Page 8 of He's All In

In my mind, I know I should push Luke away. There’s a chance someone could see us, and it would only be a matter of time before it got back to my father. He has eyes everywhere in this neighborhood, and I’m still on very thin ice with him.

“You made her cry,” I hear Marco accuse while I sniffle and try to wipe my eyes. Luke’s hold on me is firm, and I hate that both of them have seen me cry.

“I didn’t, but I’m going to find out who did.”

“Why, are you gonna do something about it?” There is no missing the challenge in Marco’s words.

It tugs at my heart because he always wants to stand up for me. It’s gotten him hurt before, and I had to plead with him to never step in between our father and me again.

“Yes.” Luke says the word with such finality I almost believe it.

“It’s fine,” I say and then wiggle to try and get out of his hold. “Can you let me go?”

“It’s not fine.” Luke shakes his head but lets me step back.

One of his hands falls to my hip, his fingers gripping me there. He thinks I’m going to bolt, and I probably would, but I don’t think I’d get far. Now I’m not sure how I’m going to shake him.

“Have you heard from Paul?” I try to change the subject, and Luke’s whole body stiffens.

“You don’t need to speak to Paul.”

“Right.” Guilt assaults me. I was praying for a sliver of hope that he dropped out of rehab. If he was back, then I could marry him, but I know that’s selfish. Plus, his dad said he would press charges against him.

“I knew he was a jerk. Now you have to marry Jackson. He’s an asshole.”

“Marco!” I snip at him. “Language.” He rolls his eyes at me, taking a sip of his milkshake.

“You’re marrying someone else?” Luke’s hold on me tightens.

“You wouldn’t understand.” I try to move, but Luke slips his whole arm around me and I feel his hand against my stomach. It takes everything in me not to lean into him.

“Make me understand.” Luke leans down and forces me to meet his gaze. “Is he the one who put these bruises on you?”

“No.” Although he hadn’t stopped it either.

Jackson stood there and watched my father hurt me. It gave me a crystal clear picture of the life I’d have with him if he didn’t flinch when watching a woman be hurt.

“It’s my father,” I finally tell Luke because I know he’s not going to let me go until I confess.

“Your father?” Luke grits his teeth, and his breathing grows heavy. “You live with him?” I nod my head. “I think he and I should have a little talk.”

“No!” I grab ahold of the front of his button-up shirt. “You don’t understand who he is.” Sure, Luke could beat the shit out of my father, but then I’d only get it the next day. And the day after. It’s not worth it.

“I don’t give a fuck who he is.”

“Please,” I beg. My eyes fill with tears that I’m trying so hard to hold back.

Luke lets out a curse under his breath. “Marrying Paul was your way out?”

“Something like that.” It was, but it’s more than only that. Paul and my father had some kind of deal, but I’m not going to tell Luke that. It would only cause more problems. He’d report that back to Paul’s family and then they would dig into my past. God knows what they would find.

“Then you’ll leave.”

“It’s not that easy.” I glance over to Marco, who is watching us both intently, and I swear I see a small spark of hope in his eyes. I hate that it’s going to fade and then there will be nothing I can do to fix it.

“I see.” Luke runs his hand through his short dark hair. “I’ll handle it. For now, you’re both coming with me.”

“I can’t. You don’t get it,” I tell him and dig my heels in.