Page 67 of Inked Persuasion

I glared at her. “Jacob doesn’t love me. He’s been married before. He just got out of that relationship. He told me this was too soon, and we did our thing anyway. And now I’m going to have to see him and his family every Sunday for dinner. I just… I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t walk away from them. Yet Jacob’s walking away from me.”

The door opened then, and I couldn’t say anything else. Still, I knew our conversation wasn’t over. My father strode in, the brothers behind him. Clay stood near the doorway, and I waved.

“Hi, family member who’s not an actual family member,” I said to Clay.

“I’m just making sure you’re not bleeding, and I don’t need to call 911. Are you okay?” he asked, and all of the brothers and my father looked over at Clay, narrowing their eyes. They’d wanted to come in and try to save the day, but here was Clay, attempting to help.

“I’m fine. I needed a moment to cry about something that is none of anyone’s business, but now I’m ready to continue my day without the drama. It’s good to see everybody. Now, let’s get back to work.” I clapped my hands twice and stood up. Eliza and Paige cleared away the tissues, each kissed me on the cheek, and then strode out, pulling my brothers with them.

Beckett glared at Eliza, but he let her drag him by the arm, along with Benjamin when she got to him. Paige wrapped her arms around my twin and tugged. Archer just looked at her, rolled his eyes dramatically, and let her drag him out of the room.

That left me with my father.

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay because I learned long ago with your mother that you’ll tell me what you need to when you’re ready,” he said. It was an order.

“Maybe. I don’t know when I’ll be ready. But I’m fine. Just working on a few more projects.”

I hadn’t meant to say that last part since work was a touchy subject, but my father didn’t wince. He didn’t glower. Instead, he sucked in a sharp breath, nodded, and then stuck his hands into his jeans’ pockets.

Jeans, as if he weren’t coming to work in the office. I hadn’t seen my father since the blowup, and I wasn’t sure what to say now. Or if I should say anything.

“I wanted to say that I was proud of you and that I know I’m done. I’m officially retired. I came into the office to tell all of you that. And then we heard you crying, and now I want to know if I have to beat someone up.”

I just blinked at him, trying to keep up. “I’m fine, Dad. Really. But are you?” I asked as I moved towards him. I stood in front of him, a bit hesitant, but he held out his arms. I wrapped my arms around his waist and sank into his hold, feeling like this was my father again, even if I wasn’t sure what had changed exactly.

“I’m okay. I was stuck on an idea that I needed to be the one in charge, and I screwed up. I have a lot of atonement to do—a lot of things to work through, especially with Beckett…and Archer. And I will. But I wanted to let you know that I love you. I’m proud of you. And I trust you. And I’m sorry I was an asshole.”

That made me laugh, and I looked up at him. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” I said, and he narrowed his eyes at me.

“I can call myself an asshole, young lady. You watch your mouth.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

“Now, does this have something to do with that Jacob Queen? Do we have to teach him a lesson?”

I groaned. “No, everything’s fine. Now don’t ruin this special moment.”

“I don’t know. He may have to realize what happens when he messes with the Montgomerys.” He paused. “Any Montgomery.”

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes again, and I hugged him close, trying to pretend that everything was fine. That I wasn’t still shattered inside. But this…thiswas one moment. One breath that was a little better. Maybe everything would be okay.

By the endof the day, I was exhausted but a little happier. Maybe I was broken inside and felt like I had lost a chance at something promising, but things were looking up. Work was good, family was good, life could be good.

I just needed to find a way to make that work without Jacob.

I was the last one out, as everyone else was either at project sites or done for the day. I had a couple of more hours left on a project, but I wanted to do it at home where I could be comfortable and put my feet up. That was the joy of working for my own business.

I was just about to get into my car when I heard the sound of screeching tires. I looked up to see a small sedan coming straight at me. My eyes widened as I saw a woman with a manic expression on her face, her hands on the steering wheel. At least that’s what I thought I saw. I was too busy trying to get out of the way. I couldn’t move forward, so I had to jump to the side. I fell to the ground, the car smashing into mine with the loud sound of twisting metal and the smell of smoking rubber. My head hit the pavement, and I bit my lip, blood pouring. I groaned, clutching my head as I tried to crawl away. Had the woman’s brakes gone out? Had she missed the lane?

It couldn’t have been on purpose.

“Damn it,” a very familiar deep voice said from beside me. I looked up and frowned, seeing double, wondering if I was imagining things.

“Hotch?”

My neighbor sighed and bent down in front of me. “She wasn’t supposed to hit you. She was only supposed to pick you up and bring you to me. But it seems I was right in coming to make sure she did it right. It looks like I should’ve done it myself. But she seemed a little dramatic. What can I say?”

I knew I had to be imagining things. It had to be a concussion. I couldn’t understand it.

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