I ignored Laurel’s mother when she opened the door, instead, zooming in on Laurel, who looked devastated.

Which really pissed me off.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, clenching my teeth when she shook her head sadly.

“Dillon Lewis,” her mother began haughtily. “What’s the meaning of this?”

I brushed past her, not bothering to respond, and did what I’d been wanting to do since I left her standing on the street. I pulled Laurel into my arms and held her tightly against me. My hands came to her back and I rubbed my hand in small circles as she sagged against me.

“What’s going on?”

I looked over Laurel’s head to see her father striding toward us, his glasses slightly skewed.

“You’ve upset your daughter, Mr. Turner,” I replied angrily. “Although I shouldn’t be surprised, it seems the only way you know how to treat her is badly.”

“Well,” her mother huffed, while her father’s face grew tight.

“I should think your parents taught you better than to come into a man’s home and be disrespectful, son,” her father said.

“I’m not your son,” I bit out. “And, if you treated Laurel with an ounce of respect, maybe you’d get some in return.”

“And who are you to Laurel?” her mother asked, crossing to stand next to her husband. “You’re that Jasmine’s brother, right, so this is none of your concern. It’s family business.”

The way she said my sister’s name had me gnashing my teeth, but I reeled in my temper and turned my attention back to Laurel. Putting my hands on her shoulders, I eased her back slowly and looked down at her face.

Luckily, there were no tears, but the misery there still made me want to punch something, or someone.

I looked back up at her father.

He’d do, I thought, but pushed the violence from my mind and replied, “I’m her friend, and the person who helped her with her business plan. It’s a solid plan, although I’m guessing from her reaction that you didn’t see it that way.”

“They said no,” Laurel stated, then took a deep breath. “Looks like I’ll have to find another way to start my business.”

“You’ll run the flower shop like you’re told,” her father said.

“It’s your duty,” her mother added. “We thought you’d marry Travis and stay in Houston, but since you couldn’t make that work, it’s only right that you take over the family business so your father and I can take a much-needed break.”

“I never said I didn’t want to run the flower shop, I just want to expand it. To use my expertise to offer more than just flowers, is that so wrong?” Laurel asked, standing up tall as she spoke, her tone becoming stronger.

“I didn’t sign my business over to you so you could throw parties,” her father retorted. “It’s a good business the way it is, a part of town history. There’s no reason to change a thing.”

“Wait,” I said, putting a halt to the conversation after Mr. Turner’s admission. “Laurel, are you managing the shop, or did your dad sign it over to you? Legally change the deed from his name to yours?”

I saw her father’s lips flatten into a thin line of displeasure.

“Yes, we changed it over about a month after I got back. They had a trip planned and wanted everything out of the way so that I could legally take care of any issues that arose. Luckily, nothing did.”

I locked eyes with her father, who knew what I was going to say next, and didn’t like it one bit.

“What that means, then, is that Laurel doesn’t need your permission to make any changes or additions. You gave her the shop free and clear, and it is hers to do with as she wishes. Expand it, update, hell, even sell it, if that’s what she wants.”

“How dare you…” her father seethed.

“We gave it to Laurel and expressed our wishes carefully; she knows better than to go against her father,” her mother put in, while Laurel looked back and forth between the two of them with traces of hope.

“Dad, Mom, I did want your approval before I moved ahead, and I guess I was missing the point of what those documents that I signed meant, but if what Dillon is saying is true, then, I’m sorry, but I’m going to run my business as I see fit.”

“We’ll run them by Reardon, just to make sure everything is as it should be,” I told her, then looked back at her parents and said, “I guess we’ll be leaving…”

“Laurel, don’t you dare change one thing … not even a splash of paint,” her father warned. “You know how we want the shop to be run, and, as our heir, you need to heed our wishes.”

“I’m sorry, Dad, but I swear, you’ll see, this expansion is going to be great for business,” Laurel said, pleading with her father to believe her. To believe in her.

“Get out of my sight,” he said, his tone low and firm. Ugly. Then he turned and walked back the way he’d come.

“If you do this, Laurel, if you go against your father and I, you’ll be banned from this house. You won’t be welcome here anymore,” her mother said nastily.

I heard Laurel gasp, and felt a fresh bout of anger slash threw me.

Placing my arm around her shoulder, I said, “Come on, Laurel, let’s go,” turned her around, and led her out of the house.

As we crossed the threshold, I vowed that Laurel would not darken their door again unless they both got their heads out of their asses long enough to be parents and realize what an amazing daughter they had.

I wasn’t going to let them, or anyone else, hurt her again.