Diary of a Bad Boy(100)

Roark





SUTTON





“Dad, stop.” I pull my arm away and try to go out the door to find Roark. Why I allowed my dad to usher me back into the restaurant is beyond me.

“Sutton Grace, do not go out that door, because you owe me an explanation. A very long one.” His voice booms into my ear, silent to the people around us, but clear to me with his close proximity.

“I need to check on him.”

“The more we keep our distance, the better. They have a private room for us in the back. Find your seat at the table while I handle something.”

He’s stern and his eyes read “don’t fuck with me.”

So even though I want nothing more than to run after Roark and see if he’s okay, I know my dad won’t tolerate me leaving this restaurant without an explanation.

But the decision isn’t easy as I chew on my bottom lip and look toward the door.

“Sutton Grace, do not cross me.”

Growing frustrated with my dad’s attempt to turn me back into a little girl, I lean closer and say, “I’m a grown woman, Dad, so start treating me like one.”

“I will when you start acting like one,” he snips back and then motions to the back of the restaurant noiselessly, as all eyes are trained on us.

Knowing my dad’s image is very important, I succumb to his demands and head to the room where Whitney is sitting nervously, her hands twisting in her lap, her eyes watery.

When I shut the heavy curtain, I take a seat at the table and rest my head in my hands. Whitney is immediately at my side, hand on my back.

“Sutton, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I let that slip.”

“It had to come out at some point.” I sigh and turn toward her. “I should have told him a while ago.” I bring my phone from my purse and start to type out a text message when Dad comes breezing through the curtain. He doesn’t take a seat right away but instead paces the little space, his giant stride eating up the beautifully polished hardwood floors.

Finally, he stops and stares down at me, hands on his hips. “Care to explain what was going on? I just had to promise that man VIP tickets to the first Steel’s game this season so he didn’t press charges against Roark.”

Why is he paying off someone who assaulted me?

“Dad, he was—”

“What the hell were you thinking, Sutton? First of all, the man is eight years older than you.”

“Dad—”

He holds up his hand. “Second, he’s my agent. He handles a very important part of my business, so why would you get involved with someone who’s such a vital attribute to my livelihood?”

I bite back a remark, tears starting to brim in my eyes.

“And third, even though I respect his business techniques, his personal life is less than anything I would ever approve of for my daughter, and you should have known that. And tonight, sadly, proves he won’t change. The man can’t go a week without getting in a fight. I’ve known him for a long time and I’ve seen many black eyes on his face, so what in your right mind thinks it’s a good idea to go out with him? He’s a rebel, Sutton, someone who will forever be selfish when it comes to his temper.” He grips the back of his neck with both hands and pulls on it, his arms bulging with tension. “Christ, what the hell were you thinking?”

What was I thinking? I was thinking and still think that there’s a beautifully broken man who I fell in love with and there was nothing I could do to stop it. And nothing would make me change my opinion of the man I love.

Growing up on the ranch while my dad was in New York, playing out his football seasons year after year, I was partially raised by my grandparents, but was always told to mind my father even though he couldn’t be near me. And I took that to heart, because during the off-season, he was present. He might have been an unconventional father with his work schedule, but there never was a time I crossed him because even over the phone, he would give me a tongue-lashing to remember.

But in this moment, with my dad acting so hopelessly wrong, I strap on my big girl boots and stand up to him, ready to—for the first time—put him in his place.

Sucking back the tears, trying my best to leave the soppy emotion out of this, I say, “What have you always told me about reacting, Dad?” He makes eye contact with me, but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “You’ve told me time and time again that before I react, I need to get all the facts. Well, it’s time you got the facts.”

Feeling calmer, I sit taller in my seat and gesture to the chair next to me. “Take a seat, Dad.” I wait for a few seconds as he decides what to do. In the end, he’s an honourable man and pulls out the chair. His large body swallows the wooden seat as he rests his arm on the table. His stature alone is intimidating, but his eyes say it all—they always have—he’s not happy. I plan on changing that.

“Roark and I started dating a little over a month ago.” His jaw ticks. “It wasn’t something we were planning on. Honestly, I despised him when I first met him, but over time, something happened between us, a shift in our relationship, an appreciation for one another, the same kind of shift I’m sure you had with Whitney.”

He glances over at Whitney who places her hand on my arm, encouraging me to keep going.