Chapter 33 Honey #2
“Or what? You’ll ground me? You’ll cut up my credit cards? You’ll treat me like I’m a broodmare instead of your daughter?” I wipe my eyes as I shake my head. “It’s funny. I came here today worried that I might upset you with what I have to say, but it turns out I don’t care if I do.”
His expression grows thunderous, but I cut him off before he can say anything. “You shouldn’t be drinking. You’re going to ruin your kidneys. Mom told me you’ve been on dialysis.”
“That woman.”
“That woman who’s birthed your children and fed you and wiped your ass for decades.
Yes, that woman.” I grab the bottle of Macallan on his desk and head for the small sink.
My father loves his alcohol so much, he had a bar installed in his office because he couldn’t walk twenty feet to the kitchen.
I uncap the bottle and tip it down the drain.
“That’s a thirty-year-old bottle of whiskey! It cost almost five grand.”
Ignoring him, I pour out the last drops. “I shouldn’t care if you want to kill yourself,” I mumble to myself.
“What’s gotten into you?”
I set the empty bottle on the counter. “How could you treat Mom this way? Like she’s disposable? How could you treat your family like this?” Stupidly, my eyes sting, and I bite my lower lip to keep it from quivering.
“This has nothing to do with you,” he says gruffly.
Leaning against the bar, I cross my arms. “No? When were you planning to tell me about my half-brother? Sometime this century, I hope.”
His brows shoot up. “She told you about that?”
“Mom never uttered a word about your third son. I figured it out on my own.” Disgusted, I shake my head. “So what’s your big plan? Are you going to bring your sidepiece here? Will we pretend we’re one big happy family and fake it so the neighbors won’t talk?”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” He sighs and sips his whiskey like everything I’ve told him doesn’t matter.
I guess it doesn’t to him.
As I stare at the man who taught me how to ride horses when I was little, I wonder what happened to my dad. He was firm but loving. Have I been deluded all this time? Has he always been this monster?
My stomach roils. Even though I want to hightail it out of here, I need to get this over. I’d hoped to soft-launch my news by only telling him about Baylee’s wedding this week, and Beau the next time I saw him, but I don’t think there’s any point.
“I need to tell you a few things. One, I’m not going to marry Ian.
If you like him so much, you marry him. Tell him to stop calling me.
” He’s left me a dozen messages since our disastrous last date.
“Two, I’ve agreed to be a bridesmaid in Baylee and Maverick Walker’s wedding.
” Ignoring the way that vein on his temple throbs, I take a deep breath for the last one. “And three, I’m dating Beau Walker.”
He squints. “Who?”
“Beau. Walker. The third Walker brother. The fireman.”
A silence stretches between us before his eyes bulge. “The hell you are,” he roars.
I let him yell. He’s so loud, Trig joins us. Damn it. I really don’t need my brother jumping down my throat too.
“Whoa. What’s going on? What did Honey do?” Smiling, my big brother pulls off his work gloves and scruffs my hair. He’s in a good mood, but I can smell the booze wafting off him. I brace myself for his reaction because that smile isn’t going to last once I tell him I’m dating his archnemesis.
“Have you ever heard of loyalty?” My father sucks back the rest of his whiskey, echoing what Cash said the morning he found me and Beau on my couch.
Disgusted, I shake my head. “You’re asking me if I’m loyal? God, you’re a hypocrite. You cheat on Mom, have a kid outside your marriage, and you ask me about loyalty?”
“Jesus.” Trig looks back and forth between us. “Is this gonna go on much longer? Do I have time to make popcorn?” Apparently, Trig already knew about the kid. I’m always the last to know things around here.
My father gets out a cigar and taps it on his desk. “Your sister is sleeping with Beau Walker. Now tell me if you think I’m overreacting.”
Trig laughs like he doesn’t believe it, but when we make eye contact, that smile drops off his face. “You’re fucking with me right now.” His eyes travel over me, and he curses under his breath. “Where’s my shotgun?” Trig turns to go, and I grab his t-shirt.
“Please don’t do this.”
He shakes me off. “Are you pregnant?”
Oh my God. Why are the men in this family such Neanderthals? “Of course not.”
“Then there’s nothing stopping me from putting him five feet in the ground for touching you.”
I poke my brother in the chest. “If you hurt him, I will never forgive you. Do you hear me? Never. Is this vendetta more important than our relationship?”
His nostrils flare as he stares down at me. “You’d better pray I don’t find him.”
Then he’s gone.
I guess it is.
I run to my SUV, but Trig’s faster. I can see the dust the wheels of his truck left behind on our gravel driveway. I dial Beau’s number as I speed to his cabin, but he doesn’t pick up. When his voicemail answers, I leave a frantic message.
“Beau, it’s me. Trig knows about us. He ran off with his shotgun to find you. I’m headed to the cabin now.”
As I drive, I can only pray that Trig’s not dumb enough to use that weapon.