Hard to Fight (Alpha's Heart, #1)(32)

“I’m tired of them!” I yell. “I’m still your daughter,” I spit to my mother. “I’m still your sister,” I spit to Gretchen. “How dare you treat me so badly because I’m not who you want me to be!”

“Make her stop, Daddy!” Gretchen squeals at my father. “She pulled my hair out. Oh my God, my hair.”

When my dad speaks, his voice is like a whip. It’s a tone I’ve never heard him use with them. “I love you all, you’re my family, but if I ever have to listen to you taunt Gracie like that again, so help me God, I’ll drop you all on your skinny, pretty asses and leave you with f*cking nothing!” He’s roaring now. “Because if it wasn’t for me, you’d have no beauty queen lifestyle.” Then he turns his gaze to my mother. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I’ve never been embarrassed to call you my wife until right now.”

Her mouth drops open and her bottom lip quivers as Dad turns us both and practically carries me out the front door. He takes me to his car and guides me to the front seat, and I don’t dare protest. He gets into the driver’s side and takes off with the squealing of wheels. His fingers are tight around the steering wheel and his jaw is ticking. My dad is a big, scary man when he wants to be.

“Dad?” I whisper.

He says nothing, his eyes are intense, and he’s angry. I know he’s angry.

“Daddy?” I try again.

“Didn’t know, I didn’t —”

“Dad—”

“I didn’t know she spoke to you like that. I knew what they were, but I never … I never knew it was like that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper.

“Like f*ck it isn’t!” he barks.

I flinch. Dad doesn’t swear. He doesn’t yell. He’s always so calm.

“Dad,” I try again.

He pulls the car over into a deserted parking lot and turns to me, he reaches over, taking my face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t know she was so … cold.”

I know he didn’t know, because he’s usually hiding in his shed when I’m in the house with them, and usually they keep their comments mild around him. Today, Mom thought he wasn’t there. So she let rip.

“It was just because her friends were there—it’s okay.”

“Okay?” he says, letting his eyes scan my face. “Gracie, it’s never okay to speak to your own child the way she just did.”

“Dad, please,” I say, and my voice hitches.

He narrows his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Stop swearing, it’s not like you.”

“Fuck,” he repeats as if he didn’t hear me. “They’ve screwed with your head, haven’t they?”

God, he looks so pained. So guilty.

“No, I just had a bad day.”

He narrows his eyes. “Damned bad, by the look in your eyes.”

I nod and my bottom lip trembles.

“Jesus, princess.”

He pulls me into his arms and I burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears. It doesn’t matter how old you get, there’s always a time you need your dad. I cling to him, fingers curled into his shirt, and I cry until my body is doing nothing more than jerking silently.

He pulls me back and stares at my face, his eyes now soft, all the anger gone. “What happened?”

I swallow. I can’t tell him. He’d never understand.

“Gracie, you know you can tell me anything.”

I look down. “It’s just been a bad week.”

“You’re lying to me, honey.”

Dad. He knows everything.

“Please,” I say. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just needed … someone.”

He nods. “Understand that.”

I force a broken smile.

His phone rings. He stares down at it, and I can see my mother’s name flashing on the screen. He looks pained, because I know he cares about her, and what he just saw ripped his heart out.

“Answer it,” I say softly. “You know she didn’t mean it, Dad. She … she’s trying to be something I don’t think she is, either.”

He stares at the phone, I’m not even sure he heard me. He hangs up the call without answering. He’s hurt. “I don’t care if it’s not who she is, she’s your mother, Grace.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s always favored the other two girls. Always treated you differently.”

“Dad,” I say softly. “You’ve always favored me. It’s not really all that different.”

He stares up at me now. “Maybe, but I’d never, ever disrespect those girls.”

No, he wouldn’t.

My phone rings now, and I pull it out of my purse to see my mother’s name flashing on the screen. I contemplate answering it. I look over to Dad, and his face is hard again. I hang up, too, and shove the cell phone back into my purse. “Let’s go have a beer.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “A beer?”

“Yeah, a beer.”

He grins, and I feel some of the stress leave my body. “Okay, honey.”

Beer fixes everything.

*

I’ve had three beers with Dad when my phone rings again. I stare down at the screen to see Don’s name. Oh God, it must be over. They must have caught Raide and brought him in. Something angry twists in my chest as I lift the phone and press it to my ear. “Hey, Don.”