Page 66 of Falling in Reverse

“You still owe me a window, asshole,” I growl in his face. “And a fucking apology. What makes you think you’re getting a free drink?”

He flicks his gaze behind me to Emilio, looking all the part bitch because he can’t make a move without him. It’s then that I really wish I would’ve done more than punch him in the face.

“I have a family dinner next Friday,” Emilio quips, as if nothing is happening over here. “I’d like you to come.”

“This could’ve been a text,” I shoot back, keeping my ground so sticky fingers over here doesn’t go helping himself.

His dark, almost colorless eyes cling to my glare, as if it means absolutely nothing to him. A complete contrast to the other day when he sucked on my neck like I was something he wanted to taste.

“I’m more a show up in-person type of guy,” Emilio informs me as if I was wondering about that fact for days.

“You can’t summon me like a fucking dog, dude. I have a life. I go to school.”

“Haven.” I hate how my body follows that order. How, just that name that I’ve never heard in my life, has me glimpsing over my shoulder at him. “You’re going to need to face this.” His tone dips, the warning label of his patience hitting the rational side of my brain, and I’m more than outnumbered here.

But he wouldn’t hurt me, right?

I’m his fucking daughter. One he claimed in front of his stepson and proclaimed that I’m going to be part of his big, bad empire.

“I want him out from behind my bar,” I order, clenching my hands into fists. Emilio doesn’t hesitate, jerking his head and silently signaling for his lackey to get the fuck out so I’ll listen to him.

Pivoting to face my sperm donor, I inhale deeply, knowing that Emilio has me cornered. I’d be stupid if I didn’t just get this over with soon and as quickly as possible. And somehow, Emilio already has a bottle of bourbon and a shot glass in front of him.

I clench my jaw again and will send him the bill when I chip a tooth from keeping my words from leaving my mouth about how entitled he is.

“Am I going to be expecting you there?” Emilio pours himself a healthy glass, and my temples begin to throb at how utterly fucking stupid my life has become.

“Where?”

“Friday night dinner.” I’m so confused about what part of my not wanting anything to do with him he’s not understanding.

“Why, so your boys can harass me?” I finger-gun his associate who just attempted to squeeze behind my bar. “I need you to call your dogs off.”

My so-called biological father lifts a brow over the rim of his drink. “Are you still running your dope through my streets?”

Let’s be real here, when would I ever admit to that?

“Nope,” I lie without an ounce of remorse. “Ask him if he found anything. I’m allowed to drive to where I need to go.”

Emilio hits me with a you’re full of bullshit stare. “Don’t lie, Haven. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Ask him. And my name is Bay.”

He sighs and waits, but nothing is said from behind him, which is good enough for Emilio because he rolls his attention back to me. “Just because they didn’t find anything doesn’t mean you haven’t been around. Regardless…I’ll need a cut if you’re running your shit through my town.”

It was worth a shot.

“No family discount, eh?”

“Cairo”— Emilio jerks his head to his right—“let me and my daughter speak alone.”

I hear shuffling footsteps, then Emilio is crooking his finger at me like a petulant child.

Reluctantly, I follow his instruction, because the sooner he gets out, I get to go home, and obtain some shut-eye for school tomorrow.

“Would you like a drink?” My blues slit against his, almost identical, and I wish I never would’ve noticed that before. I’m not enjoying all these new changes and people in my life. “I think our relationship could be beneficial for both of our towns. There are?—”

“I already told you that I’m not your in to South Shore. So, if that’s your idea to obtaining a relationship with me, might as well off that one, too.”

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