“I’ve never seen a prettier girl in all my life,” he growls out at me, and I shiver in response. His attention flicks back to Maxx before returning to my face. “No joke, naekkeo,” he says, and then he kisses me with so much passion and want that my knees almost buckle. I miss the brush of his lip piercings, but he’s in ‘Seamus-approved’ Kwang-seon mode tonight. He pulls away with just the slightest kiss of my lip gloss on his pretty mouth.
People are staring at us as a live orchestra performs in one corner, and several massive screens flash with images and quotes about Milk Carton. Chasm pulls back, turning to follow my stare.
Much of the furniture has been cleared out, lending the massive, open space the look of a ballroom. People lounge on chaises carefully arranged in corners or against walls while waiters glide through the crowd with trays of food and glasses of champagne.
Chasm snatches a pair off the next tray, offering the glasses up to me and Maxx.
“Trust me: you’re going to need this,” he warns us, moving to stand beside me as Justin spots us through the crowd. He lifts his own glass in greeting, a casual smile on his lips. To anyone else, I’m sure the gesture seems friendly and inviting. To me, it might as well be an ironclad command that drags my feet across the floor.
My body feels like it’s made of lead as I move toward him, the two boys posted on either side of me like sentries.
“Justin,” I say politely as I approach him, and his smile widens, blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Call me … daddy,” he offers up, and it takes every ounce of strength that I possess to keep my face from falling. I can’t even bear to call Tess, mom. And now this fucker right here wants me to call him … gag … daddy?
“Would dad work?” I offer up with a grin, and I swear to god, his eye twitches.
“Daddy would be preferable,” he purrs, sipping his drink and then pausing as a redheaded man comes up to stand beside him. Ah, right. This is Seamus McKenna, Chasm’s asshole of a dad. He stares at me with amber eyes that are just a shade lighter than his son’s, and then he smiles.
“You look ravishing tonight, Dakota,” Seamus says, the faintest hint of an Irish accent in his words. “You must be so proud, Justin.”
My bio dad beams at me, sipping his drink as he studies me over the rim of his glass, and I fight the urge to kick off these painful heels and start running, skirts in hand. I would run barefoot all night to escape this man, if only Parrish was with me and Maxx and Chasm.
We could run together and never look back.
Instead, I practice another of my signature forced smiles on the pair of them.
“Thank you,” I tell Seamus, proud of myself for keeping my voice so strong. How much does Seamus know about Justin’s exploits? Just the Milk Carton stuff? Or all of it? I can’t tell. “And congratulations, by the way, on the merger between Milk Carton and Fort Humboldt Security.”
Justin laughs, his voice a merry accompaniment to the quiet, refined revelry taking place around us.
“It seems that news has already gotten around,” he tells me with a sharp grin. But he, of course, knew that since he had to have at least heard audio from the confrontation between us and Veronica outside the hedge maze. I had both of my phones in my blazer at the time. “Secrets are usually very well-kept in this town. I’m surprised.”
He doesn’t sound surprised, just bemused.
Seamus’ eyes flick to his son and then back to me again. I’m not looking at Chasm, but I can feel him tense up beside me. I don’t blame him, considering all the stories I’ve heard, the bruises on Chasm’s arms, and the way Maxx reacted when he told me I needed to pretend to be his girlfriend so that Seamus didn’t get the wrong idea about me and Chas.
Justin finishes his champagne and sets it on a waiter’s passing tray, trading it out for a fresh flute. He reaches out with his glass, as if he’s asking me for a toast.
I click my own glass against his, even though I’d rather not. I’d rather not participate in anything with Justin Prior, but that’s not an option right now.
“No matter seeing as we’re making the official announcement tonight,” Justin muses, studying me yet again. His lips curve up in another smile. “Did you hear the news about your brother? Milk Carton has already come through for poor, sweet Tess.”
“I’m sure you’re relieved,” Seamus remarks, lifting his own champagne flute to his lips. “All three of you. Soon enough, we’ll be rescuing that boy; I can feel it in my bones.”
