"Dad, what are you doing here?"
I widened my eyes and stepped up to the door, looking between Ryan and his father. He couldn't be here—no, he shouldn't be here. Thanksgiving was about spending time with the ones you loved. It was about being with people you're thankful for and the only thing he was thankful for was the liquor store.
"I extended an invitation to him," Leah's mom uttered from behind us. "I didn't think it would be pleasant for him to spend Thanksgiving alone in that house and besides he's your father." She ushered him inside and they walked directly to the kitchen.
I shut the door and turned to see Ryan who wore a troubled expression. "She doesn't know about the evil in that man, but I promise he won't be here for long." I traced my fingertips up his chest and down his arms, catching his hands in mine. "You don't have to see him again after this, what's a few hours?"
