We both clamored out and he grabbed my suitcases, taking them to the door and sitting them down.
Rowan and Trent waited in the car for him to return, but were kind enough to give us a moment.
“So, I was thinking,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, “tomorrow’s Sunday…”
“Yeah?” I prompted when he trailed off.
He shook his head and returned to reality. “I was thinking maybe we could go to Pap’s for the day. It’s supposed to be nice and I know he’d love to see you.”
I nodded. “That sounds great.”
“Good,” he grinned, appearing relieved.
I was beginning to realize that when it came to me, Jude had a lot of insecurities. I guess my rude comments over the years had, had more affect than I ever realized. Good or bad, words were powerful.
He kissed me quickly, not wanting to give our audience a show.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called, jumping off the porch steps.
“Show off,” I muttered, to which he grinned.
“I’ll text you later with a time I’ll be by to pick you up,” he told me.
I nodded, digging my house key out of my pocket.
I took a deep breath, bracing myself, before I opened the door.
“TATUM ELIZABETH O’CONNOR!” My name was shouted at the top of my dad’s lungs. I hadn’t known he was here since he parked in the garage, and I hadn’t expected him so I was beyond shocked to hear him yelling my name.
“Dad?” My voice cracked and my whole body shook.
He came storming out of the back area of the house, where his home office lay. I couldn’t remember the last time he set foot in there.
“Where the hell have you been?!” He was still yelling even though I was in front of him. His voice was so loud that it made my ears ring. His face was red, veins bulging, and spittle clung to his lips.
For the first time in my life I felt real fear.
“I-I-I was at t-the beach with my f-friends,” I stuttered. I was scared out of my mind. I was tempted to open the door and run outside to see if my friends still lingered, but I feared what would happen if they were…more so if they weren’t there.
“The beach? The fucking beach? For a week? You have school, Tatum! And your mom! How could you be so irresponsible!”
I wanted to scream back, but fright kept my voice eerily soft. “It was spring break, dad,” I whispered. I was going into survival mode. Talking to him like he was suicidal and standing on a ledge.
“Spring break?! You should’ve cleared this with me!” He yelled, slamming a fist against his chest.
“I’m twenty-two, dad,” I held my hands up in a calming motion, “I can go on spring break with my friends if I want. I don’t need your permission.”
His breathing was labored and his face was still red. He kind of reminded me of a bull.
“I saw you with that Brooks boy! He’s bad fucking news Tatum! Not the kind of boy for a girl like you!”
What the hell? There was no way he could’ve seen us if he’d been in his office.
“H-how do you know about that?” I was stammering again. Great.
“I had cameras installed while you were away. Lord knows what you’re up to in my house,” he pounded his chest again. “Got one on the door and I saw you pull up and get out with him. A boy like that,” he shook his head, “oh, Tate, what have you done?” His anger started rising again as his thoughts headed in a dangerous direction. “Have you fucked him in my house?!”
“What?!” I was stunned. “No! Of course not, dad!”