His eyes narrowed slightly at her use of his name. It was the first time she’d called him anything but Daddy, and though she’d rather not have to call him anything at all, the departure felt good.

“Well, you see, life was going along just fine.” He turned away from the view and began inspecting the minibar. “The money you gave us was helping your mama, and I even managed to find a good job.” He pulled a few bottles out and stuffed them in his pocket without reading the labels.

“That’s fabulous.” Her tone couldn’t be any drier if she tried.

“But see”—he pocketed another handful of bottles—“then some report came out where you told the world I was a bad father.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let her father know he’d affected her. “And your point is?”

He shut the fridge door and turned to pin his eyes on his daughter. “Why would you tell people lies like that?”

“Because they aren’t lies.” She’d wondered how her father would take her tell-all exclusive, but she’d been more concerned about her own life post-Jenna interview than his. Even with him standing in front of her, she still didn’t care about his reaction. She just wanted him to go. “If that’s all you came to talk about, you need to leave. Actually, you need to leave period.”

“But, Heather, you don’t understand the consequences of your lies.” He took a couple of steps toward her. “I lost my job because of the things you been saying.”

“You lost your job because you show up stoned out of your mind.” Unbelievable. He’d never kept a job more than a few months at a time, and he was blaming this termination on her? He might not have even been fired. He might not have even had a job. He wasn’t exactly the poster boy for honesty.

Which was why she was done with him—done with him the moment she’d said on national television that she’d wished he was dead. If he couldn’t be dead for real, he could at least be dead to her. “Dean, I’m not doing this anymore. Seriously. You need to leave.”

“I ain’t leaving until I get some compensation.”

“Compensation?” Her voice rose. “What about my compensation? Who’s going to compensate me for all the time and money I’ve given to you?”

He gestured to the luxurious suite. “I think you’ve gotten the better end of the stick.”

“I made my end of the stick myself.” She was pissed now. Seriously pissed. How dare he claim what she’d busted her ass to achieve? “All of this you see here? It’s mine because I earned it. I don’t owe you anything. I’m not giving you anything else. Last time was the end.”

“Now don’t be like that, Heather. Just give me what I deserve and I’ll be going.” He started a slow saunter toward her that she found more than a bit creepy.

Still, she played brave. “Or what? Do you think you have something over me? The only thing I’ve been embarrassed about is you and you’re not a secret anymore.” Surprisingly, she was pissed enough to play brave convincingly.

“Don’t f**king tell me you’re embarrassed by me.” He continued his approach, each step he took backing her up until she’d reached the wall. “It’s me who’s embarrassed to have a whore for a daughter—a famous whore. You think that makes me proud?”

“Get out of here!” she screamed, her fear now too strong to keep suppressed.

“It’s my turn to say, or what?” He put a hand on each side of her, caging her in. His breath was foul and his voice low and snakelike. “We both know you aren’t going to call security.”

Now she remembered another reason she always gave Dean what he wanted—because he scared her. Legitimately scared her. She knew he wasn’t above roughing her up. He could hit her. Push her around. He was skinny from drug use, but he was still strong.

Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain Dean could hear it. Or maybe that wasn’t her heart, but the door.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you okay in here?”

She glanced over to see a bellhop sticking his head in the doorway. His eyes darted from Heather to Dean then back to Heather, surmising the situation. “Do you need some help?”

The Heather of three months ago would have said no, would have done anything to keep attention away from her and her crack-head father.

But the Heather of today was a completely different person. “Yes! Please! I do need help.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Dean said. “We’re fine here. Just a personal matter.”

“We’re not fine here!” Heather took advantage of Dean’s distraction to duck out under his arms. She ran to the bellhop’s side, wanting a person between her and the man she used to call Daddy. “He’s here uninvited and I want him to leave.”

“She’s being dramatic. I’m her father.”

“I want him to leave!”

The bellhop stepped inside and picked up the phone on the occasional table. “Hi, this is Wes Lang. We need a manager and security to this room, please. There’s a situation.”

“There’s no situation.” Dean turned to his daughter, eyes pleading. “Heather, come on, now.”

“No, you come on!” Maybe because she felt less frightened with the bellhop with her, or maybe just because she’d finally reached her limit of Dean Hutchins’s shit, Heather suddenly felt her rage welling up inside her like a geyser.

Then the geyser blew. “I am sick and tired of you manipulating me and pushing me around. You’ve caused me nothing but pain and humiliation my whole life—when you were supposed to care for me and love me. I’m through. Do you hear me? I’m through being ashamed. It’s not my fault that you’re messed up. And it’s not my fault that you are a horrible excuse for a father. Just because I grew up with you doesn’t mean I have to be anything like you. So I’m not enabling you anymore. I’m done. As soon as I get back to L.A., I’m filing for a restraining order, something I should have done years ago. And so help me God, if you come near me again, I will throw you in the slammer without a second thought.”

“Baby doll—”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” She turned to the bellhop, her body shaking. “Can you get him out of here?”

“Don’t bother,” Dean said gruffly. “I’m leaving.”