Page 102 of Under Your Scars
My jaw tightens and I have nothing to say. He’s right. This is my fault. Even if Frank Valenti had a part to play in it, Neil targeted Elena because of her connection tome.
“Gears turning in your head?” Elliot asks. “You’re forcing her to stay. Why? What do you have over her?”
“I’m notforcingher to do anything. We talked. She chose to stay on her own.”
“Youtalked,” he parrots back sarcastically. “I’m going to go home with my wife. My daughter is going through a lot, and I don’t want to stress her out any more than necessary. I want you to remove yourself from her life before she comes to Texas for Thanksgiving. In case my phrasing wasn’t clear, that isn’t a request.”
“I’m not breaking up with your daughter, Elliot.”
God,I want to throttle him right now.I want to wring his neck.
I muster up every ounce of self-control I have for Elena’s sake and try to sympathize with him. “I understand that you’re upset about what happened to her and want to take care of her. You’re a loving father and it hurts to see your daughter like this, but I’m not ending things because you’re jealous that I can take care of her, maybe even better than you can. Elena has a big heart. She’s more than capable of loving the both of us.” I take a deep breath. “I’d like us to be friends, Mr. Young.”
Elliot forcefully grabs me by the front of my shirt and pulls me so he’s speaking into my face. I stand quite a bit taller than him, so if he’s trying to be intimidating, it’s not working. He’s angry, practically breathing fire when he spits his next sentence out.
“I’d rather chew glass than be friends with you. I’ll be damned before I let a Reeves tear apart my family again.”
He lets me go, and this time, I grab him, shoving him against the exterior brick of the house. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Elliot chuckles. “It means the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and you remind me so much of Thomas. I wonder if you’ll end up with a bullet in the chest, too.”
My brain short circuits, and nowI’mthe one breathing fire. “Keep my father’s name out of your mouth and get thefuckout of my house.”
CHAPTER 29
THE ANGEL
When Christian and my dad come stomping back into the mansion, they’re both furious. I can see it written all over their faces. Christian’s so mad that as he passes a shelf, he swipes a glass vase and sends it shattering to the floor before disappearing behind a corner without even sparing a look in my direction.
“What did you say to him?” I demand.
My dad ignores my question and then cracks his neck. “Elena, listen to me. You are my only living daughter and your safety and happiness mean everything to me. I love you. I’m going to ask you something and I am begging you to tell me the truth.”
I spare a confused glance at my mom, who looks equally confused. “Okay…”
“Do you want to stay here with him?” he asks. I open my mouth to answer, but he cuts me off. “Don’t tell me what he wants you to say and don’t tell me what I want you to say. Tell me the truth.”
“Yes,” I answer immediately. “Yes, dad. I want to stay.”
He tilts his head back as if to silently pray to God before locking eyes with me again. “If you change your mind, you call me, and I will come get you. No questions asked. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of surgery. Call me and I will save you from him.”
Save me?
I let out a nervous laugh. “Dad, I don’t need saving from Christian.”
The look in my dad’s eyes is a complete contradiction to what I just told him, but he doesn’t say anything. He pulls me into a tight hug which my mother joins.
We say goodbye, and I wave as Gavin takes them to the airport. Something feels so wrong about the past few minutes. I don’t expect Christian to shine much light on the situation either, but I go to find him anyways. He’s in his home office, resting his head in his hands and rubbing his scalp like he has a headache.
“What did he say to you?”
Christian’s head snaps up as if he’s only just realized I’m standing here. That’s very uncharacteristic of him. He’s got almost magical awareness. I don’t think he’s ever been snuck up on in his life.
He doesn’t say anything. I take a seat in the chair opposite him and fold my arms on the table and rest my head on them, staring at him. He’s gone back to being zoned out.
Finally, he runs his fingers through his hair and focuses his eyes on me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” I say quietly as he goes back to his blank stare.
