Page 55 of Inked Daddies

I freeze, my hand on the doorknob, before turning to face him. “Out,” I say carefully. “To see some friends.”

His eyes narrow. “To see your friends ormyfriends?”

My stomach is a rock.He knows.But I play innocent. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Is there anything going on that I should know about?”

I frown and almost smile, trying to be convincing. “Anything like what, Dad? You’ve been weird since I got the tattoo.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “If Sam, Trick, or Hugo lays a hand on you,” he says, his voice low and cold, “I’ll kill them.”

I scoff a sharp laugh while my heart skips a beat, and I force myself to meet his eyes. “They’ve never raised a hand to me, and they never would. You know that.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” he snaps.

“Who put this ridiculous idea in your head?”

“Auclair is a small town, and small-town people talk,” he says bitterly. “Mrs. Wasserman saw Hugo standing too close to you.”

“An old lady with glaucoma saw someone standing too close to me, and you’re worried? Since when are you this paranoid?”

But he doesn’t back down. “The night you came home with that damn tattoo, Danny Brooker?—”

“Danny?” I interrupt, laughing bitterly. “Danny’s mad because I broke up with him in middle school, and he’s been throwing tantrums about any man who so much as looks at me ever since.”

“So, Trick was justlookingat you?”

“What?”

“According to Danny, Trick put his arm around you. I quote, ‘like he owned her.’”

Fucking Danny. I try to laugh it off, but the sound comes out strangled. There’s no good way for me to get out of this, and I need to meet the guys to figure things out. My heart is racing, and I hate arguing with Dad. There’s no air in the room—he uses his big, booming preacher voice when he’s mad, and it makes me feel like a kid again. I hate it so much.

I have to make him let me go.

“Danny Brooker is just being a jealous brat, and Trick knew it as soon as he started up, so he was helping me out and making it look like there’s something between us. He was acting?—”

“Was he? Or are you acting, right now?”

He knows. And there’s no other way to get out of here. I have to go through him. Feels like a car is parked on my chest. I have to get out. I can’t stay, I can’t breathe, I can’t think!

“Dad, I’m pregnant. What I do about it is my choice. Not yours.”

His mouth drops, his face pales, and I don’t wait for him to respond. I turn on my heel, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind me. When I peel out of the driveway, Iexpect to see him in the rearview mirror, like some horror movie monster coming to chase me down.

But he doesn’t. I imagine he’s still standing in the living room with that shocked look on his face. By the time I reach the guys’ house, I’m frazzled, exasperated, and on the verge of tears.

I don’t even bother knocking. I push the door open, stepping inside to find all three of them waiting for me, their expressions shifting as they take me in. Did Sam call them here too?

“You look like hell,” Trick says, but his tone is light, teasing, and it immediately makes me feel a little better.

I huff a laugh and glance at Sam, who’s standing by the window, his arms crossed. Hugo is leaning against the counter, watching me with his usual sharp, calculating gaze.

And for the first time in weeks, the tension in my chest eases. There’s air in here, and it smells a little like their cologne.

But then Sam speaks. “Cat Blackstone.”

My stomach churns. It cannot catch a break today. “What?”

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