Page 65 of Pinky Promises

“We’ll make sure she’s okay,” Asher says with a hand on my shoulder as he passes. I nod a thank-you. They eventually meet the girls by the SUV, and I watch them pull off without a beep, leaving the property.

I place my linked hands on top of my head, pacing back and forth.

“Callum?” A soft voice calls from behind. It’s not Brynn calling me that name, so whoever it is, they’re about to get an earful.

“What,” I roar and spin to find Blair startled by my abrasiveness.

“Look, I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I’m just…” I tug on the strands of my hair and sigh heavily.

Blair looks nervous in front of me, innocent and just a pawn caught in my father’s ways to further control me. But I refuse to let him control me any longer. I may have just lost the best thing that ever happened to me. Before I can go and try to salvage what’s left of my relationship, I need to deal with my father—this ends now.

“Blair, will you excuse me.”

I brush past her. Her delicate fingers grip my bicep, and she glances over her shoulder. “This isn’t going to happen, is it.” It’s not a question but more of a statement.

Removing her hand from my arm, I drop it by her side. “No, it’s not.”

Blair wraps her arms around her waist and slowly backs away from me. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

I clasp my hands together on the top of my head and exhale. I glance back to the driveway, where she has long since exited. “Yeah, she’s my everything.”

Blair wipes a tear from her eyes.Great, two girls I’ve made cry tonight. You’re on a roll, Murphy.

“Look, Blair, I’m sure you’re great and all, and I hope that you find a guy that loves you and wants to marry you, but that guy’s not me.”

“Yeah, me too. Well, I hope she’s worth it.”

She is one hundred percent worth it. I just hope to get the chance to prove that to her, to get her to forgive me.

I reenter the house in search of my father. I find him by the front bar—shocker—schmoozing another future client, I’m sure.

“Ah, Callum, there you are. I’ve been looking for you,” my father says as I approach.Yeah, I’m sure he’s been looking for me. I’m not in that bottle of scotch, just in the same place I was since I ran out of the party, to begin with.I’m not in the mood for his small talk, though.

“What the fuck. You said you’d find another way.” I clench my fist so tight in my pants pocket to keep from slamming it into my father’s face. The sound of bones crunching, while it would be satisfying in the moment, would only cause more issues and prevent me from ending this and getting the hell out of here.

My father lets out a menacing laugh as he brings the glass tumbler to his lips before setting the glass back on the bar top.

“Frederick, you’ll have to excuse my son’s behavior.” He turns to the gentleman standing beside him. “Callum, this is Frederick Windsor, Blair’s father.”

I hate that I’m so well-mannered that even though I’m fuming and demand answers, I’m shaking the man’s hand, but I never once remove my glare from my father.

“Where is my wonderful daughter? I’m surprised not to see her by your side. She’s very much looking forward to your future together.”

The smug smile on his face matches my father’s at the mention of this arrangement; however, the sincerity in his eyes makes me believe he was not privy to the information on how I stand on the matter.

I scoff. “Well, that makes one of us. I would assume that Blair is already on her way home from this hellhole. She seems like a nice girl, so I’m sure she will get over all this very easily.” Frederick tilts his head to the side in confusion. I don’t have time to explain this to him. He’ll figure it out.

I turn my back to the man, now angling my body toward my father. With gritted teeth, I lower my voice. “You said you’d find another way for your deal. What the fuck do you callthat?”

“Callum, you’re making a scene,” he scolds as if I’m a child. That seems to be the norm for us these days—him being a jackass and me making a scene.

“A scene? This is not a scene. What you did earlier? Now that was a scene. But I will gladly—”

“Enough,” he growls, cutting me off. “Excuse us, Frederick.” My father grips my arm and leads me away from the bar.

Once in the hallway, away from prying eyes and ears, I yank my arm from his grasp.

“Start fucking talking. So that whole conversation we had earlier was just all fucking bullshit? You’re a goddamned liar.”

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