Tears burst out of me and I sob into my hands.
“You fucking asshole,” Lance lashes out, his voice venom as he sweeps me into his hold, but I push away and stand in front of him, separating them both before I face my dad head-on.
“I know you’re hurt. And I know this space I put between us wasn’t fair, but this has gone too far already. He’s your kind of man, if you would just get to know him.”
“I know plenty about him. I know he’s got an explosive temper that put a kid in the hospital.” Lance glances down at the driveway. “You think your good boy here didn’t fuck half a sorority house last year? Think again.”
“Don’t, please don’t. Anything he’s done doesn’t matter.”
“Go home, Harper.”
“Go,” Lance whispers at my back. “Just go. He’s not going to listen to you. You’re talking to a wall.”
I turn back to Lance to see his jaw set, and there is nothing but regret in his eyes.
My whole demeanor drops. “Please don’t believe him. You are not those mistakes.”
“I know, baby, go.”
“She’s not your goddamned baby!”
Lance closes his eyes, dropping his head.
“Dad, please, just be reasonable,” I plead before I turn to Lance.
“It’s okay,” he assures me, standing his ground. “He’s right. We should have come clean months ago.”
“Lance—”
“I’ll call you later.”
I nod, fear-filled tears sliding down my cheeks that he pushes away with his fingers. “This isn’t your fault, Harper.”
“As much as it is yours,” I sniff. “Promise you’ll call?”
“Swear.”
I look back at my father who looks like he’s just getting his second wind.
“Please, Dad—”
“Just go home, Harper.”
Lance
I’ve dealt with my fair share of livid coaches in my life, but none of their wrath has come close to that of Ryan Elliot. If looks could kill, I’d have been a dead man the minute his eyes connected with mine when Harper drove away. His voice equally as damning. “You let them suffer.”
“You made them suffer, and for what? I’ve never mistreated her. I’ve never done anything but care for her.”
“She’s not like other girls. She won’t recover if you rip her heart out. She’s been through a lot, and you’re subjecting her to a lot more.”
“I’m aware.”
“You have no fucking clue! Why her? You know she doesn’t fit your mold.”
“What mold would that be? Surely you can’t think so damned little of her that my interest or affection surprises you?”
“Be honest with yourself, you preyed on an innocent girl who’s starved for attention.”