I’ll take suggestions on what to say to something like that.
“I’m sorry, what?” is probably the worst response I could give, but it’s the one that pops out.
He continues to point a finger at me. I’m beyond grateful that it’s not armed.
“You hid her away over here in the Vincent corner, hoping I wouldn’t ever see it. But I’m smart, boy. I had Max call me if she came in to buy blue paint.”
“I’m sorry, what?” is again the worst response I could currently have.
“And now I’m going to rip your arms off and beat you with them,” he says on a frustrated breath, not really all that angry.
“That’s a very vivid imagery, but is there any way we could talk about this after I find Kylie and find out what the hell I’ve done?”
Benson snorts, and I quirk an eyebrow at him.
“There won’t be any talking to Kylie, because we will literally break your legs if you try that,” George barks.
Good to know all that limb-ripping stuff must have just been figurative chat before now.
When I open my mouth to speak, he looks away and talks to Killian before I can.
“Figures you brats would be on his side. You sure you want to do this?” George growls.
Killian grins, and Hale positively beams at him.
George snorts, vaguely resembling the sound of a bull.
“And you?” George asks Benson incredulously.
“He’s a Vincent now, remember?” Hale points out, as Benson pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something about loving this town in mantra, as though he’s convincing himself of this.
Someone shoves Jared out toward Benson’s side, and he curses while glaring at Benson.
“It’s our time to shine, George,” Killian says with a grin.
“You’ve been saying that for years,” Jared states dismissively.
“Will someone, please, for fuck’s sake, just tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask, exasperated.
A boat docks somewhere, but I’m busy staring at George instead of looking to see who it is.
“You’re getting a beating for making Kylie buy blue paint,” Eric tells me helpfully.
“Ah, makes perfect fucking sense,” I tell him dryly.
“See? He gets it. Let’s put the music on and do this,” Heath says.
“Music?” I ask, confused—clearly. It’s apparently the theme of the hour.
Jared curses when Benson smirks at him.
Usually Jared looks like he wants to hurt someone, but apparently Benson is the one guy no one particularly wants to fight.
Jared snatches Eric and pulls him closer. “Five on four means I get one to help me with the ninja,” Jared explains.
“We’re putting Jason on Liam,” Hale states, acting like this is a business transaction of some sort. Or maybe a game of kickball where you try to pick teams.
“Jason?” George asks, stroking his beard thoughtfully as Jason practically foams at the mouth with menace in tangible form. “Interesting choice.”
I’m not okay with this.
Not that anything I want matters.
George shoves Heath toward Killian. “I’m not tangling with that Vincent. I’ll take Hale.”
Hale bounces on his feet, taking a couple of test swings.
“Was it another girl?” George asks me, narrowing his eyes, and a stone drops in my gut.
“Look, I ended things with Felicia after just three weeks with Kylie,” I assure him. “And I would have ended it sooner—”
“What?” everyone asks at once, causing my eyes to widen into saucers when I see this is apparently brand new information.
I’m not sure what exactly the original question was that led me down that hellish path of confession, but I clearly misunderstood it completely.
“That was the first time!” I’m quick to defend. “Not this time. No. I’m one thousand percent Kylie’s boyfriend and no one else’s, and I haven’t been with anyone since her the first time.”
It feels a little warmer out here than it did a minute ago.
“And I would have broken up with Felicia sooner, but I sort of forgot about her,” I prattle on, getting nothing but silent stares in return.
“She was overseas. Out of sight, out of mind,” I add, laughing nervously because I just can’t seem to stop making it worse. It’s as though my mouth has conspired against me.
“Stop talking,” Hale says like he’s truly embarrassed for me.
Hale Vincent is embarrassed for me.
This morning started off so well…
They start arguing my past indiscretions, and I end up word-vomiting the entire fucking story that led to me moving to Tomahawk—a-fucking-gain. Only this time, I don’t omit Felicia.
George still wants me dead, and he instructs Jason to have no mercy.
All of this takes roughly ten minutes, because I leave out all the oral sex pieces out of the conversation I’m having about this daughter.
“I really think there’s a less violent way to—”
Absolutely no one is listening to me anymore, so I just shut up and step back, eyeing Jason as he snaps his teeth at me. What the actual fuck?
Benson moves beside me and says, “This is where you decide how much you really want the girl. Unlike you, I had a lot of years to acclimate to this sort of thing. George may play like he’s okay with his only daughter being in a relationship, but he really needs you to prove you’re in it to stay,” Benson tells me. “This madness? This is what’s fun to them. And they’re over-the-top crazy on a good day, and reckless on a bad one. You can walk away right now, and this doesn’t have to be your life. So I repeat: How bad do you really want the girl?”