Dad didn't look right. I scrutinized him across the dinner table. He'd lost weight. Not that I could say anything. His stern expression was too off-putting. And I had bigger problems. I glanced over at Grace. She was dressed and sat eating demurely, dark-brown eyes downward-cast. A malice-edged smile played at the corners of her mouth.
I made a snap decision.
"Duh Dad?"
My father’s head snapped up in astonishment, as if finding out he had three daughters eating with him came as a great surprise.
"Yes, Emily Lynette?" he put down his knife and fork. I pulled a face at his use of my full name. He did it to cast distance between us, just as his overly patient tone was meant to make me think again about asking for any favours. Well tough. I was up to my eyes in trouble and we were losing Grace. He didn't even notice that it wasn't really Grace eating with us.
"I h-heard some things about Huh Haze that I d-don't think you'll like." I carefully avoided looking at Grace who had also stopped eating. Amy had been falling asleep over her plate but jerked upright now and made frantic 'don’t-do-it' motions at me. I ignored them both.
"Haze? Who is Haze?" Dad's eyebrows snapped together.
"A friend of G-G-Grace’s. Suh seen him? Buh black leather and a Harley. A big wuh one. He's b-bad news. L-lots of girls m-meet with him on the muh muh…" On the moor. Before he strangled them anyway.
"Are you saying this person has been loitering around here?" Good. Dad was angry. Maybe he would ground Grace or something.
Grace had red flags of colour riding high in her cheeks. Someone who knew her less well might think she was embarrassed. Her sherry-dark eyes fixed on mine and I felt my scratched cheek throb. I screwed up my courage and rushed on.
"H-he likes G-Grace. I've suh seen them together a few times –"
"Together doing what? Grace?" Dad had half-risen from his seat.
"Yes, Dad?" Grace sounded cool and unruffled. The flickering shadows around her pulsed with fury.
"Are you involved with this person? With a boy?" Electricity of the strictly mundane kind crackled around Dad.
"Of course not." Grace managed to sound bored. "He stopped here once for some oil. And I gave him directions the other day. I haven't seen him since." She turned indifferently back to her casserole.
"I don't want you involved with a biker. Any of you. You're all too young for boys anyway," Dad huffed. Weird. Like it was the first time he'd been really alert since we got here. "Motorcycles are dangerous and irresponsible." Was Dad being over-protective or calculating probable village gossip? Behind my eyes, the image of a belt swinging down towards my cringing flesh flashed past. I flinched.
"Of course not. I can do better than that when the time comes." Grace laughed.
Dad relaxed. Hell, I almost believed Grace myself. My palms felt slick. This was not going to plan. He was supposed to forbid her from going out. I looked toward Amy, telegraphing for help. Amy shook her head once, lips compressed into a white line. An emphatic no. She wouldn't get involved.
"Actually, Daddy, I wanted to ask if we could have a guest for dinner. Perhaps on Saturday?" Grace smiled.
"A guest?" Dad's frown returned full force.
A guest? At our cheerless family dinners?
"His name is Ciarán. He's staying with his godmother in town." Grace's eyes gleamed with dark amusement as her gaze met mine. "You remember him, Emily? He's staying with one of the ladies you do the flowers with."
No. I squirmed with discomfort. She wouldn't. She just wouldn't…
"He asked to meet you, Dad." Grace's words hit me like a physical blow. She was telling the truth. I knew she was. It didn't matter if I'd decided I couldn't have feelings for Ciarán. It wasn't important if Ciarán was being influenced by the Pattern. My face was numb and my hands shook. I wanted to reach across the table, grab Grace's throat and shake her.
Grace hadn't forgotten one thing at least. She hadn't forgotten that I said she couldn't have him. Her expression was sweet malevolence. From Amy's expression, I gathered I wasn't hiding my feelings well at all.
"He sounds more suitable than a biker. You can invite him. I'll meet him and we'll see." Dad's forehead un-knotted. "I don't want you seeing that biker fellow again though, Grace." He added almost as an afterthought.
"Of course not, Dad." She lied in a dulcet tone. It wasn't Grace's voice at all.
I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1) Page 34