Page 85 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

“What do you want?”

His hands dropped to his sides at her cold question. “I want to know why you’re doing this. Did your father finally get to you, or—”

“Were you going to tell me that my father stopped by after we got back from True Love to convince your dad to warn you off?”

He paused, opening his mouth, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Yeah, your father told me. I thought you were all about honesty, but you kept something huge

from me and your father almost lost everything, including his freedom.”

“He told me to hell with your father and—”

“Of course he did, Justin, because despite his problems, your dad is a good man who loves you. He wants you to be happy. Did you know about the crops he burned down?” He remained silent, and she continued, “My dad had photos of him setting fire to them and was threatening to turn Fred in for insurance fraud. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was in the past, and it wasn’t about them. Remember? Just you and me?”

“I think it’s selfish of you to risk your family over a relationship based on really hot sex.”

“There’s more to this than that. I—”

“Okay, so it’s more amazing than hot, but this is never going to go anywhere. You’re meant to marry and have two-point-five kids, and I’m supposed to stick with my own pedigree. We just need to face facts and move on.”

“I don’t believe for a second you think that. I know you feel more for me than just lust, Val.”

He didn’t miss the sheen of tears in her eyes before she turned her face away and went inside. A few seconds later, she returned and handed him a manila envelope.

“Here’s all the evidence against your dad,” she whispered, walking back behind the door. “Please leave me alone.”

She shut the door with a loud final thud, and Justin numbly walked back to his truck, trying to fight the emptiness taking over.

Leave me alone.

It was over. He was done. He wasn’t going to beg and chase her like a lovesick fool anymore.

Getting into his truck, he threw the envelope across the seat and headed back to the farm, rage boiling inside him. Inside the farmhouse, he found his dad coming out of the kitchen, Everett right behind him.

“Justin, what—”

Justin reached out for the bottle of whiskey on the armoire and threw it against the wall, shattering it.

“I have cleaned up your puke and picked you up every time you’ve been too drunk to drive. I spent my adolescence taking care of you. Because of that.” He pointed to the shattered glass.

When his dad said nothing, Everett came forward. “Just, hey, what’s going on?”

“I’m still paying for your choices and mistakes and I’m sick of it.” Tearing past them into the kitchen, he started pulling everything out of the cupboards, shaking off his brother’s hands until he found the second bottle, the one Fred kept in a saltines tin.

“How many more do you have around the house, Dad? Huh?” Twisting off the cap, he dumped the Jack Daniel’s down the kitchen sink. “I am going to go through every fucking nook and cranny until I find every bottle. If I can’t have what I want, neither can you.”

Justin set the bottle in the sink, breathing hard. This time when Everett’s hand landed on his shoulder, he didn’t move, just sniffed back the tears he’d been fighting.

“I’m sorry, son.”

Justin wiped at his eyes and let out a bitter chuckle. “You’re sorry.”

“I am. You’re right. This is my fault, and I’d do anything to make it right.”

Justin turned around and shook his head. “Val got all the evidence Willis had against you. It’s out in my truck. Congratulations.”

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