Page 70 of The Triple Play

I didn’t respond. Icouldn’t. Never in my life had I imagined my father interrogating me over this, outright asking if I was sleeping with them, shoving his nose into the life he helped create but usually kept an unhealthy distance from.

“You know,” he said, taking a few steps forward until he was right on the other side of the coffee table, his eyes locked on mine, his forehead lines prominent and angry. “I thought you were smarter than this. But then I remember you got your degree inmusic performanceand I’m reminded all over again.”

A dry, humorless laugh bubbled up my throat, anger coating the sound of it. “Wow. Really? Attacking that again? Was this not enough of a Dad-deemed fuck-up that you had to throw in my degree?”

His jaw worked as he looked at me. “What happened to Elliot?” he asked, dodging my words entirely.

I recoiled a little. “What does any of this have to do with Elliot?”

“He was good for you, that’s what it has to do with this,” he said flatly as if it was a fact, as if it had been carved into stone and prophesized for millennia.

“You barely liked Elliot.”

“He haddirectionthough, Annie. He had ambition. He was smart. He was published.” He shook his head as if it was obvious. “I would have gladly welcomed him into the family. At least then I’d have a child that didn’t run off chasing men like some?—”

“Somewhat, Dad?” I snapped. “Some whore? Is that the word you wanted to use?”

His jaw was tight, the vein in his temple twitching. “You’re humiliating yourself,” he said, dodging my question.

My body finally unlocked, my patience wearing thin. “No. I’m doing something that makes me happy, which you’vealwayshad a problem with. Karate? No, she needs more math tutoring. Acting? No, she needs to study. Singing lessons? No, she needs to do debate club. Music lessons? No, couldn’t have her end up a deadbeat, she needs to learn how tofile taxes,” I listed them on my fingers, walking him through a shortlist of times he’d let me down as a child alone. “I took control when I went to college and you’ve fucking hated it since. If my life choices embarrass you in front of your stupid golf buddies who don’t give two shits about you, then maybe they’re the wrong people to impress.”

He stared at me in silence, mouth pressed into a hard line. It was so obvious that he wanted to say more, wanted to drag me back down into the polished, spotless version of me he’d spent eighteen years trying to build. But I wasn’t going to let him.

“You think Elliot wasgoodfor me?” I asked, my voice lowering. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I need.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his gaze hardening. “I know you need money.”

“I have enough between work and my occasional gig and my trust.”

“Funny you should mention your trust.” His hands slipped into his pockets. “I’ve moved it.”

The world tilted on its axis. “You what?”

“I moved it,” he said again. “I looked at the statement. Looks like you pull just enough out for your rent each month, is that right?”

“Dad,” I swallowed.

“I’ve got a new card for you.” He pulled out a sleek black card from his pocket, holding it out to me like some kind of bargaining chip. “It’s a direct access to the trust.”

I reached out hesitantly, but he pulled it back just an inch before my fingers could touch it.

“Step back in line, and you’ll keep access.”

There it was. The other shoe dropping, the storm after the calm. “What?”

“You heard me, Annabelle.”

I blinked at the black card, my head spinning. “You can’t do that. Mom left that for me.”

“Your mother left me in charge of the account. I can do what I please with it,” he said, his voice too calm, too eerie. “And if that means saving you from yourself, then that’s what I’ll do. No more chasing hockey guys, and you have one year to make music work otherwise you’re coming to work at the firm.”

I couldn’t breathe. My throat felt like it was closing in, the backs of my eyesburned.

“And give Elliot another chance, while you’re at it.”

Chapter25

Colton

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