Page 93 of The Downside of Love
I lean in again and say, “You’ll just have to wait and—”
“Stryder.”
I freeze.
My feet stop moving, my grip on Rory tightens, and a cold chill bursts through my veins.That voice.
Jaw clenched, I turn and come face to face with my father. Instinctively, standing tall, staring into his harsh eyes, I shield Rory from him. Beside him, my mom, wearing a gold dress and her hair twisted up into a knot, holds a glass of wine looking more dazed than I’ve seen her before. Is she even coherent? She barely makes eye contact with me, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she’s too damn ashamed to look me in the eye, or because she’s so dazed on pills and alcohol that she doesn’t even know where she is.
Doesn’t matter to my dad; she’s perfect arm candy for an event like this.
An event I never even considered I would see my dad at.
He hasn’t been to an Air Force Ball in years, calling them a waste of time. So why the fuck is he here tonight?
“Dad,” I say. My girl squeezes my hand, letting me know she’s here for me. “Didn’t think you would be here tonight.”
Stuffing a hand into his pocket, the other wraps around my mom’s waist, and he says, “Thought I would treat your mother to a special night out. Also heard that one of my sons would be attending. Since you’re the only onenotflying a plane right now, I knew it would be you. Wanted to make sure you didn’t embarrass the family name any more than you already have.”
I run my tongue along my teeth, trying to hold back the anger starting to simmer deep within me. Didn’t even last a minute without throwing a dig. Why am I not surprised?
Leaning to the side, my father eyes Rory and says, “Who did you bring with you tonight?”
I’m about to say that who I brought was none of his concern when Rory scoots from behind me and holds out her hand. “Rory Oaks, sir. It’s nice to meet you.”
I grind the back of my teeth together as my father takes Rory’s hand in his and eyes her up and down, assessing her, his eyes stuttering when they scan over her breasts. An overwhelming rage takes over me, and my fists clench to my sides as my chest puffs, ready to explode.
“Rory, pleasure.” My dad doesn’t even offer my mom the decency to introduce her. “Are you friends, or did my son pay you to come with him tonight?”
Putting on a good face, Rory shakes her head. “I’m his girlfriend.”
Still assessing her, my father’s head tilts to the side, and I see the moment familiarity passes through his eyes. And fuck if he didn’t just recognize Rory. She was at the pool house many times visiting Colby when they dated. I’m sure he saw her with Colby.
“Girlfriend. Did I hear that right?”
“We should go.” I start to direct Rory in the opposite direction when my dad presses a hand to my chest stopping me. Not wanting to make a scene, I halt in my effort to leave.
“Not so fast.” Stepping in even closer, he gives Rory one more once-over. “I’ve seen you before, but not with my son. You were with Colby Brooks, weren’t you?”
Her eyes dart to mine, begging for help. I watch her shrink on the spot, and I’ve never wanted to take down my dad so badly in my entire life. Pick on me, but don’t fucking pick on Rory.
“We’re leaving.”
My dad pauses me again, edging his head forward to get a good look at me. “I’m right. She was dating your best friend.”
I drag my hand over my face and grit my teeth. “It doesn’t fucking matter. Unless you want a scene at the Air Force Ball, I suggest you drop your hand. . . now.”
It’s never that simple with my father. A maniacal laugh pops out of him when he says, “I outrank you. Lay a finger on me in front of all these officers. I fucking dare you.”
Goddamn it. He’s right. There is no way in hell I could get away with taking out a Lieutenant Colonel.
Trying to “reason” with my dad, I say, “She has nothing to do with our shared animosity, so leave her out of this.”
“But she seems to have a lot to do with the animosity you have toward your best friend.”
“What?” From behind, I feel Rory grip my sides protectively.
Stepping in even closer, my father unnecessarily adjusts one of the ribbons on my chest, snorting at the lack of wings, I’m sure. He dusts off my shoulder and then hisses through his teeth, “You couldn’t stand to see your best friend go to flight school without you. I saw the way you looked at him when he was accepted and you weren’t. With hatred and jealousy.”
