What was King risking?
“Enough,” Yates bit out, pulling me back.
“You as well?” He arched a brow. “And here I thought it was just King who had fallen so far. An Aldridge, nonetheless.”
“What?” I demanded softly.
His eyes slid over to me. “I bet my son has also shown interest, hasn’t he? You don’t have to tell me. I know he has. You remind me of his bitch mother.”
His son?
My eyes widened in realization as Yates let out a vicious sound. I kept a hand on him to keep him still, Dermot’s father, I presumed, letting out a laugh that was almost nervous.
“Just in looks, I promise.”
“Fuck off.” Yates stepped forward into his space, overshadowing him. “You know how limited my patience is. If you want to go see King, do it, but don’t fucking talk to her. Don’t even look at her. Understand?”
The man paled as he grunted and offered a nod, storming past with the two larger men following him.
I swallowed, watching him disappear as I looked at Yates. “That was Dermot’s father?”
“You can’t call that piece of shit a father,” he growled and took my hand, leading me around a bend and through a set of doors. Instantly, mist hit my skin as I found us standing outside in the courtyard in the center of the estate. Between the stone path and lush greenery, it almost reminded me of a faerie garden but full size.
“He was horrible,” I whispered and shook my head. “Holy crap.”
I couldn’t quite process that that man was related to Dermot.
Yates nodded in agreement. “I have been waiting for an excuse to get rid of him.”
“I am assuming you don’t mean like ‘kick him out of the building’?” I offered a small smile.
“No, I don’t mean anything so temporary.” His eyes sparked with something dark as his lip twitched. “Unfortunately, family is different than some fucking bastard trying to corner you. Although if he keeps looking at you like that, Dermot may take care of his father for me.”
I rolled my eyes. “He wouldn’t kill his father for looking at me.”
Yates arched a brow. “Right, and he didn’t want to take on an entire gang by himself after they threatened you. Rational action isn’t really a trait in the Ross family, not that I have a right to talk.”
I tilted my head in thought because he wasn’t wrong… and that would mean Dermot felt something for me that was far more serious than I had considered.
“Well, that and their temper.” He shook his head.
“King doesn’t have that bad of a temper. I feel like his anger at security the other day was more than justified.”
Yates brushed his hands through my hair as my head tilted back. His eyes were a dark charcoal shade, and his expression was serious. “Absolutely more than justified, but that was King angry. I’m not talking about him being angry. I’m talking about him losing his shit, something I hope you never see. Although, the way you managed to pull him back from that was fairly unusual, so maybe if he blacked out you could do the same then.”
Blacked out? He had the ability to get that angry? I tried to imagine that but couldn’t fully. Hadn’t I seen him angry yesterday? I thought that had been bad, but if I was to believe Yates, then there was something far worse. King was such a steady presence in my life, and the idea of him being so furious that it would upset someone like Yates made me wonder how bad it really was. Before I could ask him for more detail, the garden door opened and out strolled Dermot, shaking his head and looking really annoyed.
My eyes widened as he took out a cigarette and lit it, not noticing us as he sat down on one of the stone benches, leaning his forearms against his knees. Yates kissed the top of my head and urged me forward, and when I looked back, he was gone.
What the heck?
I heard a door shut in the distance as I shook my head, needing to have a talk with that man. How did he move like that?
Dermot was murmuring something to himself, looking stressed and honestly a bit shaky as he inhaled on the cigarette and blew out the smoke around him. I sat down next to him on the bench without a word, his gaze snapping to my heels before crawling up my legs, his eyes nearly black as they met mine. I considered asking him what was wrong, but assuming it was his father’s presence, I just ran my hand up his back in a soothing motion. It worked for all of a minute.
Then the man seemed to snap. I let out a squeak as he tugged me onto his lap, my skirt riding up so that it was tight across my hips as I straddled him. His arms circled my back and his lips pressed to mine in a tobacco kiss that shouldn’t have turned me on. I could taste whiskey on his lips also, making me practically purr. My fingers dug into his hair as he let out a low growl that vibrated against my mouth.
“Fuck this place,” he muttered and pressed his forehead to mine. “I heard you met the bastard that calls himself my father.”