“You should know me,” Johnny seethed, shoving my father so hard that his back hit the side of the car with a loud bang. “I’m the rugby prick, remember?” Fisting the front of my father’s shirt, Johnny reared his head back and bopped my father in the face. Blood sprayed everywhere and I flinched. “I’m your daughter’s boyfriend,” he continued, shoving my father against the car once more before swinging his fist and connecting with my father’s jaw. “And I’ve beendyingto meet you.”
“Who the hell do you think you are, you little shit?” my father bellowed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “A spoiled private-school prick, that’s who.”
“I’ll tell you who I am,” Johnny snarled, clearly livid, keeping my father pinned to the side of the car. “I’m the one trying to sort through a life’s worth of damage you’ve caused her. You fucked your kids up and you don’t even care. You’re a fucking disease and you deserve to be put down like the dog you are!”
“Please don’t!” Terrified, I hovered near the bonnet of the car, too afraid to move any closer. “Johnny,” I continued to sob over and over as tears dripped down my cheeks. “Please just walkaway.”
“Go back to the car, Shannon!” Johnny commanded.
My father turned to look at me. “Shannon—”
Feeling weak, I staggered backwards, shaking my head as if it could somehow stop him from talking to me.
“Don’t fucking look at her!” Johnny roared, hitting my father again. “You keep your goddamn eyes off her!”
“Johnny, lad,” Gibsie called out as he jogged toward us. “You need to walk away—”
“Back the fuck up, Gibs!” Johnny roared. “I’m not done.”
Holding his hands up, Gibsie nodded and stepped back.
“Hit me back, you fucking coward!” Johnny snarled. “You’re so quick to put your hands on your girls, fucking try it with me! Come on, big man, hit me. See where it’ll get ya!”
“Get out of here before I call the Gards,” my father roared. “You jumped-up prick.”
“And say what to them?” Johnny laughed in his face. “You can’t touch me, you serpent.” He shoved him again. “And your little mind games? Whatever it is you do to get inside her head? It won’t work on me.” He shook his head and sneered. “I’m fucking bulletproof.”
“Johnny,” I choked out. “Please just take me home…”
Johnny shuddered and a furious growl tore through him. “Here’s how this is going to work,” he hissed, releasing his grip on my father’s shirt. “You’re going to get back in your car and drive far away. You’re going to uphold the barring order and you’re going to leave her alone. You’re going to stay far away from your daughter’s house and you’re going to continue ignoring her, and I’m going to continue fixing the holes you’ve put in her. And if you ever touch her again, I’ll know about it. One fucking bruise, I’ll see it and I’ll know who put it there,” he snarled, chest heaving. “And then I’ll come for you, and when I do, God himself won’t save you.” He shoved my father again. “Are we clear, you poisonous piece of shit?”
My father didn’t respond and for a moment I was terrified Johnny wouldn’t walk away, but he did. Turning stiffly, he walked over to where I was cowering and held out his hand. Taking a step forward, I braced myself and placed my hand in his, feeling the commitment he was offering me wrap around my body like ivy. His touch calmed something deep down inside of me, soothing the terror enveloping me from being in my father’s presence again.
“I knew I was right about you, girl!” Dad sneered, brown eyes narrowed on me. “You’re no daughter of mine.”
“Sheisyour daughter, you sick fuck.” Releasing my hand, Johnny spun around and stalked back to where my father was opening the door. “But you’re no father to anyone,” he snarled, throwing one final, unmerciful punch to his jaw that knocked my father to the ground. “See this piece of shit?” Johnny demanded, glaring in the window at the woman screaming in the car. “He abuses women and children, so you should think about running while you still can.”
Having said that, Johnny turned around and closed the space between us. “You hit my dad,” I croaked out, feeling numb, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and steered me toward his car.
“I did,” he bit out, tightening his arm around my shoulders.
“A lot,” I whispered, knotting my fingers in the side of his hoodie.
“He deserved it.”
“He did.”
“Are you okay?”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me either.”
Yanking the passenger door open, Johnny bundled me inside before closing the door and rounding the driver’s side. Climbing inside, he slammed his door shut and pulled on his seat belt, jaw clenched, tension emanating from him.
“Good job, lad,” Gibsie said, climbing into the back seat behind Johnny and patting his shoulder. “I’m proud of you for walking away.”