Page 23 of Their Little Snow Angel
“I wish I’d gotten you something,” Violet says on a sigh.
“There’s an entire store’s worth of kink upstairs in your bags.” I point in the direction of her room. “I wouldn’t complain if we get to open up some of those toys.”
She grins. “It’s a plan. Race ya!”
Heath and I give her a head start, but I grab her before she reaches the stairs. I whirl her around in my arms, then back her against the railing for a kiss.
“Mmm,” I kiss her jaw, then back up to her lips. “You taste like chocolate.”
The front door bangs open.
Mason stands, framed by the doorway, a furious expression on his face. “What the fuck is going on here?”
12
Violet
My dad stares at me in Brody’s arms. My lips are swollen from the guys’ kisses. I feel guilty, guilty, guilty. I lied. And now I’m caught in that lie.
And—what’s Mikayla doing here with my dad?
“Dad—um, hi. What—why?—?”
He stares down Brody and Heath. “Come here, Violet. We’re leaving.”
Brody takes a step away from me. Why? I can’t help but feel hurt at the lack of contact. I reach for Brody’s hand and I’m reassured when he gives me a gentle squeeze.
“Dad.” I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here.”
“This is inappropriate and wrong.” He releases a furious exhale. “I expected better from my former friends. You shouldn’t be here with them. They’re too old for you, and far too experienced?—”
“Mason—” Heath begins.
“Don’t fucking talk to me.” Dad slices a hand through the air. “Never again. We’re done. I’m taking my daughter and we’re leaving. And the two of you will pack your things and leave. Today.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I wipe them away, irritated that I cry when overwhelmed. I’m not sad, I’m just…angry. Confused. I can’t believe our idyllic Christmas has been interrupted by so much hate. “Dad, stop—there’s nothing bad about what we’re doing here. I’m staying. You can go. Or if they go, I’m going with them.”
His brown eyes are beseeching. “I’m not leaving you alone with them, Violet. They’re predators.”
“Predators? No way. And I’m not leaving with you.” I don’t like how I sound—petulant, childish. “I love you, Dad, but you’re wrong about this.”
“Violet?” Mikayla’s voice is soft, hesitant. “Maybe you’d agree to talk to your dad alone? I think he just wants to make sure you’re safe.”
She’s the voice of reason when all reason seems to have left the cabin.
I lock gazes with my dad. “I could do that.”
“Yes.” He sends a strange look toward Mikayla. “Let’s talk alone. Kitchen?”
“Sure.” I sigh. This is too much emotion to handle. Everyone’s upset, and all I want to do is dive into bed and hide under the covers until the storm passes.
Dad walks into the kitchen, not looking at his friends. Or former friends? Did I just ruin their years-long friendship?
Brody and Heath have been quiet this whole time, their jaws set, their fists clenched firmly at their sides. But as I walk from the room, Heath catches my eye. He gives me a soft smile and whispers, “We love you, angel. Never forget that.”
Mikayla hesitates. “Should I stay…?”
“You can come, too.” I gesture her into the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt to have an ally who understands me. Dad understands, but he doesn’t know me the same way Mikayla does. He can’t articulate my feelings like she can, and even if he could, he’s blinded in this situation. I may not be great at conflict, but even I can recognize this.
