Page 53 of Keeping Kaitlyn

Stepping out of the car, Kait’s hand still in mine, I have a clear view of the living room. Her father is sitting in an upholstered chair facing the foyer. Her mother is perched on the edge of the sofa, hands folded neatly in her lap, an untouched service tray with coffee and pastries between them. As soon as he sees us, Tom shoots to his feet.

“I don’t know what the two of you have been doing for the past week,” he says, even though the look on his face tells me he has a pretty good idea. “But it’s over. Get whatever stuff you came here with and meet me downstairs. Come on, Hilly.” Motioning for his wife to stand, he starts to move toward uslike he has every intention of leaving and every confidence that his daughter’s rebellion ended the second she saw him. “You’ve got?—”

“I’m not leaving,” Kait says, her tone cool and direct, hand still in mine.

“The hell you’re not,” her father roars, the anger in his tone tightening Kait’s fingers around mine. “I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at but you’ve got about thirty-seconds before I?—”

Letting go of Kait’s hand, I step in front of her. Her father’s a big man—not as big as me but big enough to give most men pause. I don’t even blink. Glaring down at him, I feel my mouth twist into a cold smile. “Before youwhat?”

Glaring back at me, his gaze rakes over my tattoos, lip curled in disgust. “Your father must berealproud of you.”

“No—he really isn’t.” I push a smirk onto my face to cover up the fact that saying it out loud hurts more than I’d like to admit. “Before youwhat?”

Something flickers across his face, a realization that this isn’t going to be as easy as storming in here and barking orders at his wayward daughter. He thought I let Kait tag along when I left out of boredom. That I was just having fun and that I’d hold up my hands and sayit’s none of my businesswhen he started in on her, just like everybody else. It never occurred to him that I might actually care enough about her to put myself between them. “I opened my home to you and this is how you repay me?”

“No…” Shaking my head, I let out a humorless chuckle. “I repaid you with a wire transfer of four-hundred-thousand dollars,” I remind him quietly. “And you still haven’t answered my questions—before youwhat?”

“It’s okay, Went.” Stepping out from behind me, Kait places a hand on my arm. “My father’s never touched me. Not once. Not a slap. Not a hug—nothing. He can barely bring himself to talkto me. I don’t see him starting now.” Dropping her hand, she shakes her head. “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to marry Brock. Never asked me what I thought or how I felt. You justdecidedand that was that.”

“That’s right,” Tom hisses, as mean as a snake. “I decided. After what you’ve done to me and this family, marrying someone suitable and giving me a grandson is the least you can do.”

Kait flinches when he says it and it takes everything I have not to pick him up and throw him through the fucking window.

“Well, then I guess I held up my end of things after all,” Kait says, holding up her hand to show him the ring I put on her finger. “I already married someone who’s a damn sight moresuitablethan Brock Morris will ever be.”

When he sees the ring, Tom’s face goes bone white before flushing a dangerous shade of purple. Mouth open to start sputtering curses, Kait cuts him off before he has a chance. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m a grown woman, Dad—a grownmarriedwoman and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Dropping her hand, Kait shakes her head. “As for Brock… there are plenty of idiots in Barrett who would jump at the chance to marry him. I’m sure he'll be just fine.”

Ignoring his daughter’s declaration, Tom turns on me with another nasty look. “You think I don’t know what you’ve done?” he says with another disgusted glare. “Iknow—and if you don’t give her back, I’m going to call every news outlet I can think of and tell them exactly where you are and what you’ve been doing while that man you almost killed?—”

“Give her back?” I shake my head like I can’t believe I’m hearing him right. “She’s not something you own, Mr. Barrett. Kait isn’t a saddle or a horse trailer. She’s a person.” Lifting my hand, I cock my head and rub the tip of my index finger against my temple. “And before you call anyone, I’d take a long, hard look at that NDA you and your wife signed. If you so much as saymy name in public, my attorney will destroy you—” Dropping my hand, I nail him with a cold, hard look. “and trust me when I tell you that destroying self-important, overblown assholes is his favorite thing to do.”

“Tom,” Kait’s mother steps away from the couch with a soft sigh. “Kaity’s made her choice. I think maybe we should?—”

“Do you think he loves you? Is that what he told you?” Defeated and he knows it, Kait’s father means to cause as much pain as possible on the way out. “He doesn’t love you. Hecan’tlove you. No one can.”

Wrapping my arms around Kait’s waist, I pull her close, anchoring her to my side. She’s shaking like a leaf. “Mrs. Barrett, I suggest you find a way to get your husband to leave that doesn’t involve me throwing him off the roof of this fucking building.”

She must hear it in my tone, how serious I am, because she takes a panicked step forward when I say it. “Tom?—”

“It should’ve been you.” He snarls it at Kait, mouth twisted into an ugly sneer and I tighten my hold on her to keep myself from reaching out and snapping his neck. Before either of us can respond, Tom pushes his way past us and heads for the elevator, his wife scuddling along behind him.

Turning, Kait still tucked into my side, we watch while her parents step onto the elevator and her father jabs an angry finger at the button that will take them to the lobby. “Don’t worry, Mr. Barrett.” Unwilling to let him have the last word, I lift a hand and smile. “We’ll keep working on giving you a grandkid—not that you’ll ever meet them.”

The elevator doors slide closed before he can respond.

As soon as he disappears, I pick Kait up and carry her to the bedroom while she shakes and cries quietly against my chest. Setting her on the edge of the bed, just long enough to pull her shoes off, I pull back the covers and tuck her in. Kicking off my own shoes, I climb in after her and wrap my arms around herholding her as close as I can while she cries herself out and all that’s left are a few errant sniffles against the side of my neck.

I love you.

It’s on the tip of my tongue but I can’t seem to push the words out of my mouth. Reasoning that saying it now would sound and feel like I said it just because I feel sorry for her, I push a hand between us to anchor a crooked finger under her chin. Lifting her gaze up to meet mine, I press my lips against her tear-stained cheek. “He’s wrong,” I tell her quietly. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Sunshine. Not a goddamn thing.”

“Thank you.” She tries to give me a smile but it doesn’t stick. “For sticking up for me.”

Flattening my hand, I slip it around the back of her neck. “You didn’t need my help,” I tell her, brushing her tears away with a sweep of my thumb. “You told him to fuck off, just fine on your own.”

“I didn’t, though.” She shakes her head against the pillow, blue eyes flooding with fresh tears. “I just?—”

Not letting her finish, I tighten my grip on the back of her neck and dip my head to brush my lips against hers to shut her up, the lingering pressure of it pulling a soft, humming sound up the length of her throat. Like it always does, the warm buzz of it against my mouth shoots straight down my spine and wraps itself around my cock, stiffening it in an instant. Ignoring it, I pull back so I can look down at her.

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