Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
My hands tremble. I look at Reagan, and my voice cracks. “I need to call my dad.”
She doesn’t question, just nods and guides me through the labyrinth of cables and bodies to a quiet service corridor. I punch in the number with fingers that barely work.
He picks up before the first ring is done.
“Where the fuck are you?” Chief’s voice is low, controlled, but ready to break glass.
“I’m at Reagan’s...”
I know it’s a bad idea because deep down, I know why he’s calling, so lying to him is only going to make it worse.
I’m right.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Chief bellows. “I saw the footage, Violet. You and him on stage, kissing.”
I glance down the corridor. “Dad, please don’t—”
His voice leaps up, jagged. “Do you know how many videos have been sent to my phone tonight? How stupid I felt? I trusted him. I trusted you.”
Heat crawls up my throat. “Dad—”
“No, Violet. You are coming home tonight. And you’re bringing him. Right now. I will not ask again. Either you come home, or I’ll come get you myself, and believe me, if I come there, you won’t like how it ends.”
There’s a beat, then another. I can hear banging and movement in the background on his end, like he’s already reaching for his keys.
“Daddy...”
“Now.”
The line goes dead.
I stand in the silence for a moment, my heart racing so fast I fear I might actually pass out. Bile rises in my throat. Could this day get any worse? Chief finding out about us like this was never how it should have been, and that’s on me. I should have told him, like my mom told me to. He loves Travis, trusts him, so that alone is a big enough kick in the gut.
Reagan steps closer, reaching out and squeezing my hand. “Vi?”
I swallow. “He knows. I have to go. We have to go.”
She blinks, then her chin lifts. “Do you want me to come with you?”
I shake my head. “No. You stay. I’ll call you as soon as it’s...” I stop. I can’t say fixed. I can’t say over. “As soon as I can.”
I find Travis waiting, his eyes locking on mine and his body going tense the moment he sees me. He knows something is wrong before I even open my mouth.
“Tell me,” he urges, his voice low.
“Chief knows.”
His face falls.
“He saw us.”
“Fuck,” Travis growls, running his hands through his hair.
“He said he wants us both home tonight. If not, he’ll come and get me himself.”
“Fuck. Fuck.”
“I’m afraid,” I admit. “I don’t know what he’s going to do.”
Travis cups my face, forcing a smile. “It’s all good, baby. I’m not scared of Chief. We’ll be fine.”
But as he leads me out to a waiting car and opens the door, I catch a glimpse of his hand shaking.
Nothing ever scares Travis Phoenix.
But my father—my father terrifies him.
13
IT’S RAINING.
Of course it’s raining. It’s as if the universe knows what’s coming.
The flight home isn’t quite as enjoyable as the flight there. Travis and I sit the entire time, both of us staring out the window, lost in our thoughts. By the time we get an Uber to Chief’s house, we’re both swallowing way too rapidly, our breathing heavy. We know this isn’t going to end well, not when it comes to Chief. Not when he loves Travis the way he does.
This, right here, is my biggest fear.
The Uber slows at the driveway, and we both look out to see Chief already standing on the porch, arms crossed, black leather announcing to the world that he gives no fucks and will stand there all night if he has to. I swallow and look to Travis. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll work it out.”
I wish that were true.
The second we open the car doors, Chief is storming toward us.
Not a word. Not a warning. He barrels down the stairs, fist cocked. Travis barely gets two feet toward him before Chief slams him backward into the muddy grass. I scream his name, slip hard in the run-off, just as Travis’s back hits the ground with a sick, dull thud. Dad is a blur above him, face so twisted it doesn’t look like the man I love.
“You motherfucking—” Chief roars, each word a punch as he swings again and connects so hard I hear cartilage crunch. Travis doesn’t block it. He takes it, spits out a mouthful of rain and blood, and stays down.
I fling myself at Chief, all arms and hair and screaming. I claw at his shoulder, shouting, “Stop, you’re going to kill him.” But Chief is pure momentum, hurling another punch. This time Travis rolls to the side, pops up, staggers to his feet. He’s dazed, bleeding under one eye, but he grins. He spits again, red, then laughs, which only makes Chief wilder.
He’s goading him, which is a very bad fucking idea.