Chapter 10
EVERLY
We're halfway back to Rush's flat when my phone rings.
I glance at the screen and my stomach drops.
Dad.
Of course it's my dad. Of course he's calling right now when I'm following Rush home to do something I probably shouldn't be doing.
I let it go to voicemail.
Two seconds later, it rings again.
Rush glances back at me at the next stoplight. He can see me looking at my phone.
I answer it.
"Hey, Dad."
"Where are you?" His voice is tight. I know that tone. Something's wrong.
"Dublin. Where else would I be?"
"Don't get smart with me. Where in Dublin?"
I pull over to the side of the road and Rush does the same. He kills his engine and watches me.
"I'm out with a friend. Why? What's going on?"
"What friend?"
"Just someone from the clubhouse. Why are you interrogating me?"
There's a pause and I can hear him breathing. He's trying to control his temper.
"Pyro called me," he says finally.
My stomach drops. "Okay."
"He says someone's been following you around Dublin, watching you."
"I know. You assigned someone to keep an eye on me. I'm not stupid."
"That's not what I'm talking about. This is different. Whoever this is, they're obsessed."
"Dad—"
"Don't Dad me. Who is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Everly Lynn, don't lie to me."
The use of my middle name makes me tense. He only does that when he's really pissed.
"I'm not lying. I genuinely don't know what Pyro told you."
"He told me one of his guys has been following you to Trinity, to your flat, to restaurants. That he's been lurking around you for weeks."
I close my eyes. Shit.
Rush is watching me and I can see him putting it together, can see the moment he realizes this call is about him.
"It's not like that," I say.
"Then what's it like?"
"It's just someone doing their job, making sure I'm safe."
"By stalking you?"
"He's not stalking me."
"Then what is he doing?"
I don't answer because I don't know what to say. How do I explain Rush to my dad without making it worse?
"Who is it?" Diesel asks, and his voice is dangerously calm.
"Does it matter?"
"It matters to me. Who is it?"
"I'm not telling you."
"Everly—"
"No, I'm serious. You don't get to interrogate me about who I'm spending time with. I'm twenty-four years old.
"You're my daughter."
"That doesn't give you the right to control my life."
"I'm not trying to control your life. I'm trying to keep you safe."
"I am safe. I've been safe this whole time."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. And I'm tired of this overprotective bullshit."
There's a long silence and I know I've crossed a line, know I shouldn't have said that.
But I'm not taking it back.
"Watch your mouth," he says finally.
"Or what?"
"Or I'm getting on a plane to Dublin and we're having this conversation in person."
The threat lands and I know he means it. My dad doesn't bluff.
"Don't," I say. "I'm fine, I promise."
"Then tell me who it is."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because Pyro says it's one of his guys and I want to know which one thinks he has permission to watch my daughter like that."
I glance at Rush. He's pale, his jaw is tight, and his hands are clenched.
He knows this is bad, knows Diesel finding out is going to be a problem.
"It's Rush," I say finally.
The silence on the other end is deafening.
"Rush," Diesel repeats, and his voice is flat.
"Yeah."
"The guy who went to juvie for shooting someone?"
"He was thirteen and he was trying to save his sister."
"I don't care if he was trying to save the Pope. He shot someone and now he's following my daughter around Dublin."
"He's not following me around. He's just making sure I'm safe."
"That's what we call it now?"
"Dad—"
"No, I want to talk to him. Put him on the phone."
"That's not a good idea."
"I don't care. Put him on the phone."
I look at Rush and mouth sorry, then I hold out the phone.
He takes it and I can see him bracing himself.
"Diesel," he says, and his voice is calm.
I can't hear what my dad says but I watch Rush's expression shift, watch his jaw get tighter.
"I understand," Rush says.
More talking from my dad. Rush's knuckles go white on the phone.
"Yes, sir."
More talking. Rush closes his eyes.
"I know, sir."
This is painful to watch. My dad is ripping into him and Rush is just taking it.
"It won't happen again," Rush says finally.
He hands the phone back to me and walks away, stands with his back to me staring at nothing.
I put the phone to my ear. "You done?"
"No, I'm not done. What the hell are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I like him."
"You like him? Everly, he's dangerous."
"So are you."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because I'm your father; I'm supposed to be dangerous. He's supposed to stay the hell away from you."
"That's not how this works."
"It is in my world."
I take a breath and try to calm down. Yelling at my dad isn't going to help.
