“Not if I can help it,” I say. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go talk. I’ll drive you back here or to your grandfather’s afterwards if that’s what you want.”
“I can drive.” She flings the towel to the counter, grabs her coat and purse and storms ahead of me without saying another word to anyone.
They’ve all got concerned looks on their faces.
“Go fix things,” Daphne whispers even though Violet’s already outside.
“I’m tryin’, Mrs. Gates.”
“Mom,” she corrects. “And we expect you and your brother William here on Christmas, right?”
“I’m not about to ruin your holiday if Violet doesn’t want me here.” I raise my hands defensively.
“Then best get to fixin’ things before Christmas,” Violet’s grandfather calls from the other room.
I attempt a smile for these nice people, people I’ve hoped would eventually feel like family to me. I head out the door after saying goodbye.
Violet stands in the driveway talking to her father. He’s parked behind her Land Rover, and it looks like they’re in a stand-off. Violet’s hands are propped on her hips.
“Go on. Leave the keys ‘n we’ll drop your car off wherever it needs to go later on. Hey Kill.” He greets me as I head down the driveway.
“Just move your car, please, Dad. Then I won’t need anyone to drop the car off to me.”
“Stop bein’ difficult. It’s clear you’re not plannin’ on going with him, that you’re planning on doin’ a runner. Why couldn’t you have had this much sass when you were with that knucklehead? That’s what I wanna know!”
Violet’s expression drops and Kev’s fire dims a little. He looks at her with remorse.
I wrap an arm around her and that’s when her father reaches out and snatches the keys from her hand.
“Hey!” she cries out.
“Hey, baby… just come to dinner and I’ll drive you back later. I’m not tryin’ to stress you out or make you fight with your family. Just dinner and a conversation, then I’ll drive you back unless you decide differently.”
Violet lets out a frustrated growl and aims her stare at the pavement. “If you’re not trying to stress me out, why are you here? Why aren’t you just giving this up and leaving instead of trying to corner me in front of them?”
I raise my hands defensively. “I’m sorry. Sorry, baby.” I back away. “I apologize, Kev. It wasn’t my intention to cause problems. I’ll go.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Kev mutters, grabbing Violet’s hand.
He then marches her to the passenger door of my SUV and pulls the handle. “Get in there and go have dinner and a conversation with your fuckin’ husband. If you need, I’ll come pick you up. All right?” He glares at his daughter.
Her jaw goes slack in shock.
“Have a conversation, munchkin. If you’re done with him, you’re done but at least talk about it. She hasn’t told me she’s done, Kill, and I just asked point-blank before you walked out here, so there seems to be a chance here.”
“Dad!” Violet gasps.
“Get in, kiddo. Unless you’re done. Are you done? If you’re done, say so and this conversation is over and he’ll leave.”
She climbs into the passenger seat and puts her seatbelt on, then shuts the door and folds her arms across her chest.
Hm. Hope flares in me.
Kev huffs impatiently. “There. Done. Have a good evening.” He slaps my back.
“Thank you, Kev,” I say, rounding my hood. “I owe you.”
“I like expensive cigars,” he says, winking at me.
Violet stares straight ahead, arms folded, lips pursed.
“Remind me to do something nice for your parents later,” I joke as I close my door and reach for my seatbelt. “They still have a mortgage? Maybe I’ll pay it off.”
She glares straight ahead. “The only reason they’re on your side is because I’ve downplayed things. If they had any idea…”
She lets that hang, her tone filled with accusation.
My smirk falls off. “Fair enough. I just want some time to talk.”
“Whatever.”
It’s good seeing fire in her right now. It’s better than broken, like last night.
And obviously her family isn’t willing to be quiet bystanders after what happened with Violet and Fuckface. Seems multiple lessons have been gleaned from the Ass-wipe era.
It’s a quick and silent drive back home, but the tension is crackling between us in the elevator heading up.
Everything about her body language bothers me. She cradles her elbows. Her shoulders are slumped. Her eyes are pointed at her feet.
When we get inside, it takes everything in my power to stop myself from taking her into my arms and carrying her to bed so I can hold her close. God, I’ve missed her so fucking much.
She shrugs her coat off and drapes it and the strap of her bag over a dining chair. Her eyes are pointed at the table. I’d left the candles burning while I was gone. She eyeballs the chopsticks.
“I’ll heat the food up.”