56. Vivienne
Vivienne
We don’t even make it out the door before it slams open and my father storms in, his face redder than I’ve ever seen it.
“This is a load of shit,” he says, spittle flying from his mouth. His bushy gray brows are drawn low, and I take a step back. “Your mother said you’re refusing to walk down the aisle.”
Lifting my chin, I look him straight in the eye, despite how badly I want to avert my gaze. “I’m not marrying Landon,” I say.
“Yes, you fucking are!” He moves toward me, and even though he’s never hit me before, I’m not confident he won’t start now.
I flinch and press back further into Bash’s hand, solid against my back. He angles his body toward mine. “Don’t you take another fucking step,” he tells our father.
Dad laughs, and the sound of it chills my bones. “I’ll do whatever the hell I please. She’s my daughter.” He scoffs. “And don’t think I’m scared of my own son.”
I take a deep breath. As much as I appreciate my brother’s support, I need to do this myself. “Dad, there isn’t going to be a wedding. Landon and I already talked. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. I know it the second the words are out of my mouth. You don’t tell a Wilson what they can or cannot do.
My father’s face grows a deeper shade of maroon as his hands clench into fists at his sides. “There’s always something I can do, especially when my stupid daughter goes and screws everything up. First Rhya, now this. I ought to disown you.”
Shaking my head, I scramble to find another reservoir of courage inside my heart. It feels bone-dry. If I go along with him, maybe I could find another way out later. Maybe Landon and I could quietly get divorced in a few weeks and avoid a big scandal.
But even as I think it, I know I can’t do it. I can’t let my father dictate my life like this. If I can’t stand up to him about something this important, I never will.
Beside me, Bash grows rigid, and I know it’s taking everything within him not to throw a punch right now. I place a hand on his arm. “Since I’m clearly such a disappointment,” I tell Dad, “maybe you should disown me.”
His nostrils flare as he presses his lips into a thin line. He’s not used to having his bluff called, and it’s strangely satisfying to watch. “Need I remind you about a little agreement we made three years ago?”
My heart shudders to a stop. Memories of that night flood my mind, and a roaring starts in my ears.
“What’s he talking about?” Bash asks, looking at me.
I ignore him, keeping my eyes locked on our father. “What about it?” I manage to keep my chin from wobbling, but just barely.
Dad inches closer, a malicious grin on his face. He’s gazing at me as if I’m nothing but prey. “What do you think would happen if the authorities received an anonymous tip about your activities that night?”
I shrug, but internally I’m reeling. I wish Marlowe were here, or one of the others.
Someone who could help me, who could reassure me that my father’s threats are empty.
Anyone besides my brother, who is looking between the two of us for an explanation—an explanation he’s not going to get, at least not from me, and hopefully not from our father either.
“Are you seriously trying to blackmail me down the aisle, Dad?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“If that’s the only way to get you down it, I’ll do whatever it takes.” His smile widens, revealing blindingly white teeth. “I’m resourceful like that.”
“Just be careful when you send in that anonymous tip. Some guns backfire.” I have no idea if it’ll work, but it’s worth a shot. It’s the only leverage I have left.
He pauses, his eyes narrowing. Finally, his features shift, and he takes a step back. “I will not be spoken to like that. You are the most ungrateful bitch I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t you dare talk to my sister like that,” Bash says, moving around me.
I grab his jacket. “Bash, don’t. He’s not worth it.”
Jaw clenched, he allows me to lead him backward, although he keeps his gaze locked on our father and smacks his fist into his palm.
Turning back to Dad, I keep my voice as neutral as possible. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed in me. I tried my best, I swear. You can disinherit me, empty my trust fund, spread all the nasty rumors about me that you want. But I’m done letting you control me.”
I shake my head and inhale deeply. “I’ve tried to make you and Mum happy, but I finally realized that’s not my job. The only person I can make happy is myself, so that’s what I’m doing. You may not understand or approve, but that’s no longer going to keep me from doing what I need to for myself.”
My father glares at me, but some of the red has seeped out of his face, leaving a bright pink behind. “We have given you everything,” he snaps. “And this is how you repay us?”
“I’m grateful for the privileges I’ve had, but none of it is worth living my life in constant fear of letting you down,” I say.
Scoffing, he places both hands on his hips. “This is bullshit. We’re your parents.”
I feel Bash move closer, the heat of him touching the back of my arm. “Then act like it, and get the hell out of here,” he says.
“Watch it, son.” Dad points a finger at Bash’s face. “Don’t think I haven’t seen what you’ve been up to lately.”
Bash folds his arms over his chest and stares coolly back at him. I’ve always envied the casual way he stands up to both our parents, but maybe it’s not as hard as it looks. I’ve held my ground so far.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think,” Bash says. “So look all you want, old man.”
Dad’s face turns crimson again. Before the two of them can get into it, I move toward the door.
“It’s time for you to go, Oliver,” I say, opening it.
A look of shock crosses his face, and I straighten my shoulders. It’s time to fight my battles instead of cowering from them. I nod toward the hallway.
He stalks out of the room the same way he barged into it, and I know we’ll be having many more of these fights in the future. Hopefully, each time will only bolster my courage, even more proof that I can handle myself.
After he’s gone, I turn back to Bash. “Thanks for being here.”
He leans against one of the bed posters. “What agreement was he talking about?”
“Nothing,” I say, and take a deep breath. “It was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
I wave my hand and hope to god he doesn’t press the issue. I’ve had enough fighting for one day. “You weren’t there. It’s not a big deal.”
Bash pushes off the bed and walks closer. “Obviously it is if he was trying to use it to force you to get married.”
I bite my lip as I meet his eyes. It terrifies me how close Dad came to being successful. “We can talk about it later. Right now, we have a mess to clean up.”
Bash lets out a little chuckle and rubs his knuckles against my head again. “That’s where you’re wrong, little sis. You have a mess to clean up.”