Page 114 of Broken Grump

They nod and listen closely.

“Good. I want you to promise me that if I ever—and I meanever—act like the worthless piece of shit that our father was towards my little girl . . .” It feels so good to call her that. “You won’t hesitate for a moment to beat the absolute shit out of me.”

Silence falls upon them after that.

“Yo, guys! I’m serious. Noah, you of all people should understand where I’m coming from.”

When he finally looks up at me, there’s an intensity in his eyes. “You have my word, Brother. If I ever hear you yelling or threatening to hurt her,” the mere suggestion makes my skin feel prickly with rage, “I’ll personally lay you flat on your ass. Okay?”

“Gentlemen?” I know my brother would do a fair job on his own, but it won’t be enough. The punishment would require all of them throwing hands.

“You got it,” Gabe pipes up.

“Me too,” Victor agrees.

And then there’s Denton. Our prized sensitive soul. “Den? Come on?”

“I—”

“Den,” I persist. “All I need is your word that you’ll throw one swing right here.” I press my finger against my cheek.

“Fine. Yes. Yes, I’ll do that.”

“Thank you.”

“Can we get a few practice shots in now?” Noah jokes, breaking the ice around us.

I laugh but tease back, “You can try. But since I haven’t done anything wrong, I get to fight back.”

With that, he cowers back in his seat.

Chapter thirty-two

Hayden

It was all funand games back at the bar, but the severity of our conversation came crashing down on my shoulders after calling and taking an Uber back to my house.

As for my car, I knew I’d get a fine of some sort for leaving it in the country club’s parking lot. But any amount of money was better than getting an “Operating while Intoxicated” and already failing to be a parent on that front.

I’m a parent. I’m a freaking parent.The thoughts played in a circular fashion in my mind. I don’t know the first thing about being a parent. For one thing, I never had a great example of how to be a father.So, how will I know how to be one?

However, I also reason that at the same time, that I’ve done anokayjob so far, discounting the time I freaked out on her overthe spilled desert. Other than that, I’ve been able to bond with her just fine.

Ugh.My brain aches as it churns through all the questions. But on the top of my list is:Am I too afraid to even try?

I could never live with myself if I broke Luna’s little, fragile heart. However, in the same breath,nottrying would probably also disappoint her.

I curse my poorly thought-out decisions and intoxicated state as I enter the shower and crank the lever all the way to max.

But even the scalding water doesn’t help. I’m still jittery as fuck. Furthermore, it also brings about memories of the burning lashes my father used to inflict upon me when I gave him a “dirty look.”

“Fuck!” My wounded mind feels more tortured than ever.

You’d never do that to Luna, Hayden.I remind myself while in the fetal position on my bathroom floor.You’d never, ever strike her flesh or inflict those wounds. Of course, not.Picturing her tormented screams makes me want to puke, and I realize just how evil my father was for being able to stomach it when he actually hurt me.

Then, something else hits me—if you can’t beat them, join them. In this sense, I mean pouring myself a nice glass of whiskey. So, I get up, compose myself to the best of my ability, finish my shower, and head downstairs to the kitchen.

I take one sip before the phone on the counter rings.

---