Page 21 of The Lilac River

“You’re lucky Mom raised us better than you ever did.”

His sneer deepened. “Do you want to hear what I came to say or not?”

I gave a mocking bow. “By all means.”

He looked me dead in the eye.

“Lily Jones is back.”

I barked a humorless laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know, Dad.”

Chapter 8

Bad Blood – Taylor Swift

Nash

As I walked back toward the house, I could hear the sharp clip of Dad’s expensive shoes behind me. Every precise step echoed off the gravel, a sound too clean, too polished for this land. For this life. It didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong here.

His presence had always made my skin crawl, the way he filled a room with his expectations, his judgment, his ego. Nothing was ever enough. Not for the town. Not for the ranch. Not for him.

I kept walking, hoping he'd get the message and leave.

No such luck.

When I reached the porch steps, I exhaled hard and turned. "What the hell are you still doing here? You gave me your news, news I already knew. Now you can go."

"We need to talk about getting rid of her again," he said.

I reared back. "What?" The words scraped through my throat. I stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward him. "Get rid of her? Again? What the fuck does that mean?"

"She'll drag you back in, son." His tone was hard, like even calling me "son" cost him something.

"Drag me back into what? She's not a damn drug cartel, she's a woman." I stalked toward the house

He followed closely, his presence a damn specter at my back. "You don't know what you're inviting in."

I laughed, cold and low. "You think I don't know pain? You think I haven't lived in the ashes she left behind? You think you get to tell me how to feel?"

Shaking my head, I stomped up the steps, the wood creaking under my boots, and pushed open the door.

"Hi Daddy!" Bertie chirped from the living room.

My entire body softened as soon as I laid eyes on her. "Hey, Munchkin." I ruffled her hair and dropped a kiss on top of her head. One look at her, and the rest of the world faded to gray.

The TV was paused. “Bless Your Beautiful Hide?” Having watched it enough to feel confident I was right.

"Uncle Wilder was too busy, so I took the opportunity," she said with a shrug, sass written all over her.

God, she killed me.

Before I could say more, Dad followed me in.

"Oh, hey Grandpa," Bertie said politely, but her voice lacked warmth.

He gave her a lazy wave but barely looked at her before turning to me. "Roberta?—"

"What did I do?" Bertie exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Uncle Gunner said he’d fix the window!"

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