"Look, I know you're worried. But I'm okay. Rush is a good guy."
"He's got a record."
"So do half the guys in your club."
"That's different."
"How is that different?"
"Because they're not trying to date my daughter."
"Who says he's trying to date me?"
"Pyro says he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive."
The words make my face hot because Pyro's not wrong.
"I can handle myself," I say.
"I know you can, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"You don't have to like it. You just have to trust me."
He's quiet for a long time, then he says, "I don't trust him."
"You don't know him."
"I know enough. I know he's got a temper, I know he's violent, I know he's obsessed with you."
"He's not obsessed."
"Then what is he?"
"Protective."
"There's a fine line between protective and possessive."
"I know the difference."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like he's got you wrapped around his finger."
That pisses me off. "I'm not wrapped around anyone's finger. I make my own choices."
"Then choose someone who's not broken."
The words land like a slap and I feel my temper spike.
"Everyone's broken, Dad. You're broken, I'm broken, every single person in that club is broken. That's not a reason to walk away."
"It is when they're dangerous."
"You're dangerous."
"I'm your father."
"And Rush is someone I care about, so you're going to have to deal with it."
"No, I don't. I can pull you out of Dublin right now, bring you back to South Carolina."
"Try it. See what happens."
"Don't test me."
"I'm not testing you. I'm telling you. I'm an adult and I make my own choices. If you don't like those choices, that's your problem not mine."
Silence stretches between us and I know I've pushed too far, know my dad is furious.
But I'm not backing down.
"We're not done talking about this," he says finally.
"Yeah, we are. I love you, but you don't get to control who I spend time with."
"I'm your father. It's my job to protect you."
"From what? Rush is a good guy who's been nothing but respectful."
"Respectful guys don't stalk you."
"He wasn't stalking me."
"Then what was he doing?"
"His job, the job Pyro gave him."
"Pyro told him to watch you, not follow you around like some obsessed asshole."
I look at Rush. He's still standing with his back to me. His shoulders are tense and I know he can hear every word.
"I need to go," I say.
"We're not done."
"Yes, we are. I'll call you later."
"Everly—"
I hang up before he can say anything else. My hands are shaking and my heart is pounding.
That went worse than I expected.
I walk over to Rush and touch his arm. He doesn't turn around.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Don't be, he's right."
"He's not right. He's overprotective."
"He's your father. He's supposed to be overprotective."
"That doesn't mean he gets to dictate my life."
Rush finally turns to look at me and his expression is closed off. "This isn't going to work."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Use my dad as an excuse to push me away."
"It's not an excuse. It's reality. Your dad hates me."
"He doesn't hate you. He doesn't know you."
"He knows enough."
"Rush—"
"No, he's right. I am dangerous, I am obsessed with you, and I have been following you around Dublin."
"You were doing your job."
"I was doing more than my job and we both know it."
I step closer. "So what, you're just going to walk away because my dad doesn't approve?"
"I'm going to walk away because this is going to cause problems for everyone."
"I don't care about problems."
"You should. Your dad's the VP of a major charter. If he's pissed at me it affects the whole Dublin chapter."
"Then we'll deal with it."
"How? You think your dad's just going to accept this?"
"Eventually, yeah."
"You're being naive."
The word stings. "Don't call me naive."
"Then don't pretend this is simple. Your dad will never approve of me."
"He doesn't have to approve. He just has to accept it."
"That's the same thing."
"It's not."
We stare at each other and the tension is thick, all the heat from earlier gone.
"I should go," Rush says.
"Running again?"
"I'm being smart."
"You're being a coward."
His jaw tightens. "Don't."
"Why not? It's true. My dad calls and suddenly you're backing off."
"Your dad called and reminded me why this is a bad idea."
"Everything's a bad idea if you're too scared to try."
"I'm not scared."
"Yes, you are. You're terrified that my dad won't approve, that I'll get hurt, that you'll fuck it up. So instead of trying, you're running."
"I'm protecting you."
"From what?"
"From me, from this, from all the shit that's going to happen if we keep doing this."
I laugh but there's no humor in it. "You know what, fine. Run. I'm done chasing you anyway."
I walk to my car and slide in. My hands are shaking with anger.
Rush follows me. "Everly—"
"No, you made your choice. My dad called and you folded, so we're done."
"That's not fair."
"Life's not fair. Get used to it."
I start my car and pull away. I don't look back to see if he's watching.
The ride home is quiet. My eyes are stinging but I refuse to cry.