Page 43 of Wild Child
But Quentin holds his ground.
“We’re together.”
“Like fuck you are.” Dad pulls himself up straight and glowers at Quentin. “What did you do to my little girl?”
He pushes Quentin in the chest, and his hand is wrenched from mine as Quentin staggers backwards. He bumps into the table, sending the pile of napkins Luke was folding tumbling to the ground.
“Fuck,” Luke mutters but wisely wheels himself out of the way and joins Davis by the bar.
Quentin holds his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture.
“I tried to fight it, but what’s between us is too strong.”
“You should have fought harder.” Dad pushes him again, but Quentin won’t fight back. “She’s my fucking daughter. You had one job, Quentin, one job. Protect Charlie, look out for her, not…”
He turns away and runs a hand through his hair. “She’s my fucking daughter!”
“She’s right here,” I cut in. “I’m twenty-two years old, Dad. I can make my own decisions.”
He turns on me, and I’ve never seen him this angry. I cower backwards.
“You’re vulnerable, Charlie. I wasn’t around when I should have been, and your mother wasn’t exactly there for you either. You’re desperate for acceptance, and now you’ve fallen into the arms of the first man who offers you that. My so-called friend who should have known better.”
He spits the last bit at Quentin.
His words make my head spin. Is that true? Am I falling for Quentin because he’s the first man who’s treated me right?
I glance at Quentin, and he’s staring at me intently and he shakes his head softly.No. A rush of emotion cascades through me. It’s more than that. I know it is.
“It’s not like that, Dad.”
“It’s exactly like that, and he should have known better.” His wrath turns to Quentin. “Get the fuck out of my club.”
Quentin pulls himself up to his full height. “I’d hoped you of all people would understand about love.” He’s referring to my dad’s second marriage to a much younger woman who he had no business falling for.
Quentin reaches out a hand to me. “Come on, Charlotte. Let’s go.”
I search my dad’s face, because I don’t want to leave like this. I want his blessing, and I want him to be happy for us. But all I see is anger and hurt.
I take Quentin’s hand.
“If you leave with her, don’t come back.”
Quentin hesitates, and my heart is in my throat. When it comes down to it, he’s not going to choose me. I try to slide myhand out of his. To let go before he can reject me. But he only clasps it tighter.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Raiden. But I love Charlotte, and I’m not giving her up.”
“You’re just going to walk away?” Dad sounds incredulous even though that’s just what he told Quentin to do. “You’re going to walk away from the club and the brewery and everything that that we’ve built together?”
Quentin looks at me. Our eyes lock, and his expression softens.
“Yes,” he says simply.
Then he turns, and with his hand firmly in mine, heads for the door.
I stumble after him down the corridor and out into the fresh air. My emotions are in turmoil. This was supposed to be easy. I never meant to make him choose between me or the club.
“You can’t leave the club, Quentin. You can’t leave the brewery.”
