I squeezed his ass cheeks and slapped him. This was the second time we’d met; the first one at the country club didn’t count. Could I call what was in my heart love?
Yes, I could.
“I think so.” I snuggled against his chest.
Chapter 18
I’ll take an order of answers, please.
Devyn
Leaving Heston last night had been far more difficult than I wanted to admit. Having met my mate, and that he felt the same pull was huge. Knowing that we were going to get married? That almost felt like a dream. And I wasn’t a human who took stock in such arrangements, but with Heston, it felt right. Better than right. It felt impossibly amazing.
I could leave well enough alone. I was getting what I wanted, even if it was because I was a pawn in my father’s game. Why not just accept that I was the winner this time and call it good? Only I couldn’t do that. It kept nagging at the back of my mind. Was I being set up?
Nothing Heston and I could come up with was good enough of a reason to go through something this elaborate. Why not just arrange a hostile takeover like a normal asshat? There had to be something I was missing. I wasn’t going to figure it out staring out the back window, that was for sure. I could either confront my father or use this emotional turmoil to create something magnificent.
I chose the latter.
My half finished painting stared back at me. It was fine. Good, even. But it wasn’t jiving with my current energy. I set it to the side and grabbed a half-finished piece that I pretty much hated. “Looks like I’m taking my frustrations out on you today.”
I was unsure where I was heading with the piece, but that wasn’t the point. I needed to escape into the world of color and texture, to not be hyper focused on the situation at hand, to allow my brain to reset and this would make that possible.
I grabbed my paints and mixed up the various shades of my mom’s eyes. I needed her here. She would know what to do. Brush stroke after brush stroke, I fell more into the zone, until I discovered that I’d managed to paint over the entire piece. It was no longer a half-finished piece I didn’t relate to. Instead, it was a canvas looking back at me, telling me everything would be okay.
From there, I no longer thought. I just connected with the canvas. The piece flowed beautifully, and it wasn’t until hours later, when I stepped back and took a good hard look at what I’d created that I realized that while it was abstract in nature, it was in essence, a portrait of my mother the day she was honest with me about how things went down with my father.
“Be brave and strong,” she had said. “And never be your father.”
And I never had. But maybe… just maybe letting him control me and use me in this way was changing that. Was that why I’d funneled her into my art without realizing it? Probably.
“You’re still here for me, aren’t you, mom?”
After cleaning up my mess and taking a shower, I did what I should’ve done from the very beginning… ask my father for the answers he could have given me in the first place. But maybe ifhe had, I wouldn’t have agreed to it and who knew what Heston would have done? What a mess that would’ve been.
Because I wasn’t about to deal with Roy and the car bullshit, I did what every petty person would and I used a rideshare app. Was it the best move if my goal was to get answers? Nope. Not even close. But neither was showing up unannounced, so I wasn’t sure it made a difference, anyway. Worst-case scenario, I would have to leave on foot and get a ride share down the road if I needed to get out of my father’s house immediately. That I could handle.
I stared at my phone as I waited for the car to show up. Did I want to give my father a heads up? Asking permission would be the equivalent of giving him the power to deny me, and I would not allow that. Not without a fight.
The timing of my arrival was about the time he normally had dinner, which was perfect. It would mean that Roy and Duke were there too, and I had a feeling I could get information out of Duke easier than the rest of them.
I climbed in the car and attempted to come up with a game plan. Every idea that crossed my mind had a major flaw. Barging in was as close as I came to a decent strategy. It would have to do.
“How much to have you stick around?” I asked the driver as he pulled up.
His answer was significantly more than I had, and I thanked him and he went on his way. This was it, do or die time.
Duke had the door open before I reached it. “Why are you here?”
“I need to talk to our father.”
“He’s about to eat dinner. Call him.” Had he been told to get rid of me? If that was their goal, Duke was the last person to send. He might be a jerk, but he knew as well as I did that my wolf could rip his apart. Would I stoop to that? No. But knowing it was possible still had his wolf on edge.
“I could eat.” I brushed past him, ignoring the small growl coming from his chest. Let his wolf be pissed. This wasn’t about Duke. At least I didn’t think it was.
“I don’t think there’s enough.” Duke came up beside me.
“There always is.” That was one thing my father would never let happen.
