Rachel
Oh my God, this is so not happening right now. This cannot be happening right now.
I sprang away from Miles, covering my body with the white comforter, my cheeks flaming.
"Dad! What are you doing here!?" Miles exclaimed in horror, pulling his boxers on and blocking me from his father's view.
"No, no," William said venomously. "You do not get to ask me that question."
I shrank behind Miles, wishing the earth would just open up so I could fall in and never be seen again.
"Dad, please—" Miles started, but William walked toward the bed slowly, purposefully.
"Did you really think I wasn't going to find out that you booked this suite?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"How would you – "
William cut him off. "If you'd pay any attention, son, you'd know that I just acquired this building last week."
I heard Miles' sharp intake of breath and I realized he had had no idea.
"Did you really think you'd be able to check in to any hotel in this city without me finding out? Are you really that stupid?"
I clenched my teeth. I couldn't stand hearing him speak to Miles that way.
"I'm not stupid, Dad," Miles said, and his dad laughed.
"Oh no? You bring your little slut of a girlfriend to my hotel and expect—"
Everything that happened next happened in an instant. Miles was off the bed and on his feet, pushing William backward, his arm across his chest, pinning him to the wall.
"Do not ever talk about Rachel that way. You have no fucking right," Miles growled, his face inches from his father's.
I was crying then, pulling on Miles' undershirt, my underwear, and pajama shorts. "Please, Miles, stop," I wailed.
Miles ignored me, pressing William harder against the wall. "Miles, if you know what's good for you, you'll let go of me," William snarled.
"Fuck you, Dad," Miles said, and I put my hand over my mouth.
"Excuse me?"
"Fuck. You. I am so fucking sick of this bullshit," Miles said, letting go of William's shirt all of a sudden. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought her here, but I am not stupid and she is the furthest thing from a slut," he said, pulling on his trousers.
I hid my head in my hands, my hair falling over my shoulders. I wished it would swallow me up.
"She must not only be a slut, but a stupid slut – to have anything to do with a worthless idiot like you," William hissed, a smug sneer on his face.
That was it. I lost control of my actions. I didn't give a shit what he had to say about me, but I was not going to let him stand there and talk to his son that way. I jumped up and went toward him, blinded by rage.
Before Miles could hold me back, I started yelling. "Stop talking to him that way, you f—"
The palm of his hand made contact with my cheek before I knew what was happening. I gasped, putting my hand on my cheek in horror.
"God—" William started, actually looking dismayed at what he'd just done.
Miles let out a guttural noise, full of rage and ferocity. He pulled me back and pushed me gently onto the bed. "Are you okay?" he whispered, and I nodded, holding my stinging cheek. He turned around, advancing on William.
"Miles, please," I begged, remembering the night at La Vela. "Please don't. Can we just leave, please?"
Miles stopped in his tracks. He glanced back at me, his eyes fiery.
"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking.
He nodded almost imperceptibly, and I immediately picked up our bags and started shoving things into them as Miles stepped toward his father.
"You are dead to me," Miles said quietly but clearly.
"Miles, wait – " William said, having the nerve to reach out for him.
He held up his palm. "No. Don't fucking touch me. It's one thing for you to push me, shove me, hit me. But you will not touch her. You will not touch her and get away with it," he spat. He turned toward me, his eyes softening. "Come on, baby," he whispered, taking the bags from me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders protectively, leading me out the door.
Miles
When we got to the Jeep, I was still shaking.
He had gone too far this time by hitting Rachel. I would never, ever be able to forgive him for this. I would rather him beat the living shit out of me than to lay a hand on her.
Rachel was quiet, her eyes red from crying, but she was holding my hand tightly.
"I can't go home," I whispered.
She looked over at me and squeezed my hand. "Let's go sit on the beach at St. Andrews. You have a blanket back there?"
I nodded. "Okay."
***
When we got to St. Andrews, I spread the blanket on the sand, handed Rachel the hoodie I kept in the Jeep, and gathered her into my arms, holding her against my chest.
"Rachel, I don't even know where to – "
She turned around, facing me, and shook her head. "You don't have to apologize. Nothing about that was your fault."
I raised my hand to touch her face, lowered it once, then brought it back up, gingerly caressing the place my father had hit her.
"I cannot believe he hit you," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "I would understand if you never wanted to see me again."
She crawled onto my lap and put her hands on my face. "Miles. Stop. This changes nothing between us. Your dad is a dick. We already knew that. It changes nothing about how I feel about you. Do you understand?"
I took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes." I leaned forward and rested my forehead against hers. "I love you so much, Rachel. You are the only thing keeping my head above water right now."
"I love you too, Miles. I'm here – and I'm not going anywhere," she replied, and I pulled her closer, wishing I could stay here in this moment with her for the rest of my life.