Chapter 16
Shock mixed with anger, and it took everything Lucas had not to grab his father by the collar and toss his ass out the door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Is that any way to greet your father?” He was as smug as he’d always been, his white linen shirt starched and perfectly pressed, tucked neatly into his tan pants. A navy blue and red striped tie secured in a Windsor knot hung from his neck.
“I could think of a few more colorful things to say if you prefer.”
His father slipped out of his sports coat and draped it over his arm. “I see you haven’t learned any manners since the last time we spoke.”
“The last time we spoke I made it perfectly clear I never wanted to see you again.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“So why the hell are you here?”
“It’s funny. I was speaking with your mother, and she mentioned your little trip.”
“And what? You thought you’d come here, and we could have a happy family reunion? Sorry to have wasted your time, but I have nothing to say to you.”
“Maybe you don’t, but I’m sure my father has plenty.”
“And after twenty-six years you suddenly care what he has to say?”
“What can I say? I’ve had a change of heart.”
Lucas’ lip curled. “You’re so full of shit it’s practically coming out of your ears.” Lucas ran a hand across his neck, trying to work out the growing tension. No matter how much or how hard he rubbed it didn’t help. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?” He met his father’s eyes, years of anger and resentment building inside him. “Better yet. I don’t give a shit. Why don’t you just leave? You’re not welcome here anyway.”
Hot fury burned Lucas’ blood, he could practically feel it boiling beneath the surface. The last thing he wanted was to subject Ella to him. He needed to get his father out of this house before she awoke and before Joe came home.
There was no way his father had a change of heart. The man didn’t have a heart. He was a calculated man who only did things that benefited himself. He had an angle, and Lucas needed to figure it out before he got caught in the crosshairs.
He was about to demand he leave again when he heard soft footsteps on the stairs. He wanted to run, scoop Ella up in his arms, and bring her back to the room, lock the door and make sure she stayed there until he figured this out.
But she was at the landing before he could get his feet to move. She came to the bottom, dressed in only his t-shirt, hair ruffled from his hands. “Lucas?” she said and came around the bend, stopping short as she took in his father.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. Shock filled her eyes and slashed across her features. “I didn’t know you were expecting company.”
“I wasn’t,” he growled.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the young lady?” his father said, and it took more self-control than Lucas knew he possessed not to jump in front of her and hide her from him.
He turned to Ella, gaze filled with curiosity.
“Ella, this is my father.”
***
Those were the last words Ella ever expected to hear come out of Lucas’ mouth, and by the angry set of his jaw, this visit wasn’t planned. She wanted to reach out and take Lucas’ hand, squeeze it for reassurance, but he was a wall of stone.
“Mr. Prescott,” she said, walking toward him and holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The older gentleman that Lucas clearly got his looks from stared down at her hand and smirked. “Maybe you should go put some pants on.”
Ella looked down at her bare legs, embarrassment spreading through her. She yanked at her hem and backed away. “Good idea.”
“No,” Lucas said, turning to his father. “You’re not staying.”
“It’s all right,” Ella said. “I should get going anyway.”
“No!”
Ella met his blue gaze, dark with too many emotions. “You should talk to your dad,” she said. If she could get her brothers in the same room with their dad it would be a damn miracle. Mr. Prescott did the hard work by coming here, now Lucas just needed to take that tiny step. Maybe at the end, things would be better, or maybe they would be worse, but they would never know if they didn’t try.
“I have nothing to say to him,” Lucas growled.
Ella cupped his cheeks, looking deep into his eyes. “I think you do.”
“Ella?” Mr. Prescott said, and Ella dropped her hands back to her sides, turning to look at him. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her face. “Ella as in Vinny Jr. and Maria’s daughter?”
“Yes,” she said.
Mr. Prescott let out a loud sadistic laugh. “You’re screwing a Moretti?” he said, turning to Lucas. “That’s low even for you.”
Lucas went at him, fists coming up, and Ella jumped in front of him, grabbing his hand and forcing it down. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding together. “Look at me,” Ella said and with an angry whip of his head, he did. “Stop.”
“He insulted you.”
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. He doesn’t know me.”
She heard Mr. Prescott scoff behind her, but she ignored him. She didn’t care about what he thought of her, but she did care about Lucas finding the closure she didn’t think he ever really had.
“Talk to him,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because there might not be hope for my family, but there may be some for yours.”
“I doubt that.”
“Please.” She met his intense gaze, a battle of wills playing out when finally, he dropped his head.
“Fine, but if he says one more thing about you.”
Lucas’ eyes shot to his father, and Mr. Prescott held up his hands in understanding.
She lifted on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you later,” she said before walking away.
“Mr. Prescott,” she said as she got to the first step. “I hope you can look beyond your prejudices and realize your son is a great man, and you’d be an idiot to take that for granted.” She went to leave it at that, walk up the stairs, and hope to never see the man again, but that’s not what she wanted at all. She stopped and turned back, catching his gaze. “Maybe one day we’ll meet again and you won’t judge me because of my last name. I look forward to it.”
With her head held high, she hurried up the stairs, making sure to keep her hands firmly on the hem of her shirt to prevent it from rising higher on her legs than it already was.
Her last name already put a picture in Mr. Prescott’s head, and she didn’t want to live up to that dreadful image.