Blissful Hook by Hannah Cowan
Chapter 19
I squeeze Tyler's thigh tightly at Allen's demeaning words as a familiar fire lights up, deep in my chest. "I see you've mistaken my kindness for stupidity," I laugh softly and take a sip from the glass of water in front of me to clear my throat.
Allen's brows raise as he eyes me, his distaste for the entire conversation written clearly on his less than appealing features. I can't say that I'm surprised. He doesn't seem like the type of guy to hide his emotions very well.
"And how did I do that?" he scoffs. The glasses and cutlery rattles when he slams his hands down on the white clothed table.
This guy is barking up the wrong tree. I don't know who the hell he thinks he is—talking to me as though I am nothing but a random girl his stepson snuck into his house after his bedtime—but I do know that I sure as hell won't put up with it.
"I may not know a damn thing about you, Allen. But it isn't hard to see that you radiate toxic masculinity. Not to mention that your lack of respect for not only your son but also the girl he brought with him tonight is extremely offensive." My face flushes when I finish, embarrassed by the various sets of eyes gawking curiously at our table, marvelling at the lack of manners I have shown. I guess I should just let them stare. The only eyes I care about right now are the deep brown ones currently burning holes into the side of my head.
"One last thing," I continue. "If anyone is going to be doing you a favour tonight, it will be Tyler by keeping me under control before I end up saying something I really shouldn't."
I barely manage to finish speaking before my breath catches in my throat.
A large hand wraps around mine, sending familiar tingles up my arm, letting me know that it's Tyler's. I peek over at him, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, when he starts rubbing his thumb along my palm.
He looks at me fiercely, a deep feeling lighting up his eyes but as he turns back to his step-dad, the light fades.
"You really know how to pick them, don't you, boy?" Allen fumes at Tyler.
"So does Mom," Tyler spits.
My stomach forms a knot as I feel the air tighten around us. It’s almost suffocating.
Allen smashes his fist against the table. The dishes clatter once more. Red wine spills from the rim of our glasses and soaks into the expensive silk tablecloth.
"Tyler, come on. Not here. Don't embarrass me," River warns, his voice low and threatening. He rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers at a nearby waitress.
Nora sits still in her seat, dead silent. She picks at the skin around her fingernails, not paying any attention to the scene in front of her. My frustration only grows when I see how Tyler is staring at her, silently begging her for help.
The waitress pales as she rushes over to the table. River waves his hand aggressively and snapsorders at her. "So, Gracie," he says with a sigh as the stained tablecloth is being replaced with a clean one. "What is a gorgeous, strong-worded woman like yourself doing here with my little brother of all people?"
"I just really didn't want to spend a night away from him, if I'm honest." The words flow far too easily from my lips. The truth behind them is embarrassingly clear to the entire table, Tyler included.
"How much did he pay you to say that?" River chuckles. His arrogance makes my skin crawl. "With that new hockey contract he just signed, I'm sure no number was too high for looking good with you by his side tonight."
"Keep your mouth shut," Tyler snaps. He shakes his head incredulously. He pushes his chair back and stands up, pulling me out of my seat as he does so. River mutters something under his breath that I don’t care enough to listen to. I take a step towards Tyler and give his hand a squeeze. "I don't even know why I came here. It's always the same shit," he spits before turning to look at me, his expression softening slightly. "Let's go."
I nod my head in agreement and narrow my eyes at the people who dare to call themselves his family. We spin around and start walking side by side through the restaurant. Neither one of us turns back.
His body tenses beside me as the hushed whispers meet our ears, a quick, bitter reminder that we're not yet alone. He lets out a low growl beside me and flips the bird to an overly curious daddy's boy muttering about us a few tables away.
"I need a smoke."
He really does need to kick that habit. Although I don't think my commentary would really help the situation right now.
"We're almost outside," I say gently. The automatic doors slide open a few seconds later. The cold breeze blows over my bare skin as shudders rack furiously through my body.
