Page 84 of Storm Warning
“Two.” The photographer seems oblivious, or maybe he just wants his photo bad enough, but there’s a silent tension in the air as people shift and aim their awkward stares my way.
The woman holding his hand whispers, “Roy, whose Kaylee?”
“No one important,” he replies coolly. Every muscle in my body tenses as I narrow my vision on him, an unfamiliar fury igniting within my chest. I’ve never wanted to hit someone more in my life.
I pull her closer to me on instinct, and she squeezes my hand, leaning her body into mine. I savor her warmth, but it does little to dull how pissed I am. Glancing down at her, I search her eyes to make sure she’s okay. Not a frown or a single tear mar her gorgeous features.
The photographer yells, “Three.”
And while the dipshit next to me tells his woman to look forward, Kaylee remains as poised as she started. She smiles for the camera, just as she’s supposed to, but my focus remains on her. Roy’s comment lingers in the air around us.Fucking idiot. What he doesn’t realize, just yet, is that insulting the love of my life is far more dangerous than any bull.
52
KAYLEE - NOVEMBER 12, 2004
Laughter fillsthe air after the photo is taken as the kids all rush to see the photo their friend took. Funny, when I wished I could have family pictures I sure as fuck didn’t mean present-day mistress, run away daddy, and Rhett to be in it. The arena is saturated with happiness, and yet, all I feel is numb.
No one.
Nothing.
Exactly what I’ve always been to him, I just never heard it out loud.
I thought it would hurt more. Thought it would make me feel more broken or sad, but here in this moment, I feel very little for the stranger who shares my last name. I scan over him, a familiar gaze looking back at me, but the resemblance ends there. At least, as far as I’m concerned.
Wrinkles now cover his tan skin, his once freshly shaven jawline now bears a five o’clock shadow, and if you look hard enough, just past the arrogance that seems to cover his features you can see it.
Hollow.
His words, his opinions, his purpose. He’s a shell of a man. One who I let take over a great deal of my life because I wanted his love. Either of my parent’s love, for that matter.
The redhead on his arm shifts uncomfortably as we stare at one another. She grasps his hand with both of hers, her body slightly behind him, confusion glimmering in her dark eyes and through her body language. She doesn’t know what’s happening and I find something about that funny.
“Do you know each other, Honey?” She repeats her question, this time a little stronger with her tone. It’s not entirely her fault. I’m sure when they met he sprinkled his lies smoothly. Told her stories that made her interested in who he wanted her to see, not who he actually was.
He frowns, a true sign that his charade is exposed. And even through denial, he can’t move forward without planting a seed of doubt that this woman will surely have now that he’s made the stupid mistake of not only acknowledging me, but also saying my name.
I smile, and it’s genuine, because all those years ago he walked past me, made me feel invisible, and then I became that. I didn’t force myself into his space, because I didn’t want to be anywhere I was unwanted ever again. Unlucky for him, I no longer care, nor do I consider anything his. He can get fucked.
“She’s my daughter." His words come out filled with spite, as if it’s my fault he now finds himself here.
Shock beams as her eyes widen. “Daughter?”
“I…” the cool, self-absorbed cowboy who always seemed to have words when a camera was shoved in his direction, now finds himself mute.
“I’m not his daughter,” I cut in. “That’s a title someone gives to someone they wanted. We may share the same DNA, but that’s where our connection stops. I’d rather be run over bya semi than claim this man.” I toss my hand in the air toward him.
He steps forward and away from the redhead as she glances between the two of us in disbelief. Anger glows in his eyes like hot coals.“You better show some respect, Kaylee-girl.”
He outstretches his arm to grab my shoulder, but his hand is quickly forced down by another.
“Touch her and you’ll wish ya did the same.” Anger oozes from Rhett. He’s always been a save the day kind of guy, but this runs deeper. He’s angry, not because this is all unraveling in front of him, but because he can’t stand men like my dad.
My dad huffs, crossing his arms, sizing Rhett up like he’s considering the fight.He’s pathetic.
Extending her hand, the redhead says, “Hi, I’m Jolene.”
Fitting.
