Page 81 of The Secret We Keep
His bristly tone fills me with unease. “Why do it?”
His pause is half a second too long for my liking. He looks at me, finally, and I see it in his eyes. Not fear, not anger. Pain.
“I have to.”
He’s done this before. “Why?” I snap, unable to hide the irritation in my voice.
His lips part like he’s going to come out with it, but he quickly closes his mouth, looking away from me. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Try me.”
His shoulders stiffen. “She’s my daughter, Paddy. It’s my job to look out for her.”
“She’s twenty-one.”
Turning on his heels, I think he’s going to walk away. But he faces me slowly, deliberate, an anguished look on his face like he’s calculating the cost of telling me the truth.
“I’ll never stop looking out for her.” Is that a threat?
“And my mother will never stop looking out for me, but you don’t see her following me around and hiding out of sight.”
Keeping his eyes on me, he frowns. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
I step closer to him, feet scraping the tarmac. “You’re the one who asked to talk,” I point out, face scrunching.
At six-foot, he stares down at me. “I need you to leave her alone,” he says tightly.
I run a hand over my mouth. Thinking. This runs deeper than a father simply looking out for his daughter. The way he controls her. The following her. It isn’t normal. “Bullshit.” He may be Morgan’s father, but if he’s responsible for making her unhappy, I won’t stand for it.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he retorts right away.
“Then tell me,” I demand, hands coming out by my sides. “Because right now, you look terrified of something, and the only person paying for it is Morgan.”
He moves so suddenly, I flinch. His hard step forward is close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. “This has nothing to do with you.” His voice sounds like he’s holding back a scream. “You think I want this?” His voice drops lower. “You think this is aboutme?”
My pulse hammers in my throat, but I stand my ground. “There’s something you’re not saying. Something you don’t want us knowing.”
“I don’t want her getting hurt,” he admits, and although in my gut I can tell he means it, something flickers across his face with a quick glance towards his house.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I tell him, my voice shaking but remaining firm. “You know that.”
He exhales sharply, eyes bouncing between mine. He saw what I did to Rory. He watched as I got Morgan out of there and dragged the scumbag away.
“But what about you?” I dare to say, tone thick. “Why didn’t youhelp her? Hmm. Why didn’tyouget her out of the pub the moment you saw that slimeball put a hand on her?”
Angry lines crinkle his forehead. “I didn’t know he touched her,” he growls.
“Yeah, well, he did. And what did you do? Fucking, nothing, that’s what.”
“Enough!” he barks, and it takes everything out of me not to laugh in his face. “I believe that you wouldn’t intentionally hurt my daughter. But Morgan doesn’t know the whole story. And I’m not going to watch as you unraveleverythingI have done to protect her, all because you might have feelings for her.”
I laugh now with distaste. “You say that like you’re not the one causing her this pain.”
He grabs a fistful of my jumper, yanking my face to his, cheeks flaming. I grab his wrists, but it only forces him to hold me tighter. “She’s sick,” he blasts, and my mouth opens but nothing comes out. Icy waves of shock flood every inch of my body.
We share a stunned silence, before he begins shaking his head, frustration and sadness making him vibrate. “Can you hear me?” He throws his hand down as he lets me go, and I take a step back.
“Sick?” I manage to choke out, my legs paralysed by shock.
