Futile Resistance Ch. 06

French conceded to herself that he was right about the nature of guys in general. However, she hadn't misread Hurst's reaction to her. At first, he had looked at her proprietarily and then when he'd realized who she was, with scorn and suspicion. Now that she'd had a bit of time to think about it, she wondered if he had ever told his wife about her.Maybe he was afraid that she would expose him...

At the moment, she didn't really have the time to reflect on her father's reaction to being brought face to face with her. She needed to handle Aidan with a deft and sure hand.He mustn't know that Hurst was her father. It would be far better if she managed to distance herself from Aidan gradually – again – until there was nothing left between them. She wouldn't be able to contain her hurt when his parents sided with Hurst, and against her, when they found out her parentage. They would inevitably find out; of that she was certain. And Aidan, being as close as he was to his parents – and apparently to Hurst as well - would side with them.Those types always stuck together, she thought bitterly. She would be left alone and feeling the fool.No! She would not allow herself to be placed in a position to be hurt because Aidan and his family rejected her.

"Aidan," she said, ice dripping from her voice. "Why can't you just accept the fact that your 'great friend' Paddy Hurst is a complete jerk?!"

"Because he isn't!"

"You're blind, Aidan, you can't see the man for what he is. Maybe deep down inside, you're just like him and hearing the truth about him hits too close to home," she taunted.

"And you're a bitch," Aidan retorted.

Stung by Aidan's harsh words, French sucked in a quick breath.And here we have the beginning of the end, she thought.Even though Aidan didn't know what Hurst meant to her, her father was driving a wedge between them. She knew she should be glad, that this would make severing their relationship easier, but she couldn't help feeling angry and sad that her father would ruin her one chance at happiness. Recovering quickly from Aidan's insult, she said,

"Oohh, what a great display of respect for women. Hmm," she mockingly considered, tapping her chin with the forefinger of one hand. "That comment makes me think you'rea lot more like Hurst than you'd like to believe..."

Aidan made a rude snort of disbelief that she would say such a thing and then said, "Patrick Hurst is a fine man. I could certainly do a lot worse if I were like him."

French ignored him and focused her attentions inward. When she thought of how hard she had tried to make a good first impression with Maggie and Iain, she felt incredibly dumb. She'd obsessed over her clothing, the gifts she'd chosen for them and had even doubted her own ability to interact with them in a way that was acceptable to them.As though they were something special, she scoffed to herself.Actually... They were special. They were Aidan's parents and she had wanted to impress them and had wanted them to see that she and Aidan were well-suited for one another.

She was heartbroken to think that she had come so close to realizing true happiness only to have it yanked out from under her. She had made the foolish mistake of thinking that she and Aidan had a future together. The whole deal: the white wedding, the kids, the house with the white picket fence. And unbeknownst to her, Aidan had literally grown up with her father, had spent vacations, holidays and countless other occasions with him. He knew her half-siblings and she had never laid eyes on them. Wretchedly, she predicted that Aidan would defend Hurst to the bitter end and would surely feel more loyalty to the man accepted and loved by the Conals as a member of the family than he would for her.

They endured the rest of the drive to Boston with angry silence thick between them. French continued to mentally flagellate herself with a litany of would have's and should have's.Damn it! She had landed herself in the very position she had always tried to avoid. She had ceded power to Aidan; he held her future in his hands, though he didn't realize it. She had been bewitched and besotted, had relaxed her guard, allowed herself to finallyfeel, allowed him to matter to her. Now he had the power to destroy her.

The knowledge that Aidan had grown up with her father made her feel sick; she wanted to get away from him as fast as possible. She knew that it was jealousy that made her gorge rise. She was most definitely jealous and resentful of the role he had played in her father's life, a role that rightfully should have been hers. She didn't know what to say or how to act with Aidan now; looking at him was a cruel reminder of how different they were. He'd had everything she had coveted while growing up. Including the love of her father. She didn't know what would happen once they reached her apartment.I hope he doesn't want to spend the night. I don't think I could stand it if he wanted to make love... she worried sadly.I'll just ask him to leave, she thought,surely he'd have no objection if I told him I was tired or not feeling well. It's my house after all – only I decide who I want to entertain!

To her surprise, Aidan headed for his place upon exiting the highway for the surface streets of the city. French bristled in her seat, even less sure how to handle him now.

"Aidan, please take me to my place."

"No."

"Do you honestly believe that your refusal to take me home will stop me from going?" she asked incredulously.

"I can be just as stubborn as you. So... Yes, I do think you won't be going home," he answered flatly.

"You... you... Ass!" she shot back. How dare he eventhink that he could control her!I'll fix him, she thought, puffed up with righteous anger,I'll grab my things and be walking home as soon as the car stops... I'll be gone before he even realizes it... The bastard!

Aidan pulled into the garage of his building and got out of the car. French jumped out of the passenger side before he could come around and open the door for her as he customarily did. He gave her a long, speaking look as he rounded the back end of the car and found that she had already alighted. Shaking his head, he turned, opened the trunk and began removing their belongings. French stepped right up and began grabbing for her bags.

"I think I'll just walk home now," she said coolly, trying to balance the garment bag that held her party dress, the doggie bag of Christmas leftovers Maggie had given her, her purse and overnight case. The few blocks to her apartment would seem interminable with all the stuff she carried.

"I don't think so. Give me some of that," he said, reaching out to relieve her of some of what she carried.

"No, Aidan! I want to go home. I... I can't be with you right now!" panic tinged her voice.

"That's good, French. Run away from the fact that we had an argument... You're good at running and hiding, aren't you?" he taunted.

"Goddamn it, Aidan! That's not fair!"

"It's not fair, either, that you're trying to make a federal case out of a simple misunderstanding – tarring and feathering Paddy before you've had a chance to know him! You're overreacting to this whole situation. You act as though you've been mortally wounded!"

"Maybe I have been!" she retorted through gritted teeth, because she felt she had been wounded. At the very least, an old, deep wound had been reopened. She needed to be alone so that she could try to construct a protective barrier over it in order to prevent further injury.

"Don't be ridiculous. You are driving me crazy with this 'woe is me' routine!" Fed up, he threw the things he'd been gathering back into the trunk. He then reached out and grabbed all of the items she held in her hands, threw them haphazardly on top of the heap and slammed the trunk shut.

"What are you doing? My purse is in there – my house keys!" French spluttered, outraged.

"Go inside," Aidan said, pointing to the door that led to the lobby.

"No! Give. Me. My. Things. Now!" she gritted out, stomping her foot for emphasis.

Grabbing her by her upper arm, Aidan yanked her into motion. His grip was firm, but not at all painful until French tried to jerk herself free.

"Ow, you're hurting me!"

"No, I'm not. Stop trying to fight me and it won't hurt. You won't win," his demeanor was implacable, as was his hold on her arm.

French gave an extra pull on her arm just to see if she could break away, but found she couldn't. She winced as she felt his hard fingers tighten on her arm. She yanked at her arm again and dug her heels in, using her weight as leverage against him.

"Let me go!" she ground out furiously. "You don't own me – you can't just drag me around like a dog on a leash!"

Despite her frantic attempts to get free, Aidan held on to her with ridiculous ease.

Looking pointedly at the hold he had on her arm, he said, "I beg to differ. Besides, I may not own you now, but after tonight... Youwill be mine – lock, stock and barrel."