Dad dropped his head in his hands. I’d never seen him so defeated. I sank to my knees at his feet. “Please don’t, Dad. It’s going to be okay. All of it. Eleven months left? That’s nothing. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll never forgive myself.” He shuddered as a sob ripped through him.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said. “Please don’t torture yourself. I want you to be healthy and happy when I come home. I want you to be waiting for me with open arms. I’ll be there, Daddy. You’ll see. It’s not that long at all.” I pressed my forehead to his.
He offered no more words as his tears overcame him. I wrapped my arms around his shaking frame. I pulled from some deep well of strength inside myself—one I didn’t even know was there—as I held him.
“Time’s up.” Vinemont scowled at us.
“Look at him! Do you truly have no heart?” I hissed.
“In this case? No. No, I don’t. Now, gents, I suggest you get the fuck out of my house.”
“And if we don’t?” Dylan asked.
“Lucius,” Vinemont called.
His brother appeared, the two of them presenting a solid wall of muscle. They were almost a matching set. Both were glowering, their threat palpable. They could beat Dylan and my father senseless, and they would if given the opportunity.
“I’ll walk you out. Come on.” I refused to allow them to hurt Dad or Dylan.
My father rose with difficulty, and I helped him to the front door. Dylan took his other elbow as we maneuvered down the front steps. A black BMW waited out front.
“Did your mom get you a new car?” I asked.
“No, it’s his.” Dylan gestured to Dad.
“Oh.” I supposed his old, beat up Camry finally died.
I gave Dad another long hug. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”
He put a shaking hand to my cheek. “I’ll count the moments.”
Vinemont snorted as if Dad had told a joke. I shot him a corrosive glare.
Dylan and I helped Dad into the driver’s seat. Once he was in, I gave Dylan a long hug. Both Vinemont and Lucius smirked, no doubt feeling like they’d won some sort of victory. I’d show them.
When Dylan pulled away, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. At first he was surprised, but then he deepened it, bending me back and clutching me to him. His tongue sank in my mouth, trying to get the fullest taste possible. It wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but when he pulled me back upright and I broke the embrace, the fire in the Vinemont brothers’ eyes was more than worth it.
“That was…” Dylan ran a hand through his hay-colored locks. “That was nice.”
“I’ll see you again soon.” I put my hand on his chest, playing it up like an Oscar was hanging in the balance.
He sobered. “I’ll get you out of here. I swear I will.”
I smiled at him, though I knew his oath would be broken. There was no getting out of here. Not for me. Not until my time was up.
Dylan walked to the passenger side and dropped in. I waved them away down the driveway. When the car disappeared in the glare of the sun, I turned and floated back up the stairs.
Vinemont grabbed my arm. “What was that?”
“What?” I fluttered my lashes innocently.
“You know what.”
I shrugged, enjoying the muscle ticking in his jaw. “I’m just an affectionate stepsister. What can I say?” I pulled my arm from his grasp and strode past an equally pissed Lucius.
“Good afternoon, boys,” I called, and closed the front door behind me, my heart full to bursting with my petty victory.
Chapter Seventeen
Stella
The next morning, I breakfasted with Teddy. He was back from school for the weekend. We actually had a long discussion about his art appreciation class. Like Lucius, he seemed to have an eye for good art.
He started out throwing major shade at Jackson Pollack, but by the end of his second coffee, he was coming around to the idea that all art didn’t have to be still lifes and flowers in vases. I was growing fonder of him despite myself. He seemed so normal, like a young man trying to figure himself out and make his way in the world.
I wondered how such a well-adjusted person could have come from the likes of the Vinemont family. Then again, I’d only ever met Lucius and Sinclair. I didn’t know what their parents had been like.
“So, now that we’ve gotten your art classes straightened out,” I said, “I have a few questions of my own. I’m tired of being cooped up in here, and I think you can help me out. Are there horses I could ride?”
“Like here, on the estate?” He tore through a piece of bacon and winked at the pretty maid as she refilled my cup.