Page 89 of Hired Help

He pulls back, shaking his head with laughter. “Brat. You’re nothing but a brat and I’m going to discipline you so hard tonight that you won’t sit for days.”

“Is that for the first part or the last part of my suggestion? Give me some parameters.”

He grabs me around the shoulders, then rubs his knuckles on my head until I squeal, making Harrison grin. “Somebody’s in desperate need of parental guidance and since I’m the only parent present, that job falls to me.”

“Pfft. Someone’s talking themselves out of a private plane ride.”

Daegan’s face stills. “You’re eighteen and have your own plane?”

“It’s her dad’s,” Harrison helpfully supplies. “Are you going to tell us about whatever scheme of yours we’ve just hijacked?”

I shrug, biting on my nails while I try not to think of what’s happening at the other end of this flight. “I just need to ask Alicia a few questions. You don’t have to come.” I shift on the seat, my discomfort increasing. “In fact, it might be easier if you don’t.”

Harrison studies my face for a few seconds, then nods. “Okay.”

“No, it’s not okay.” Daegan takes my hand. “Whatever your questions are, they’re obviously causing you distress. We’re not about to let you go somewhere on your own, feeling tense and nervous.” He looks past me at his son, and Harrison takes my other hand, squeezing it before linking his fingers through mine, a united front. “Whatever you’ve been used to in the past, we’re your support system now.”

Daegan runs a knuckle along my cheekbone while a knot inside me—a knot that I can’t ever remember not being there—loosens, frays, the ends spooling apart. “Good luck ever confronting anyone on your own, ever again.”

I clutch at both their hands, holding my men tight, then jump as my name’s called out. “Guess this is it.”

* * *

HARRISON

When we board, I throw myself into the chair next to Brooke, blocking my father, forcing him to take the seat opposite. The conversational grouping of recliners isn’t my favourite, but I clutch her hand, kissing the knuckles while I stare across at my father, taking a modicum of pleasure from the clench of his jaw. Brooke snatches her hand back the moment she realises, making his eyes glimmer with amusement.

He presented us to her like a united front and we’re not. A sensation that deepens when Brooke turns to me, whispering for my ears only, “Are you okay?” Then, when I nod. “Did you talk about him leaving?”

My dad’s eyes sharpen, and I glance away, shaking my head. “How about we focus on you, today, and everything else can be sorted tomorrow?”

“What’s everything else?” he asks, shifting in his seat.

“I don’t want to do this here.”

“And I didn’t want to go to Auckland today to confront the woman I think of as my mum,” Brooke says, bumping me with her elbow. “But I’m doing it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Harrison.” She reaches out and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. “I just went through six weeks of hell because you refused to talk to me. If that shit’s going to continue, you can get off the plane right now.”

A threat undermined as the pilot taxis us away from the terminal, heading for the far right strip. There’s no dulling of Brooke’s expression though. She stares at me with her eagle eyes, seeing everything.

“You really want me to air our dirty laundry here?”

“Where else?” she challenges. “You’re stuck together for the next hour. Might as well put it to good use.”

I run my fingertip from her elbow to her upper arm. “There are so many other better ways to use the time.”

She levels a stare at me that would tell me I was on thin ice if I hadn’t picked up the signs. Rather than have her burn my retinas, I glance across to Dad, who has an expression of deep longing.

“Fine,” I mutter, easing my shoulders out while I think where to start. “Why did you tell Mum you’d moved to Dunedin when she told you I was coming to school here?”

His frown tells me half the story before his lips move. “I never told her that.”

“Why didn’t you visit me, then?”

“I tried.” My lip forms a snarl, and he holds up his hands, palms facing me. “Honestly. I talked my way through the front gate, then couldn’t get any farther. Nobody would even confirm if you went to the school or not, and I had to leave when they threatened to call the police for trespass.”

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