27
Dillon
I ignored Laurel’s mother when she opened the door, instead, zooming in on Laurel, who looked devastated.
Which really pissed me off.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, clenching my teeth when she shook her head sadly.
“Dillon Lewis,” her mother began haughtily. “What’s the meaning of this?”
I brushed past her, not bothering to respond, and did what I’d been wanting to do since I left her standing on the street. I pulled Laurel into my arms and held her tightly against me. My hands came to her back and I rubbed my hand in small circles as she sagged against me.
“What’s going on?”
I looked over Laurel’s head to see her father striding toward us, his glasses slightly skewed.
“You’ve upset your daughter, Mr. Turner,” I replied angrily. “Although I shouldn’t be surprised, it seems
