“You look nice,” he murmurs, walking toward me. “Even if red is the color of whores.”
I don’t flinch at his nasty words. Instead, I stride over to him, not cowering from his cold stare.
“I’ve just fixed my makeup, Daddy. Don’t make me cry.” I deliver my response with an impassive facial expression. “Is it time to leave yet?”
His eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, but to my surprise, he nods. “They’re waiting at the restaurant. I told them we’d be a little late.”
I start past him, but his hand encircles my wrist, stopping me. “Be good, sweetheart. Don’t let that mouth get you into trouble. It won’t end well for you.”
His threat makes me internally quake and the welts on my ass throb. I refuse to let him see what it does to me. Biting hard on the inside of my cheek, I give him a curt nod. “Always on my best behavior, Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
Fuck you.
* * *
All of my carefully constructed walls come crumbling down the second I lay eyes on Ty. He’s sitting at the table with a scowling man I recognize from the news, Winston Constantine, and a beautiful, smiling brunette. There are two seats available at the round five-top table, one beside Ty and one beside Winston.
Hurrying ahead of my father, I greet Ty with extra enthusiasm. “Ty! So good to see you!”
“Landry,” he says, standing and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Sit. We need to catch up.”
He pulls out the chair beside him and I ease into my chair, whimpering slightly at the pain of it. Ty tenses and I feel Dad’s penetrating glare on me. I may be a good actress, but I can’t erase the pain—the pain he inflicted—and I’m tired of hiding it for his benefit.
“Winston, Ash,” Ty says, “this is my friend, Landry Croft, Alexander’s daughter.”
The woman, Ash, gives me a little wriggle of her fingers. “So nice to meet you.”
Dad, Winston, and Ash get pulled into conversation with the three of them, but my attention is solely on Ty.
“How are they?” I whisper, my voice quavering.
“Worried about you.” He glances down. “He hurt you. I can tell you’re hurt. Are you okay?”
I chew on my matte-red-painted bottom lip, willing the tears to stay put. “I’ve been better.”
His jaw clenches, anger flashing in his blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s temporary,” I tell him, meeting his stare. “It has to be.”
“It will be. They’ll figure something out.”
I can feel eyes burning into me. When I glance over, Winston is watching me. Like he can see right inside me head. A shudder passes through me. Quickly, I look away, taking solace in Ty’s friendliness.
“What would happen if he knew you were helping them?” I murmur softly.
“Winston can’t know,” Ty says back. “Ever.”
We get through dinner easily enough, Ty and I stealing secret conversations when we can. To an outsider, it might seem we were two would-be lovers, on the path to a happily ever after. To me, he’s my link to the outside—to them.
Dad starts talking to Winston about his birthday party that’ll be here next weekend. It gives me an opportunity to escape his suffocating presence. He shoots me a warning look when I rise to my feet, excusing myself to the restroom, but he’s too engrossed in conversation to do more than that.
“I’ll go with you,” Ash says quickly, scrambling to her feet.
I’m not eager to make friends with this woman—since she’s married to some dude who’s friends with my horrible father—but I can’t exactly tell her no either. I force a warm smile her way.
She babbles about nothing of interest until we’re safely inside the bathroom. Her entire demeanor changes. Concern washes over her features.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “I can tell you’re in pain.”
Am I that transparent? If Dad knew she was in here checking on my wellbeing, he’d be pissed.
“I’m fine,” I lie, lifting my chin. “Thanks for asking.”
She approaches with careful hesitation. “Did they…” She trails off. “I’m so sorry.”
They?
Frowning, I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Those men. The terror triplets.” She winces and her facial expression sours into a pucker. “Did they force themselves on you?”
She says it so knowingly.
Like she’s certain this is what happened.
Fire ignites in my chest, the need to defend them burning through me. “They didn’t force themselves on me.”
I want to scream at her that it was my father who hurt me, but I don’t trust this woman even a little bit.
“Oh?” Shock morphs her features and her lips part in surprise. “I just assumed. You were with them for an entire week. That’s what Winston told me.”
“You assumed incorrectly,” I hiss, bitterness in my tone. “I chose to be there.”
“Chose?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
She scoffs. “Actually, I would. Better than anyone. I have my own history with those three. The things they did to me…” Her eyes well with tears. “They’re cruel, callous monsters, Landry. I’m sorry they duped you into thinking—”