Page 39 of Pretty Broken Things

I continue to apply mascara. “Would you go into battle without armor?” I ask him once the wand is safely away from my eye.

Shane frowns. “Is it going to be that bad? Maybe I shouldn’t have picked you up. If Ford thinks you’re in danger he’s definitely going to beat your dad’s ass.”

I shrug one shoulder. “He’s not a physical threat, but I doubt Ford is going to like what he hears. It’s going to happen eventually though, and there’s no reason he should have to face my father’s displeasure.”

“Well, your dad is his stepdad now,” Shane reminds me.

“And we’re both eighteen. Neither of our parents have given a shit about us for months, they can just go right back to pretending we don’t exist,” I say, facing the passenger window.

“Do you really think that will happen?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nope. I think my dad is too concerned someone will figure out we’re now stepsiblings so he’s going to do everything he can to split us up.”

He starts to tap his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. “Are you going to let him?”

I take a deep breath and risk the truth. “If leaving Ford is the only way to save him, then I’ll do it.”

The wheel creaks as he squeezes it. “What do you want me to do with that information?”

This time I turn to face him. “I want you to protect Ford, no matter what. If you have to throw me under the proverbial bus, do it. You have to know that if I have to leave him, I’ve done everything else I can to make sure he gets out of Jefferson Park and gets a shot at the future he deserves. If it does come to that, I can only hope someday he’ll hear me out and forgive me.”

Shane exhales loudly. “It sounds like you’ve already decided this is how it’s going to go down.”

“I didn’t hand over my car keys for no reason. I know what it looks like when my father digs in, and I know he’s the one with the power in this situation.”

“No, if you’re afraid Ford will have to move home, don’t. My grandparents will give him a place to stay. Ford and I have been playing musical houses our entire lives. Your dad has nothing.”

I turn back to the window, and say mostly to myself, but I know he hears me, “I hope you’re right.”

ChapterEighteen

Tessa

Shane wasn’t exaggeratingthe atmosphere surrounding my father and Ford. I feel like we walked into a showdown at high noon the way they’re trying to stare each other down. My father won’t be able to intimidate Ford the way he does other people. He doesn’t care about money, and he doesn’t have enough concern for his personal safety to back down from a fight. Since it’s clear my father has no plans to take this physical there’s only one piece of leverage he has left. Me.

That is made clear to me the moment Shane and I walk into the hospital. A malicious smirk crosses my dad’s face, and I shiver seeing how little regard he holds for me. I know there’s no escaping what is about to happen, because we’re no longer in the more public waiting room attached to the ER.

Camille has been moved to a private room, no doubt funded by my father. Instead of sitting on the uncomfortable chairs in the ER waiting room, we’re in a sitting area just outside Camille’s recovery suite. No one else is up here except the four of us. At least my dad was thoughtful enough to leave Camille’s room before facing off with her son. I doubt it’s out of respect for her though. Right now he needs her either for his own entertainment, or to have a beautiful woman on his arm at business functions. It wouldn’t serve his needs to let her see him mistreat her son.

“What are you doing here, Contessa?” He’s not surprised in the slightest to see me here.

I can play this game. I don’t want to, but he’s the one who taught me after all. “Back to Contessa, am I?”

“I’m not in the mood for your attitude today.” He takes a step away and motions for me to follow him by crooking two of his fingers at me.

I follow because I want to get this over with. We take a few steps until we’re fairly isolated in the hallway. “You are going to break up with Ford.”

I open my mouth to argue. Not sure what I’m going to say, but I’m not giving in just because he says so.

He holds up his hand. “Don’t even bother lying to me. I’ve gone over the outdoor security footage, and I know he’s been staying with you for over a month. I did a bit of looking through your room and noticed you’ve got several drawers full of men’s clothes. End it now.”

“No.” I don’t have any justification, because he’s not worth the breath.

“I’m not messing around here. Camille and I just got married. I won’t have us become the talk of my social set because our children are shacking up. We’re not some hillbilly family. It’s bad enough we will have to deal with her past, I’m not about to add an incestuous relationship between our children.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes at him. “First, we aren’t related, so it’s not incest. Second, I’d think yoursocial setwould judge you more harshly for being an absentee father more than my relationship, which predates yours by the way.”

That anxious feeling is building to the point I will either need to run or vomit. “Why did you even marry her if you think she’s so far beneath you?”

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