The Maid For Styles

Chapter 70

Chloe's POV

Goosebumps formed on the surface of my skin as I shrank away from Des' unsettling stare, his words frightening me just as his very presence succeeded to do also. I angled my body towards Harry's back, hoping his torso would provide some sort barrier between Des and I, and luckily enough, his broad shoulders granted the protection I was so desperately searching for. Flickering my gaze from his aging face down to Harry's body to avoid his unappreciated stare wasn't enough to remove the weight that had settled down on my shoulders. I had absolutely no idea who Des was. I knew he was the biological father of Harry and Gemma, and the ex-husband of Anne, but I didn't truly know the man. What he'd done to the family that I sat before was unknown to me, leaving me sceptical as to what I was supposed to say and do when I was the one his interest was directed upon. I was uncomfortable, completely uncomfortable, wishing that I had of known about Des before I arrived in Holmes Chapel. Maybe then it would've made the situation the slightest bit less painless.

A low, animalistic growl escaped Harry's mouth as he pulled my chair closer to his, guarding me even more once he realised what I was aiming for. He lifted his head to look at Des for the first time since he'd entered the house, unwelcomed.

"Don't speak to her," Harry's gravelly voice rasped out.

Des chuckled one of his arrogant chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I think you know by now that I do and say as I please."

Harry glared at him, his muscles tensing. "I'm not oblivious, of course I do. That's why you're not a part of this family reunion, or family, even."

"Without my assistance, you wouldn't be sitting here, living and breathing today," snarled Des, the harshness in his voice causing my stomach to sink.

"Don't play that card, Des. You and I both know that's not something you're undeniably proud of," Harry muttered, his hand moving from my knee to grip my hip tightly, holding me against his side as the two men spat spiteful words at each other.

"I could've been, and you very well know that," Des' glare harshened.

Harry shrugged tightly. "Maybe, but shouldn't a father love his family unconditionally?"

"Loving a disappointment is impossible." The cruelty laced in his words was of a level I had never had knowledge of until now. How a father could utter those malicious words was beyond me, and it was clear as to why Des wasn't wanted. He was a heartless and cruel old man, nothing more.

"Des, that's enough," Anne spoke confidently, the love she held for her son overruling the tense feeling she received from Des.

Somehow, all nervousness left my body and I was overwhelmed with a burning sense of hatred and fury. What kind of man could treat someone so poorly? How could he treat his son so horribly? A glare of mine was pointed in his direction and I felt my fist clenching Harry's shirt tightly, as I saw his eyes flicker to the ground, hurt seeming to settle in. It took almost every bone in my body to keep myself situated in my chair. No matter how badly I wanted to tackle Des to the floor and smack him all the way into unconsciousness, I knew that I couldn't. After all, he was still Harry's father, even if he truly didn't act like one. Harry was lucky to have Robin, knowing he'd still have a fatherly figure, when his dad wasn't able to fill that spot.

"Hmm," Des hummed. "Expressing my opinion alongside my family seems to be a little redundant nowadays."

"It's always been redundant, now leave. Just like your opinion, you're unwanted here," Robin spoke up, shutting Des down. "My family and I would like to eat dinner in peace."

"Your family?" A scoff left the back of Des' throat as he raised his eyebrows at Robin from his chair next to Anne.

"Yes, my family. You lost the right to call them that a long time go," a seething Robin spat, showing he'd go to extreme lengths to protect his loved ones.