"Stop," He comes to an abrupt halt beside me. I look over and grin as he shrugs his shoulders out of his suit jacket. He avoids my eyes as he takes a step behind me, holding the jacket out as an invitation to slip my arms through the sleeves. Heat rushes to my cheeks, the fading light of the sun hides my flush as I slide my arms into his jacket. It's warm and smells like him—like whiskey and the same spiced cologne he has worn since we first met. The familiarity washes over me, and my heart rate speeds up to an abnormal rate. He lets out an awkward cough and darts his eyes around the parking lot.
"Thank you." I smile up at him and slide my hand in his once again, the long sleeves of his jacket bunching at my wrist.
We reach his truck quickly, and he slowly drops my hand and places his own atop the cold body of the truck. I stand silently beside him as he lets out a deep breath and leans on his hands. My brain selfishly decides that now is the perfect time to check him out as my eyes rake over the muscles cording through the thin material of his white dress shirt as his grip tightens on the hood. The veins in his hands pop out as he clenches them, his teeth grinding together. I stay rooted to the spot and play with the cuffs of his jacket.
As much as I want to ask him how he's doing, I know he won't talk unless he wants to. This was no doubt embarrassing for him—to have his family behave like such assholes in front of everyone in that damn restaurant. I wasn't expecting tonight to go well by any means, considering how against going he was in the first place. But I definitely wasn't expecting it to go that badly.
River is a complete pompous ass, and although his mom didn't seem bad when I first met her, I can honestly say that I can't stand the woman now. And then there's Allen. Everything about that man screamed skeevy. From his greasy hair to his yellow teeth, there wasn't a single nice thing about him. The snide remarks, the menacing looks, and the intimidating aura were enough to send shivers through my entire body—and not the good kind. My heart aches for Tyler, knowing he had to grow up in that kind of family—in that house. It isn't fair. He deserves so much better than this, than what he had.
He pushes himself off the truck and slams the hood. I don't have time to prepare myself before his hand grabs my hip and pulls me to him, leaving a small step between us. He finally meets my eyes again and inhales deeply through his nose.
"I'm sorry you were there for that. I should have never brought you," he murmurs, the brown of his eyes deep, melted chocolate as they twinkle under the parking lot lights. I place my hand on his chest and slowly drag it upward until his strong jaw rests in the palm of my hand. The warm skin stings my cold fingers as they rub over a long scar hiding in the overgrown stubble.
Questions pop up in my brain, demanding to be asked and answered as I stare at him, hoping he'll tell me what I want to know. His lips part and Adam's apple bobs. For a moment I think that he’s about to tell me everything, but he shakes his head and says, "Let's get in the truck."
My heart drops to my feet when he brushes me off and moves towards his door without sparing me a second look.
I was so freaking close.
After a silent half-hour truck ride, Tyler pulls up in front of my towering apartment building. The quiet, droning rap song plays from the speakers, but provides no sense of comfort. We both sit awkwardly in our seats, neither of us wanting to make the first move. I peer out the window and watch the groups of people walking down the sidewalk, most of them carrying expensive purses or wearing designer suits. A wave of nausea rolls over me and I grip my knee. Since when did I become a girl that lives in a penthouse, pretending I'm not a broke dance teacher using my brother's money to stay afloat?
"You okay?" Tyler asks quietly, turning to face me.
I nod my head and pull my hand away from my knee before brushing an invisible hair away from my face. "Are you?"
"They didn't used to be like that," he sighs, gripping the steering wheel. "My mom and River, I mean."
I raise my brow and turn my body towards him with my hands in my lap. "I didn't think they did," I whisper.
He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes out a harsh breath. "He ruined us. Allen is the reason we all struggle with addiction. He forced that on us. We didn't choose it. "
I stare at him, head tilted and confusion running rampant in my mind. Addictions? With Allen, it's clear to see, but everyone else? Not so much.
He must sense my confusion because he quickly blurts out an explanation. "River can't go a day without a bag of white dust in his suit pocket, and my mom can't sleep at night without draining an entire bottle of Vodka."
My lips part and my jaw drops slightly, his words taking me by surprise.
"Looks can be deceiving, I know," he chuckles darkly. His gaze is fixed on the trees lining the painted road in front of us.
"Where does that leave you then? What's your so-called addiction?" I ask curiously. My skin flares when he turns and locks his eyes with mine, my heart thrashing against my bones, blood thumping away in my veins.
"You, Gray. I think I'm addicted to you."