Page 60 of I Love to Hate You
“What are you doing?” she asks as she approaches me with a confused look on her face.
“I’m walking you to the door,” I answer nonchalantly.
“But why?” she asks, still frowning hard. “I made it home safely. I’m good.”
I step closer to her and take one of her hands in mine. “Maya, listen to me. I know you and I have had this love-hate relationship since we first met. We argue and fight, we make fun of each other, and we challenge each other constantly, but I don’t think it’s because we really hate one another. I think it’s because we’re so similar that we act the only way we know how. We’re more aggressive than everybody else. We joke in a different way. We find different things funny, and we take certain things more seriously than the people we went to college with. You bleed Kensington, and I have Strawberry Mansion dripping from my pores, and while the rest of the world may not understand us, we understand each other. I see you, Maya, and I love what I see when I look at you—even the parts you may not like yourself. I don’t want to front anymore. I want you to be my girl, and I want to be your man. If things hadn’t gone to shit after we linked up the first time, I would’ve already said all of this, but I’m trying to make up for that now. You and I are the perfect combination. Maybe we should see how magical we can be together.”
The tears in Maya’s eyes never fall, but her smile is gorgeous and I see the joy in her face.
“You’re something else, Kendrick Kennedy,” she says. “And I absolutely agree with everything you just said. I want to be with you, too, and I think you could make me happier than anyone ever has. There’s only one small problem right now.”
“What’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious where this is going. Am I about to get shot down after all that has happened?
“My father,” Maya says. “He’s an asshole. He does things to my head that make functioning difficult for me sometimes, and he’s in the house right now, probably drunk already.”
I reach out and grab Maya’s other hand, cupping them both in mine. “I’m here for you. I want to be with you, to protect you, to cherish you, to have you be mine, and I don’t give a fuck what your father or anybody else has to say about it. I’m going to walk you to the door because you’re my girl, and I want to make sure you get inside safely. I’m not worried about anything else. Okay?”
She pinches her lips together and lets out a long sigh as anxiety takes hold of her face.
“Okay,” she says, finally agreeing before turning around and leading me up the walkway.
I can feel the angst emanating off of her as we approach the house. She doesn’t say anything, and her eyes stay focused on the ground all the way until we reach the front door. She fiddles with her keys until she finds the right one, and the second she pushes it into the keyhole, the door swings open, startling both of us.
Angry blue eyes peer out of the entryway, and the smell of old beer wafts out of the room as a dry old man an inch or two shorter than me stands there without speaking a word.
Maya swallows hard as she looks up at him, her confidence evaporating in an instant. “Hi, Dad.”
Thirty-Eight
~ KENDRICK~
His skin is like the hide of a rhino, with deep wrinkles that make him look like he has spent time on a planet with more gravity than Earth. It makes sense, because I know he has been weighed down by the death of his wife nine years ago. His eyes are the only thing about him that look alive, as they sparkle with vibrant blue, while the rest of him is cast in a gray shadow. His hair is disheveled, matching perfectly with his wrinkled clothes that look like they were slept in the past few nights in a row, and the smell of alcohol is robust, creating a fog every time he exhales.
I don't know this man, but I’ve listened to Maya talk about him, and it only takes a second of being in his presence to know that everything she told me about him is true. I can see the anger bristling in his eyes and the sourness of his mood etched in his body language as he stands in front of the door with his hand on the knob for balance. It’s just past nine o’clock in the morning, and it’s quite clear he has already consumed enough alcohol recently for it to take effect on his body. This is the man who weighs Maya down, holding her happiness hostage over the past nine plus years while he drowns himself in sorrow. We’re meeting for the first time, and I have no idea how I’m going to get along with him.
“Where have you been?” he asks Maya before shifting his icy eyes back over to me.
I immediately pick up on the fact that he didn’t mention the scratches on her face, the bruising on her chest, or the blood and grime on her dress. It’s clear that Maya has been attacked, but he’s not concerned for her safety, he’s just mad.
“I had to stay at Kendrick’s last night,” she answers softly, motioning toward me with her head. “I got into some trouble at the club, and he had to take care of me.”
“Some trouble,” he snips as his eyes glide down, inspecting her outfit and showing the disgust on his face. He looks back over to me a second time but still doesn't speak to me. “Looks like that dress did what I said it would, didn’t it? Maybe you should've listened to me instead of going out to a club looking like common street trash.”
My eyes widen. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, and who are you?” he says, finally addressing me with bravado fueled by the booze running rampant in his system.
Maya grabs me by the hand as she steps forward and addresses her father before I can. “Dad, this is Kendrick. He’s the one who took care of me last night after I was jumped by two men outside the club. He intervened and fought them off for me. He saved my life. Kendrick, this is my father, Jack Valentina.”
The two of us glare at each other, and while I don't know where his hatred for me stems from, I can feel it like the sun on my face. Maybe it’s because he’s just so angry at the world that he can’t help but be mad at a stranger who saved and protected his daughter when he was nowhere to be found. Truthfully, I don't give a fuck about his motivations. All I know is that last night changed things for Maya and me, and Jack Valentina is nothing more than the man who treats my woman like shit. Maya hasn’t asked me to try to force a relationship with her father, so I won’t. I’ll continue to be Maya’s protector—her superhero in the face of danger and mistreatment as long as I'm able, and there are no exceptions to who I’ll protect her from.
I don't extend my hand for him to shake, and neither does Jack. We just stare at each other like two lions ready to fight over territory until Maya clears her throat.
“Don't you think you should at least thank him, Dad?” Maya questions.
Jack scoffs. “Thank him for what?”
“For keeping two men from beating the shit out of your daughter last night,” she snips.
