Page 74 of Memories of Us

“I'm not. Go.” Not giving her a chance to argue, I turned back to Dad. “That doesn't explain why you're here.”

With an annoyed huff, he pushed off the doorframe and shouldered past into the loft. I slammed the door shut and turned to stalk after him.

He paused in the living room and slowly turned to take in the place. “Haven't changed anything since Caleb, I see.”

“Why would I? This isn't my home.”

“Right,” he mocked. “Forgot you're some government grunt playing soldier. I'll never understand why you left all this.” He waved his hands around the cold loft. “Left your brother. Well, we saw how that turned out for him.”

“You son of a bitch” came an angry voice at my back. Both of our heads whipped to her. “Fuck you for saying he had anything to do with Caleb's death. If anyone in the room is to blame, it's you.”

“I hope for you she's that feisty in bed. More fun to control,” Dad said with a chuckle before his attention swung back to me. “We need to talk. Alone.”

I widened my stance and crossed my arms over my bare chest with a smirk. “She can hear whatever you have to say.”

The hate-filled look he shot Beks drew a warning growl from deep in my gut.

“The attorneys called. Said you were asking about some old legal documents.”

I arched a brow in response. With Dad, fewer words were better in case he was attempting to corner you with your own.

“Drop it,” he stated with force.

“Why?”

“Fucking do it, son. For once in your damn life, do what I tell you to do and don't give me any shit about it.” Dad fell on to the couch and leaned back like he owned the place, stretching his arms out wide across the back.

“No.” Now more than ever, it was clear some shady shit went down in those hours after the wreck. Why, I had no idea, but if Dad was involved and nervous about what I'd uncover, it wasn't good.

“It's for your damn good. You and your ranch hand whore.”

I didn't think, just acted. Two long strides put me in front of the couch. Instead of beating the shit out of him sitting down, I fisted his shirt in my left hand and hauled him upright. His eyes went wide and wild as realization dawned.

The first punch flung him back so hard that his shirt slipped from between my fingers. Dad stumbled back, his knees buckling when they slammed into the glass coffee table. The piercing shriek of glass shattering resounded through the loft.

Blood streamed from Dad's nose as he pushed up to all fours before falling back into the sharp shards.

“Get the fuck out,” I somehow said through my rage-locked jaw.

“She's a gold-digging whore. Can't you see that? Hell, even her father saw it.”

A loud gasp sounded in my ears just before my bare foot connected with his rib cage. With a pain-filled moan, he rolled to his back, chest heaving.

Not giving a damn about the glass, I picked up his feet and dragged him across the living room. After depositing his moaning ass in the hall, I slammed the door and turned the deadbolt.

Anger still boiling, I stormed into the empty living room.

“Beks?” I said before scanning the bedroom. “Rebeka.”

Turning a corner, I stared down the dark hallway that led to Caleb's side. I hadn't stepped foot in that section of the loft since my return and wasn't planning on it now.

A flicker of movement on the balcony caught my eye. The tight breath I'd held as I searched released slow and controlled.

“Hey.” I stepped out onto the balcony and leaned against the railing, mirroring her. “You okay?”

“That?” She huffed and hung her head. A strong gust of wind blew her long hair across her face, keeping me from reading her features. “It's nothing I haven’t heard before. After you left and people found out about us, about the baby, the whore name was as common as my actual one.”

My knuckles whitened as my grip tightened on the metal railing.

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