Page 88 of Hell of a Mess
“She’s my daughter! You fucking sorry-ass son of a bitch!” hesnarled at me.
I nodded. “Yeah, she is. And she’s also a grown woman.”
“I don’t give a fuck how old she is! She has lived a life of hell! Goddamn, Luther, you know more than anyone what she’s suffered. Yet you still took advantage of her!”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”
“You’re carrying your clothes, walking out of the room she’s sleeping in,” he said, pointing at the door. “And don’t tell me that’s not Lace in there because I checked the other rooms to be sure. They’re all empty. Even yours.” He was red in the face; he was so damn worked up.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I explained.
He needed to calm down before he had a damn stroke.
“Not what I’m thinking?” he asked acidly. “What, you didn’t fuck her? I’ve known you for too damn long to believe that bullshit.”
“Okay, well, that part—”
He moved like he was about to take another swing, and I pulled out my gun from under my clothes.
“I said you only get the one hit. And that’s just because she’s your daughter.”
His eyes dropped to my gun, then shot back up at me. “You’re a sick bastard. She’s suffered, and you…you just what, decide that because you found her, it gives you the right to use her and abuse her trust in you?!”
“I’m not using her!” I growled angrily.
“Well, what the hell do you call it?” he demanded.
The door opened behind me, and I closed my eyes and sighed. We’d woken her up. I hadn’t wanted her to see or hear this. Plus, dammit, she needed the rest. I’d been letting her sleep.
“What’s going on?” she asked hesitantly.
I turned back to look at her. Thank God she’d put on the long white bathrobe I kept in the guest bathrooms.
I slipped the gun back under the clothes I was holding. “I’m sorry we woke you.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she reached up and touched the side of my face gently, and then her eyes swung over to Mal. I’d never seen her scowl. Hell, I’d never seen her angry.
“Did you hit him?” she demanded.
Her sharp tone sent my eyebrows shooting up. Yep, definitely never heard her use that tone of voice either.
“Get your things, Lace. We’re going home.”
She crossed her arms, but the defiance in her gaze was making my dick hard. Probably not the best time for that, seeing as Mal was ready to kill me.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m an adult. I am thankful that you want me in your life. But I’m not a child. And Luther has done nothing wrong,” she said, taking a step in front of me like she was going to defend my ass with her tiny, little, cute-as-fuck body.
“You don’t know Luther. I do. He’s not some hero. He’s not a good guy. I want you to have all that was robbed from you.”
She stiffened as if he’d just insulted her. “Don’t talk about him like that! Technically, none of you are good guys. You’re criminals in the eyes of the law. To me, he’s been…he’s been everything I was missing in life. He is every wish I didn’t know to make.”
Fuck, my chest was getting tight again.
Mal let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face in frustration. “Lace, honey, trust me, there is a man out there for you. One who will love you. Luther isn’t that man.”
“You don’t—”
“I’m in love with her,” I said, the words cutting off whatever she had wanted to say in my defense. They were words I’d been ignoring, denying, refusing to believe.
