Own the Wind (Chaos, #1)(57)

“Don’t bullshit me,” he returned. “That shit started when I came down on you unjustified.”

I felt my grin leave me and I leaned in in an effort to cushion the blow when I admitted, “Yeah.”

I watched a shadow drift over his face so I went on quickly.

“But Shy, darlin’, it would have happened anyway. Maybe differently but anyone at that age goes on a journey to discover who they are. You did and it took you to Chaos. I did and, in a roundabout way, it brought me back home and to you.”

The shadow lifted but only slightly before he said softly, “First, what I gotta live with is it took you away from me and led you to that guy. Yeah, babe, it led you back to me but I almost lost you and, in the meantime, you had to suffer losing everything. Second, and what’s on my mind right now, I do not want you goin’ back there for any reason and lettin’ what I did get under your skin.”

I shook my head and leaned so close, my breasts brushed his arm and I lifted a hand to rest on his chest. “Shy, that’s done. All of it. Jason’s gone and that’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just what life had in store for me. And we’re past that bad history we had. It is not gonna come back.”

“The shit Mom left Dad for he did to her in college. Over a f*ckin’ decade before she left him for it.”

There it was.

“I’m not your mom, darlin’,” I told him carefully.

“Shit festers,” he repeated.

“They died,” I announced and that pain he thought he hid behind grins or casual conversations, shot through his eyes. Still, I pushed on, “They didn’t leave you, Shy. They died. I promised I wouldn’t leave you and, honestly, you strong-arm my landlord against my wishes and haul me around where you want me to be, and if there were reasons for me to be pissed, for us to butt heads, somewhere along the line in the last month, with our personalities, they would have come up. But I get that’s you. You get whatever it is is me and we both know what we have. We also know how it feels not to have it, so we don’t let that shit get in between.”

His brows went up. “You don’t like it when I haul your ass around?”

“At first, it freaked me.” I grinned again. “Now, I think it’s kinda hot.”

He studied me a moment before his eyes cleared and his lips twitched.

I let my smile fade and pressed my hand into his chest.

“I’m not leaving you, Shy. You’re not gonna lose me, because to do that I’d lose you, and that isn’t going to happen.”

He held my eyes two beats, I saw his turn warm and intent then he whispered, “You’re the f*ckin’ shit, Tabby.”

“I know,” I told him airily on another smile. “My man tells me that all the time.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth and his lips ordered, “Kiss me, baby.”

There it was. All was good.

I leaned forward and did what he told me.

He tasted of beer with a hint of tequila.

All Shy.

All mine.

All amazing.

*

We stayed at the honky-tonk for more beers, dinner, and ten games of pool. I won four, Shy won six. However, the bet we’d waged this time was a lot more interesting and included me sucking him off regularly.

Since I did it regularly already and I liked it, this was not a hardship, and I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I threw that last game purposefully.

I was thinking about giving him his winnings when he let us into my apartment, my thoughts so pleasantly occupied I didn’t notice the kitchen light was on. I also didn’t notice Shy stop dead until I ran into him.

“Shy, darlin’, what on—?” I started, stepping to his side and following his gaze toward the kitchen.

What I saw made me go statue-still.

Kane Allen, my dad, was sitting on a bar stool.

I was his daughter, but Dad was hot in a way that even I knew he was serious hot. Dark hair salted with a bit of silver. A kick-ass biker goatee that was long at the chin that also had some light in it. He gave me my eyes, sapphire blue, his, I knew, could be warm or piercing. He had a big body that his good genes kept fit, since he sure as heck didn’t work out and drank and ate what he wanted. He also had lines going out from his eyes that I loved because they deepened when he laughed.

He was not laughing now.

He had his heels up to the highest rung on the bar stool, his legs splayed wide, elbows to his thighs, a bottle of beer held loosely in both hands and his eyes to us.

He knew. I knew he knew by the feel of the room and the look on his face.

He knew.

Oh God.

“Dad—” I started, taking two steps toward him.

“Pete told me,” he cut me off, and his tone made me stop dead. “My daughter didn’t tell me. Pete came by here yesterday mornin’ for a visit, saw Shy leave. Saw you two suckin’ face by Shy’s bike. Pete sat on that for a night, wonderin’ if he should tell me. Then he told me.”

I pulled in breath and opened my mouth to say something, but Dad got there before me.

“Lied to me. Lied to Tyra. Your brother. My brothers.” His eyes moved to pierce Shy. “Your brothers.”

My blood ran cold and I began, “We just—”

“Lied,” Dad clipped, putting his beer bottle next to the three that were already on the counter indicating he’d been there for a while and then he straightened from the stool, his eyes going back to Shy.