Page 73 of Rush
"It's not like that," I say.
"Then what's it like?"
"It's just someone doing their job, making sure I'm safe."
"By stalking you?"
"He's not stalking me."
"Then what is he doing?"
I don't answer because I don't know what to say. How do I explain Rush to my dad without making it worse?
"Who is it?" Diesel asks, and his voice is dangerously calm.
"Does it matter?"
"It matters to me. Who is it?"
"I'm not telling you."
"Everly—"
"No, I'm serious. You don't get to interrogate me about who I'm spending time with. I'm twenty-four years old.
"You're my daughter."
"That doesn't give you the right to control my life."
"I'm not trying to control your life. I'm trying to keep you safe."
"I am safe. I've been safe this whole time."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. And I'm tired of this overprotective bullshit."
There's a long silence and I know I've crossed a line, know I shouldn't have said that.
But I'm not taking it back.
"Watch your mouth," he says finally.
"Or what?"
"Or I'm getting on a plane to Dublin and we're having this conversation in person."
The threat lands and I know he means it. My dad doesn't bluff.
"Don't," I say. "I'm fine, I promise."
"Then tell me who it is."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because Pyro says it's one of his guys and I want to know which one thinks he has permission to watch my daughter like that."
I glance at Rush. He's pale, his jaw is tight, and his hands are clenched.
