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Jessi
I could tell immediately when I got to the shop that there was something wrong. Dad practically flung aside his wrench when he saw me come in the door, and he was standing there, brow furrowed and hands on his hips, by the time I had set down my bag.
I instinctively glanced down at my watch, but I had come straight home after my classes, eager to avoid some sort of confrontation with Ellsmith, since I didn't know if Rip had paid the man a visit yet. I was home earlier than I normally was. There was no reason for him to be so upset.
“J.T. came by to see his bike today,” Dad said.
I frowned. “Did he not like it?” I asked. Rip had shown the man the design, and J.T. had approved it. He'd been approving the photos each step of the way. He couldn't just suddenly decide that he didn't like the projec
“He said he's seen you around the Hounds of Hades clubhouse,” Dad snapped. “Multiple times.”
“Oh.” I felt my heart drop and then begin to beat faster. I should never have been stupid enough to think that Dad wouldn't find out what I'd been up to with Rip. I had always been a good girl. I had never learned how to sneak around and do things in secret.
“Is that all you have to say?” Dad said. He sighed exasperatedly. “Jessi, you're going to college so that you can get out of here and really do something with your life. You know why I didn't want you going into automotive engineering—precisely because I didn't want you ending up with someone like Rip. He's not good enough for you, Jessi. Trust me.”
“Why, because you think he's sleeping around with other girls?” I shot back. “Because he's not. Whatever his reputation is, whatever he used to do before he and I started seeing one another”—that wasn't really what we were doing, but I wasn't about to tell Dad in as many words that we were fucking one another—“he isn't doing any of that anymore. He doesn't want to. He told me so himself.”
“And you don't think that he knows how to lie to a woman?”
I frowned. “Maybe he lies to other women,” I allowed. “But I don't think he was lying to me. And you taught me to be a pretty good judge of character. I'm smart enough not to get myself into a bad situation. I would think you would realize that by now.”
“I told you that I didn't want you to go to the clubhouse,” Dad persisted. “You keep telling me that your education and your work here at the shop is so important to you, but you've been sneaking out after curfew—and I can see the change in your attitude ever since Rip started working here. Considering that, I'm going to have to forbid you from working around the shop until J.T.'s bike is finished and Rip stops coming around here. And if I I hear that you've gone to the clubhouse again-”
“I'm not a little kid!” I interrupted. “You can't just ground me—and you can't keep me from working around the shop, not when I'm the one who designed the bike! And you can't keep me from seeing Rip.”
“Then you're going to need to find somewhere else to live,” Dad threatened. “As long as you live here, under my roof, you will abide by my rules. If you don't want to do that, then you're going to need to leave—and you're going to need to find some other way to pay for your college tuition, because I'm not going to have any part in that.”
“That's not fair,” I said. I was beginning to feel tears at the corners of my eyes, all the frustration and nervousness from the past month beginning to catch up to me. “Dad, I've been working so hard to get good grades and to keep helping out here around the shop and to be the kind of daughter that you can be proud of. And all I'm asking for myself is that I can keep seeing Rip in the few spare moments that I have. He makes me happy, and he's helping me with some things at school, and-”
“I thought you were busting your ass off to get the grades that you're getting,” Dad said. “What's this about him helping you out?”
I ducked my head a little, feeling tears begin to slip down my cheeks. “It's nothing,” I said.
“Clearly it isn't nothing,” Dad said, and I could hear a concerned note in his voice. “What's happening at school? What's wrong?” When I was silent, he sighed. “Jessi, come here,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “Ever since you started at school, you've been so distant,” he said, sounding pained. “And I'm sorry if I've hurt you by not wanting you to take over the business after me. We used to be so close, working together, but ...” He trailed off.
I shuddered a little and hugged him back, trying to quell my tears. “I'm sorry,” I said tearfully. “I've been trying to do well at school and everything else, but I just ...”
“What happened?” Dad asked. “Did you get a bad grade on one of your projects?”
“No,” I said, remembering what he had said about the internship, remembered his surety that Ellsmith wanted something more in return for the special attention that he'd been giving me. I took a deep breath and pulled away, although I didn't dare look Dad in the eyes. “Remember Ellsmith?” I asked.
“What happened?” Dad repeated immediately.
“Nothing happened,” I told him reluctantly. “But he ...wanted something to happen. Between us. Something ...” I swallowed hard, unable to admit that Ellsmith had wanted something sexual to happen between us. God, it was embarrassing to admit anything about this to Rip, let alone to my dad.
Dad swore angrily. “I knew that bastard was up to no good,” he said.
“Dad, it's fine,” I told him. “I have everything ...figured out.”
“Oh?” Dad asked archly. His face suddenly clouded, and I could tell that he had figured out exactly how I had fixed everything. “Rip,” he said.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“You're doing sexual favors to one man to get out of doing sexual favors to another.”
“Dad, no,” I said emphatically. “I like Rip, okay?
He stared at me for a long moment. Of course, that was when Rip chose to saunter into the shop after the weekend. He seemed to pick up on the tension between us in a heartbeat, and he immediately paused, looking at us. “What's wrong?” he asked.
Dad and I were both silent for a long moment.
“What's wrong?” Rip asked again, deliberately this time.
“I shouldn't be coming to the clubhouse,” I said, ducking my head a little.
Rip looked momentarily surprised and then almost ...angry? I blushed and stared at the floor, feeling embarrassed, because I bet that he'd never had a situation before where a woman couldn't go out with him because her dad was too upset about the situation. I rubbed awkwardly at my wrist, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes. “And, uh, I guess I should get out of here,” I continued, looking around the workshop at all the scattered pieces to my design dreams. As much as I wanted to fight for this, for Rip, and for everything else, I knew that there was no way I could afford to live on my own at the moment, especially not if I lost my job at the shop.
I grabbed my bag and made to leave, but Rip caught my arm before I could. “Jessi, come on,” he said, his voice gentle, like he was worried he'd startle me.
I shook my head, unable to even find words. I wanted to just fall into his arms, to let him soothe all of this ache, but I knew that I couldn't do that.
“Jessi,” Rip growled, and I could hear the note of impatience in his voice. “You owe it to me to at least talk to me about this,” he said. I realized suddenly that it wasn't impatience that I was hearing in his voice but rather hurt.
I shook my head again, trying to pull my arm free. “Rip, don't,” I choked out, desperate to get out of there before I started sobbing. But he wouldn't let me go, and the next thing I knew, I was bawling there in the middle of the shop, feeling totally overwrought with emotions.
“Oh, Jessi,” Rip said, pulling me into his arms, the same way he had the other night when I'd been upset about Ellsmith. I trembled there against him, wishing Dad could just see how gentle Rip was with me and how much the man cared about me. I didn't think that would make any difference, though. Dad didn't want me to have any part of this life or this lifestyle.
When Rip’s arms came up around me, I couldn't resist anymore. I buried my face in the hollow of his neck, clinging to him. But when I finally managed to collect myself and pull away, I gave him one final headshake, looking guiltily over at where Dad stood watching us, his arms folded across his chest. Then I fled from the shop.