Page 223 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“How mad is Grandad?” He peers up at me, his eyes filled with worry.

“We haven’t had time to be mad because we’ve been too worried.”

Elaine grabs James’s backpack and holds it out to him. “I understand. I’m so sorry, Sophie.” She drops her gaze to James. “Josh will see you at school tomorrow. Please apologize to your grandad for me. I feel terrible.”

I reach forward and squeeze her forearm. “Please don’t. You did nothing wrong. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Aww, Mom. Can’t I stay?” James whines, dragging his feet.

“No, James. You can’t stay,” I snap as I tug him forward. Now that I know he’s safe, my anger at his thoughtlessness is taking over.

Lincoln follows behind wordlessly as I wrap my arm around James’s shoulders, guiding him to Lincoln’s car. We all climb in and I text Dad to let him know we found my wayward son. The car ride home is done in silence and it seems to take forever to drive the five and a half miles. Dad’s waiting out the front with a police officer when we arrive. James’s eyes widen when he sees the officer, and he turns his attention back to me.

“We had no idea where you were, James. You need to understand that we thought you’d been abducted. The police have been looking for you. We’ve been worried sick,” I tell him as we climb out of the car.

He drops his gaze to the ground but not before I see the shininess in his eyes and the quiver of his lips. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“You need to apologize to Grandad and the policemen. Then I want you to go straight to your room. We need to talk.”

He kicks the ground with his shoe. “Yes, Mom.” He hangs his head and slumps his shoulders, but makes his way toward Dad.

“I didn’t know whether to be mad at him or relieved that he was okay when I saw him. Relief won out, but now I’m so pissed that he scared us like that,” I mutter.

Linc wraps his arm around my shoulder and I melt against him, taking the comfort and support he’s offering. “Hey, I never met the kid, and I was battling between relieved and pissed. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.” He says that, but I’m certain he can. He drops a kiss to the top of my head and my lids fall closed. “Are you gonna be okay?” he murmurs against my hair. “I can stay or I can leave. Whatever you need, Shortcake.”

I wish I could ask him to stay. To help me deal with the fallout from today, but I glance across at Dad, finding him watching us with annoyance. “I think it’s best you leave.” I reluctantly pull away from the sanctuary of his arms. “James won’t be the only one in trouble tonight,” I murmur.

Lincoln studies my face closely with curious eyes. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay? Your dad seemed pissed at me … not sure why.” He glances over my shoulder and then drops his gaze back to me. “I can stay if you need someone to have your back.”

My heart flips at his generous offer, but I need to deal with Dad on my own. We have a lot to discuss, and I think it’s going to be a long night. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully,” I whisper the last word under my breath.

He leans down to kiss me, but I turn my face to give him my cheek since Dad’s watching us like a hawk.

I’m freaking twenty-six.

I shouldn’t let Dad dictate my life choices, but it’s tough when I’m still living in his home, and I try—mostly—to be respectful of him and his expectations. Most of the time, he gives me the space to be an adult; however, I don’t think I’ll have that luxury tonight.

I watch Lincoln leave and apologize profusely to the police officers, then follow Dad and James inside. I lean against the closed door, watching James disappear down the hallway to his bedroom and I know he’s genuinely sorry, but it’s going to take me a while to recover from this afternoon. I drop my head against the wood, exhausted—emotionally and physically. My muscles are going to be sore tomorrow.

“Sophie Mae?” Shit, he’s pulled out the middle name. I peel my eyes open to find his disapproving glare aimed my way while he waves his arm up and down at me. “I didn’t recognize the girl who came home today.” His eyes narrow. “I thought all of this was left behind long ago.” Wheeling closer, he looks up at me. “And a tattoo shop?” The disappointment dripping from his voice makes me ache, and shame that I couldn’t keep living the lie for him when he’s done so much for me and James washes through me. “This isn’t you.”

“This is me, Dad,” I murmur.

His brows drop over his eyes. Confusion has turned to anger. “No, it isn’t. This isn’t the daughter I raised on my own.” He slams his hand on the arm of his chair. “The daughter I gave everything to.”

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you again. I’ve tried.” I hold my hands out from my sides. “Lord knows I’ve tried to be the daughter you want me to be, but I’ve been struggling to be that person. I need to be me.” I swipe at my cheeks while my heart disintegrates in my chest as I utter my truth. “I was dying a little more every day, and I needed to live my life the way I want.”

“Not while you’re under my roof, you won’t. This is the sort of behavior that got you into trouble in the first place,”—I suck in a sharp breath at his blatant accusation—“and I see that you’re heading straight down the same road. A-a-and that man.” He stabs his finger toward the front door, but he may as well have plunged a dagger into my heart. “With all those … those tattoos. He’s clearly more than your boss, Sophie. I may be in a wheelchair with legs that don’t work, but my eyes work just fine.”

My heart pounds and my body heats. “You know nothing about Lincoln. Don’t you dare judge him because of the art he wears on his body,” I snap.

“Art,” he scoffs. “You know tattoos are the devil’s work. We’ve had this discussion before!” he shouts, wheeling closer. “I forbid you to see him.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I push away from the door, leaning forward to close the distance between us. “He’s my boss. You can’t forbid me from seeing him. I work for him,” I shout back, my blood boiling in my veins.

“You won’t be going back there. Find another job!” His hand flies down to his wheel and he spins away from me, rolling down the hallway to the kitchen.

I stomp after him. “I refuse to find another job. I’m finally doing something I love. Something I’m good at.” I suck in a sharp breath and dig deep for my bravery. “I love tattoos. I love that my art is going to be on someone’s body forever. I love them so much that I … I have tattoos!”

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