Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(44)



“It’s more important that Grace is happy with her decisions.” My dad gives me a strained smile, and for the first time it occurs to me that Mom probably told him all about meeting Zach on Sunday. And he’s not freaking out?

“Thanks, Dad.” I could leave it at that. The fact they’ve both finally accepted it’s over between Russell and me is a huge step, but if I don’t say it now, when will I? If being with Zach taught me anything, it’s that I need to stand up for what I believe.

Luckily Great Aunt Dorothy decides to move on to another group of captive relatives, so I take a deep breath and plunge in. “There’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I’m resigning. I’m going to open my own business, the way I’ve always wanted to.”

“Grace, sweetheart.” My dad, who possesses nerves of steel in the boardroom sounds completely out of his depth. “Let’s not rush into anything. We can talk about this next week.”

I nearly agree, especially since a few more relatives have joined us, as though they can smell the blood in the water. Except I’ve put this off for far too long, and it took Zach to make me face it.

“There’s nothing much to discuss. I’ve wanted to do this since I was seventeen, so I’m not rushing into anything. I’m just finally taking control of my own life.”

“We didn’t realize you were so committed to opening your own cupcake shop.” Mom gives Dad’s arm a gentle squeeze. “You haven’t said anything to us about it in years. We thought you were happy at work.”

Did they really? For a moment I think about it, and it’s a shock to realize she’s right. Sure, I took my courses, but I never actually told them how much I grew to resent working in the family business. Why did I always think they knew about my dreams but didn’t care about them?

I take a fortifying sip of my cocktail before making the decision and handing my glass to Charity. I was wrong about how I thought Mom and Dad would react to my resignation. Maybe I’ve always been wrong and they never expected me to always be the good daughter. It was just my eldest child syndrome kicking in.

My heart pounds as I slowly inch my sleeve over my wrist, displaying my delicate iris. Every time I see it I’m going to be reminded of Zach, but I guess in time it will just be bittersweet instead of plain depressing.

Mom hitches in a dramatic gasp and then grips my arm and stares at the tattoo as though she’s never seen one before.

“An iris.” There’s a strange, choked tone in her voice, nothing like the dignified disapproval I’d imagined. “After my mother?” She looks up at me and I’m totally freaked to see she has tears in her eyes.

“Uh, yes. I always wanted to get a tattoo done in her memory.”

“I need a Scotch,” my dad mutters, and a waiter appears like magic.

“It’s…” Mom clearly struggles for words. “It’s very tasteful.”

“Huh,” Charity says. “You didn’t think mine was tasteful.”

It’s a surreal moment. My parents aren’t responding how I thought they would to either my resignation or tattoo. I’ve misjudged them and their expectations of me all these years, and that’s kind of unnerving.

“So, are things serious between you and Zach?” Mom finally releases my arm and Dad swallows his Scotch in one gulp. “Perhaps you’d like to invite him round some time over the weekend?”

Perfect. They’re willing to accept I want to change everything in my life, and now I have to admit the rebel I fell for really was nothing but the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

Before I can think of the right words to say, my cell buzzes and shatters the moment. Thank God I forgot to switch it to mute. I’m so relieved by the distraction I snatch it up and answer before checking the ID.

“Grace?” His voice is little more than a growl in my ear. Zach’s calling me? I should hang up. That’d show him, but I’m frozen to the spot. “Tell your f*cking monkey at the gate to let me in.”





Chapter Seventeen


Zach


She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t cut the call, either, and I pace the sidewalk outside the double gates to the property, where some prick on the other end of the video intercom refused me access. I can see the curved white mansion from the road. It probably has million-dollar views of the ocean and it’s definitely a monumental symbol of the massive gulf between us. There’s a tropical forest surrounding it, as though it’s in the center of its own universe, and all the security cameras in the street are zooming in on me.

“One moment.” Her voice is cool as though she’s speaking to a stranger but it still twists me up inside. When she hangs up I shove my cell back into my pocket and let out a long breath.

I’ve done a lot of crazy shit in my time, but this beats all. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.

The hell I do.

I want to see her again. After Gage left me wallowing in a pit of black coffee, it came down to a choice of getting hammered at the club with the usual diet of porn and *, or getting on my bike and riding here.

*-whipped. It’s a hell of an insult, but the truth is, right down at the core, my dad was. And so is Jett. Not that anyone would ever accuse them of it, unless they wanted to lose their balls.

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