Page 17 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

“Now, Valerie—”

“Just because someone doesn’t sit on their ass all day pushing papers, afraid to get their hands dirty, doesn’t make them trash.”

“Watch your tone with me, Valerie. All that paper pushing and ass sitting gave you a good life, a great education, and the trust fund you’re currently using to stay afloat,” he said.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Val tried everything she could think of not to yell at the man. What was it about him that could turn her into an angry teenager again in the blink of an eye? “Look, Dad, I’m watching out for Ellie and I’ll talk to her. Why don’t you take a little trip out of town and relax? When’s the last time you had a vacation?”

“Speaking of a vacation, have you thought any more about that matchmaking event?”

“No, I haven’t, because I have no interest in meeting anyone new,” she said, congratulating herself on not snapping. “Besides, what’s the deal with this place? Have they offered to donate to your campaign or something?”

“I already told you. It would be good for you to get out and meet the right kind of people,” he said, sounding nearly sincere. “And having you there, participating and asking questions, will get you noticed, which will, in turn, help turn people toward me and my political aspirations.”

“If you’ll try to remember, I spent most of my life in the spotlight, and I’m enjoying the quiet,” she said.

“You’re just being stubborn. If you would just stop fighting against me, you’d see that this is a great opportunity for both of us,” he said calmly, like she was still ten and wanted to play with her friends instead of going to a function with him. “Honestly, Valerie, when did you become so selfish?”

Val clenched the phone in her fist and gritted her teeth, wanting to scream. Selfish? Had it been selfish of her to skip her spring formal to go with him to some fund-raiser only to have that bastard, Kyle Jenner, try to grope her by the dessert table?

She wasn’t going to scream, though, and let him tell her she was having a hissy fit again.

“Hanging up now, Dad.”

Val hung up the phone, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. Instead, she set it calmly on her desk before making her way back to the kitchen for more coffee, applauding her maturity.

Sure, hanging up on someone is real mature.

Val made a face at the internal reprimand, but her father deserved only so much tolerance and respect. Edward Willis was a bigoted, superior asshole, but he had also made sure she had the best of everything.

Except the best of him and his attention.

Oh, he’d given her attention, all right, but it had all been the wrong kind. He had never bothered with her unless he needed something or she’d done something to embarrass him.

Like when she’d gotten her sleeve tattoo—an intricate design of bright flowers with her mother’s name and a favorite quote written within—he’d taken one look at her in a sleeveless dress and had a meltdown. He had wanted her to be his date for a dinner with Senator Jenner and his son, Kyle, but the minute he’d ordered her to change into a long-sleeved dress, she’d told him to go screw himself. Once he’d threatened to cut her off, she’d backed down, though. She had learned to pick her battles with her father.

But after her divorce and her twenty-fifth birthday, she didn’t have to worry about losing her trust fund anymore. With financial freedom, she didn’t have to take his shit if she didn’t want to. She’d done enough to please him; it was time to live her own life.

“Is there any more cof

fee?” a raspy voice asked from the kitchen doorway.

Val turned to her sister with a raised eyebrow. Ellie’s makeup was smeared, the black from her eyeliner and mascara giving her raccoon eyes, and she grimaced. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Val asked, pulling another mug from the cupboard to hand to her.

“Don’t lecture me until I’ve had at least one cup.”

Val poured the coffee and handed it to Ellie. “I don’t need to lecture you. You’re a grown woman who obviously knows her limits. Who understands that when she gets so drunk that she can’t even function, she leaves herself open to horrible things like rape and being dissolved in a bathtub of acid by a murdering psycho—”

“Jesus, morbid much?” Ellie snapped, setting her cup of coffee on the counter. “Look, if you don’t want me here, I can stay at Ruth’s or something.”

Val counted kittens in her head, hoping the cuteness would calm her down enough to reason with Ellie.

“Ruth? You mean one of the friends who should have been looking out for you last night? Where was she when you got so fucking plastered you couldn’t even walk?” Val asked angrily, waiting for Ellie to say something, but she was silent. She could tell from the frown on her sister’s face that she’d struck a nerve, but damn it, she needed to think about this. If the girls she went out with weren’t watching her back, bad things were going to happen.

Val didn’t want her sister to learn about those consequences firsthand.

Stepping to Ellie’s side, she wrapped her arm around her waist and squeezed. “You’re always welcome here, but you have got to grow up, sis. The next guy who drives you home might not be such a gentleman.”

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