“I said,” he spits out as if he’s already bored being in my presence. To be fair, I probably smell like a brewery and look like the back end of a mangled bus, so I kinda get it. “Do you care about her?”
A frown forms on his brow when my only response is to laugh.
“We didn’t come here to hurt you, kid. Unlike the others, we’ve walked away from today,” Cruz says, finally turning to acknowledge me. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t.”
I nod, more than aware that they could pull a gun and put an end to all of this right now, should they want to.
“Yes. Yes, of course I care about her. I wouldn’t have done all this if I didn’t.”
“So you stalked her, locked her up, lied to her, all because you care?” Dawson confirms.
Well, when you put it like that…
“I was trying to protect her. I had no idea if she was in danger, and learning the truth would have meant she’d run.”
“Exactly like she did, you mean?” Cruz asks.
“Yeah,” I mutter, remembering vividly her stood in front of her uncle with a victorious look on her face.
She played me. And played me well. I might have sensed that something wasn’t quite right, but I had no fucking idea what was about to go down. If I did, we never would have left this flat.
I’d have backed her up against the windows wearing that insanely sexy dress and spent the night celebrating the new year the only way I really wanted to.
Inside her.
Banishing thoughts of how insane her cunt is while being glared at by both her terrifying father and uncle, I look between the two of them.
“I fucked all this up,” I confess, not in any mood to argue with these two when I’m clearly the one in the wrong.
D takes a step toward me, his fists curling at his sides.
I square my shoulders, attempting to prepare for the hit I’m sure is to come. Something tells me that with his size, the force will be akin to running head first into a brick wall.
But that doesn’t mean I’ll cower down.
I deserve it, after all. So he can have at it.
Hell, maybe Emmie even sent him.
He doesn’t stop until we’re toe to toe.
“You’re a fucking mess, Cirillo. Even if my daughter decided to forgive you for all the shit you’ve pulled, you don’t fucking deserve her.
“I need to see her.”
He laughs right in my face.
“Not as much as I need to protect her. If you get to see her again, it’ll be on her terms. Not yours. You’re done pulling the strings, Cirillo.
“My daughter is smart. I trust her to make her own decisions about who is worthy of her time. So despite what I might think, this is down to her.
“But your time of locking her up in here like some kind of prisoner is done. Do you hear me?”
“I never hurt her, Dawson. I gave her everything she needed.”
“So it was her replying to my messages then, was it? Her assuring me that she was fine and having the time of her life while we were in Vegas?”
I swallow because there’s little point in arguing.