Page 97 of The Scars I Bare
My brain circles back to that once more, and it gives me a small glimmer of hope. But I’ve felt something like that before when it came to Cora.
Can I trust it once more?
The whole scene was something out of my worst nightmare.
Cora near tears, so on edge, she bolted out of her own daughter’s birthday party. And Lizzie? Lizzie just stood there, torn between running after her distraught mother or falling into the arms of her father.
I could see the indecision on her adorable little face as her eyes drifted down the hall and back toward her dad.
Finally, with one final, apologetic glance toward the man who frankly didn’t deserve any of it, she made up her mind and bolted for the family rooms in the back, toward Cora.
Leaving Blake and me alone.
Well, as alone as two men could be in a house full of people.Let the sizing-up and heavy stares begin.
His eyes went directly to my right side, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “And you are?”
Feeling my fist curl at my side, I did everything I could to keep it from meeting his face. “Dean. A name you’ll be hearing a lot of, I’m sure.”
“Well, Dean.” He said my name like he’d never heard it before. Like it was foul or foreign. Beneath him.
Don’t give in.
He’s just messing with you.
“Do you think you could show me to my room? I have some gifts in my bag I’d like to pull out for my daughter.”
The emphasis on the worddaughterwas not lost on me.
I violently shook my head. “You’re not staying here,” I said. “You can’t.”
“Excuse me?” His eyebrow rose in a way that told me he was used to getting his way. “I paid for a room.”
“Jesus. You’re the one guest Molly has tonight?”
“Look,” he said, clearly agitated, a state I was sure he was in most of his life, “I don’t know who Molly is, but the deal is, I paid for a room in this place, and I intend to stay. I haven’t seen my daughter in well over a month, and despite what Cora might have told you, I do love that little girl, so if you don’t mind, I’d like my room, please.”
Somehow, in the course of his little speech, I’d managed to get closer to him, his face within inches of mine. That fist that seemed to have a mind of its own was beginning to vibrate, a sensation I’d felt only one other time in my life when Macon Green, the school bully turned town cop, called Molly a string bean, and I punched him.
Honestly, I hadn’t even known what the term meant. I just didn’t like him making fun of my friend. It had made me angry. But the anger I felt toward this very grown-up man, the man who’d abused the woman I loved, it was a hundred times greater than that.
Immeasurable.
“Dean?” I heard Jake’s deep voice pull me back. “Everything okay?”
My heard turned to see him and Molly standing in the entryway to the kitchen, both looking concerned.
Well, Molly looked concerned. Jake looked ready to wrestle me to the floor.
“Yeah,” I answered, my steely gaze returning to Blake. “But it turns out that Blake here might need some new accommodations,” I said loud enough for the entire room to hear. “He’s partial to a rental. Anyone want to help him out with that?”
It was like waving honey in front of a bear.
The locals attacked.
Many of the rentals on Ocracoke were owned by the inhabitants themselves. It was a surefire way to make money, and we were all about keeping that local. But this was the beginning of dry season, and the minute those townsfolk turned around and saw a wealthy-looking dumbass like Blake standing there, basically waving around money with his expensive suitcase and designer clothes, they all rushed forward, offering up every place they had.
I sat back, smiling like a Cheshire cat, knowing Lizzie and Cora would be safe for the night without having to worry about him in the bedroom above theirs.
