Page 58 of Hell of a Mess
Lace
“My house isn’t as big as this one, but it’s a nice size. Plenty room for you to have your own space. The entire third floor can be yours,” Mal said as he sat across from me on the patio, looking more relaxed than I felt.
I didn’t want to leave here—or rather Luther.
Dropping my gaze, I studied my cast as I fidgeted with my nails nervously. How did I tell Mal no? He wanted to get to know me. He wanted me in his home. I’d never had a father who wanted me. The one I’d had for twenty-nine years hated me and used me. This was something I’d once dreamed of as a child. Being wanted. But I wasn’t a child anymore. I hadn’t been for a very long time. My childhood had ended the day my mother drowned.
“I’m not trying to pressure you,” he said when I remained silent. “If you want to take more time before making that decision, I understand. Luther isn’t the easiest person to bearound for long periods of time.”
My eyes shot back up to look at him, and the need to defend Luther had me opening my mouth to do so when the door to the house opened. Luther came sauntering out with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in his hand and Maui hot on his heels. He was in jeans that hung on his hips, a black T-shirt that fit tight across his shoulders, and he was barefoot. His gaze went to Mal, and he smirked before looking over at me.
“The conversation looked a little slow out here. Thought I’d come liven things up,” he drawled in that deep voice of his that made my entire body buzz.
“It wasn’t, and your assistance isn’t required,” Mal replied in a tone that made it obvious he was annoyed.
I didn’t want him to send Luther away. But what did I say to stop it?
“Eh,” Luther said with a shrug and continued over to the empty seat to my left. “I’m always required.”
Mal’s narrowed gaze watched him as Luther sat down.
Leaning back, Luther looked at me. “Has he convinced you to move to his place yet?”
I watched as he pulled a lighter from his pocket and held the flame up to the tip of the cigarette in his mouth.
“Um,” I replied, then glanced over at Mal, who was still glaring at Luther. “I, uh…I’m not sure I’m ready to do that.”
Luther inhaled, then took the cigarette from his mouth and turned his attention to Mal. “Told you she wasn’t ready. Happy now?”
“This isn’t your business, Luther.” His response was heated.
Luther didn’t seem at all fazed by it though. He appeared more amused than anything. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I found her. Brought her here and pissed off Linc. Got her help. I think that makes it my business.”
“Helping her doesn’t make her yours to control,” Mal shot back at him.
Luther cut his gaze at me. “Am I controlling you, sugar?”
I shook my head. “No. Not at all.”
Luther’s pleased smile only made my flutters worse. “See,” he said, turning back to Mal. “She’s happy here for now. Let the girl breathe.”
“She’s my daughter!” Mal raised his voice this time, making me jump.
“Go inside, Lace.” Luther’s body still appeared to be relaxed, but the tone of his voice said otherwise.
I stood up, not sure if I should leave. I’d caused this.
Maui came running back onto the patio from wherever he’d been exploring in the yard and stared up at me with bright eyes.
“Jayda is in the kitchen,” Luther told me. “I smelled baked goods.”
I nodded, understanding the suggestion that I go to the kitchen with Jayda.
Attempting to give Mal a smile I didn’t feel, I didn’t wait for him to stop me and make this even more awkward than it was.
“You don’t call that controlling?” Mal snarled at Luther.
“No. I call it getting her away from your angry ass. You scared her.”
