, his face a mask of anger.

I was running after him before I could question the impulse. I reached the passenger door just before he pulled out. I jumped in and slammed the door. He glanced at me, pausing for just a moment while I tugged on my seatbelt.

“You’re not going without me,” I stated flatly.

“You don’t want to go where I’m going.” His voice was hard with hurt and fury.

“Yes, I do. I don’t care where it is, I’m going.”

His jaw clenched even tighter at my reply, and then that mad, cruel light entered his eyes that I’d last seen in his bedroom, the day before college had begun.

“Fine. But don’t forget that you asked for this,” he murmured and put the car in gear, peeling out of the parking lot.

A loud squeal and the smell of burning rubber filled the interior. We hit the winding, dark road that led from the hill that the country club sat on, and wound down along the coast, toward Hade Harbor.

As soon as we reached a straight stretch, Beckett pressed the accelerator steadily down. The car barreled along the road.

“It’s a little fast, isn’t it?”

“You wanted to come,” he reminded me again. His arms were taut, the muscles tense as he gripped the steering wheel, turning it masterfully, keeping the car on the road.

“Okay, but I want to go home after, too,” I murmured.

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