ch.66 Become him

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"Harry!" I shouted, grabbing his arm. He shrugged me off. Darcy and Richie jumped back and away about five feet.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER!?" Harry demanded, yanking Richie's collar.

"I-I'm sorry, sir," he apologized. But he didn't need to say a thing. It was Harry that was out of line.

"Sorry? SORRY!?" Harry mimicked.

Richie looked down. A smidge of Darcy's lipgloss coated his lower lip.

"Harold! Let go of him!" I demanded, pulling Harry back more successfully this time.

"Daddy, he didn't do anything wrong," Darcy insisted. 

Harry stared at her. 

"Don't you remember what Brock did?? Who says this idiot won't do the same!?" he growled softly. The last thing he wanted was to make Darcy cry, but after what Brok did, Harry didn't trust any man with Darcy.

Darcy looked down at her wrists. Richie reached for her hands instinctively.

"Who's Brock? What did he do to you, Darc?" Richie demanded.

Darcy shook her head.

"Darcy, tell me, or I'll kill every 'Brock' within a thousand mile radius," Richie threatened, pointing out the door. I blinked, nearly mistaking Richard for Harry.

Harry grew unbelievably quiet. He stared at Richie as though he were proud of him, as though he possibly respected him.

"Richard," Harry spoke up.

Richard let go of Darcy and stuck his hands innocently in his pockets. Harry took a step forward and watched Richard's eyes.

"Do you want to go out with my daughter?" he asked plainly.

Richard mumbled incoherently. 

"Yes or no?"

"Y-yes."

I stared at Harry, completely confused, but hoping he was going to give Darcy her first break in nearly 18 years.

Harry held his arms behind himself, like a general eyeing a soldier. He started pacing around poor Richie.

"You got a license, boy?" Harry hissed, glancing Richard's pocket. 

"Yes, sir," Richard nodded, standing up straighter.

"You take drugs, alcohol, speed, dope, crack, any of that?" Harry raised a brow.

"No, sir," Richard shook his head.  Darcy patted his shoulder gently.

"You got good grades, boy?"

"3.7 GPA."

Harry stopped pacing around and stared at Richard from the corner of his eye.

"I've got a '76 Harley. You take my little girl up to 13th and E, to that old school outdoor theatre and watch that old James Dean movie," Harry told Richard.

Darcy and I exchanged glances. 

"Have her home by midnight," Harry nodded.

Richard's mouth hung open.

"What are you staring at me for? Go before I change my mind and make a roast out of ur head," Harry pushed Richard's shoulder. Darcy grabbed his hand. Harry threw the key to his motorcycle.

"Of course, sir," Richard mumbled.

"Thank you, daddy," Darcy gasped, still completely shocked by the whole situation.

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