Bad Daddy: Dirty Little Secret Duet book 1

Home > Romance > Bad Daddy: Dirty Little Secret Duet book 1 > Page 9
Bad Daddy: Dirty Little Secret Duet book 1 Page 9

by J. D. Hollyfield


  When he returns, I chug the water, not realizing how thirsty I was. The last time I had anything to drink or eat was yesterday at…

  “Hey…hey, you sure you’re okay?”

  I suck in a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions. “Yeah, just problems at home. I’m sorry. This is not normally me. I’m just…” Ashamed. Heartbroken. Alone. “I should probably let you finish your—”

  “Not a chance. I’m not letting you leave this upset. You look super pale. When was the last time you ate?” Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. “Oookay! That’s it. You’re coming with me.”

  He quickly gathers his things, tucks me under his arm, and escorts me out of the café. I’m numb to my surroundings as he puts me in his car, and we start to drive.

  “Where are we going?” He doesn’t answer right away, and it makes me uneasy. “Jim, you know, really, I’m fine. If you could just let me out here—”

  “It’s not fine, Violet. I know what happened to you. It was him, wasn’t it?”

  “Him, who? Jim, seriously, let me out.” I grab at the handle, but the door is locked.

  “I should have reported him to the cops the second I saw you two.”

  “Wait, Jim. I think you have the wrong idea. Please, just pull over. I want to get out.” He does the opposite and speeds up. My hands begin to shake. Without bringing attention to myself, I take out my phone and hit redial, pulling up the last person I called. Shit. Hazel. Please pick up, please pick up.

  “I’ve invested a lot of time in you, Violet. It’s about time you let me take care of you.”

  “What are you talking about? We don’t even know each other.”

  He slams his fist on the steering wheel, his speed increasing. “I’ve watched you since the first day of class. It wasn’t by accident I ran into you at that party. I cared enough to track you down. Because I knew how special you were. I put in the time. I gave you the proper space and time it takes when courting a girl.”

  Courting? What the fuck? “This is insane. I never showed interest in you. Slow down. You’re gonna kill us.”

  “Never showed interest? All the times you stayed after class to talk to me! Gave me your number! Danced with me!”

  “You got my attention, Hazel gave you my number, and it was just a dance. Jesus, this is insane! Pull the fuck over!”

  “NO!” Jim blows a stop sign, and I scream, blocking my eyes as he almost hits a pedestrian.

  “Jim, slow down!”

  “You are one ungrateful bitch, you know that!” He takes one hand off the steering wheel to claw at my thigh. “You looked at me with those eyes—those fuck me eyes. Don’t fucking lie to me and tell me you didn’t lead me on.”

  This guy has lost his marbles. “You’re crazy. You’re horribly mistaken if you think I’m into fucking psychopaths. Pull the fuck over before you kill us!”

  He won’t let up on the gas, and his speed is unsafe for the area. The roads are narrow. Soon, we’re going to come to a T. “Jim, please, slow down. There’s construction and—JIM, WATCH OUT!”

  Heath

  The next day…

  My head is pounding. My mouth is drier than the Sahara Desert. I shift onto my side, an empty bottle of bourbon staring me in the face. “Fuck,” I grunt and sit up, the hotel room spinning viciously. My hands thrust into my hair, and my thumbs dig hard into my temples. Flashes of last night take flight into my mind, and I grunt, picking up the empty bottle and whip it across the room.

  After leaving the house, I checked into a hotel. I knew it was best to give Hazel space, but sitting in the quiet room, it only allowed my mind to drown in my horrific reality. The shock and hurt in Hazel’s eyes haunted me and regret burned deep in my chest for not listening to Violet. Instead of trying to fix things, I drank myself into a stupor, needing to numb my mind, but it only made it worse. The pained look in Violet’s eyes. The way I just let her walk out of my house as if she meant nothing to me.

  “Fuck!” Fighting back the bile traveling up my throat, remembering our exchange of words, I force myself to get up and head down to the hotel gym. I need an outlet for this pent-up guilt or I’m going to go insane. I look at my phone and see Hazel hasn’t returned any of my calls. I haven’t even attempted to call Violet.

  I’m a son of a bitch. A coward.

  She probably hates me. Which she should. She was right. We should have told Hazel. But the bastard I am just pushed the idea of being honest away because of my own selfish reasons. Reasons that don’t matter anymore because our secret is no longer that.

  I hit the treadmill and sprint on a high incline mustering up the courage to call Violet. Beg for her to forgive me. My muscles ache and sweat builds along my forehead. By the time I’ve soaked my shirt, I’m heaving and still feel no relief. Trapped in the hell I’ve created, I hit the weights, pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion. My guilt is like a million, jagged knives cutting at my insides. When I finally pick up my phone and dial her number, I stare at it for too long, then erase the numbers.

  Instead of going home, I call Gabriel and tell him to meet me at Exquisite. When I walk into the club, I wince at the neon lights from the dance floor intensifying my still throbbing headache. Clara, the head hostess catches my attention and I wave, signaling to get me a drink. Clearly, I plan on handling this like a weak piece of shit and drink until I become numb again.

  Gabriel arrives the same time my drink does, and I take a large gulp signaling for another.

  “Jesus, it can’t be that bad,” Gabe says, filling the lounge chair next to me.

  “Yeah, it can,” I growl, slamming back the remainder of my drink. Not even the top-notch liquor numbs the pain in my chest. Flashes of both their faces continue to resonate in the front of my mind. The moment we were exposed the consequences were unavoidable. In a matter of seconds, I lost them both. The two most important girls in my life both hate me. They fucking should. Why the fuck did I let Violet walk out that door? I should have gone after her. But I couldn’t abandon my distraught daughter. I had to make it right with her first.

  Too bad that turned out to be a waste of time. She didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Like the bastard I am, I turned it around on her. Why the fuck was she home anyway? Her wishy-washy excuse didn’t add up, and I took out my anger on how I handled things with Violet on her. We fought, she said some hateful things, and I left.

  “Why the fuck was she even home? I told her I wasn’t going to be there.” Gabe isn’t helpful. He doesn’t say a fucking peep. “She called me a fucking predator. Can you believe that shit?”

  Gabe laughs. “That’s interesting.”

  “It’s fucked up. I’m not a predator. Violet’s of age. Dammit! I wouldn’t have touched her if she was underage.”

  “Would you have, though?”

  “Fuck you,” I growl. “I have some sick tastes, but I would never touch a minor.” She may be young, but she’s more a woman than half the women I’ve ever had in my bed. She’s willing, yet defiant. Funny and easy-going, yet skilled and fearless.

  “So, why are you sitting here sulking with me? Why don’t you go talk to her?”

  “Because I don’t know if that’s right. I fucking said some messed up shit to her. I hurt her. And when Hazel caught us, I did nothing to defend us. It was my chance to do right by her, and I just fucking stood there.”

  “Ouch.”

  I glare at him, hoping he feels the daggers. “Seriously? You’re supposed to be helping me.”

  “What would you like me to do? Call over that candy blonde and have her suck you off?” He starts to wave at a girl, and I slap his hand down.

  “For Christ’s sake, no. But some goddamn—”

  “Excuse me, miss, you can’t be back here!” Clara calls out to a girl running toward us.

  “Hazel? What the fuck!”

  “Dad, I need to talk to you.”

  “How the fuck did you get in here?” It’s an exclusive gentlemen’s club f
or a fucking reason. Her eyes dart from Gabe back to me.

  “Listen, something’s happened. I didn’t answer, but I should have. I was so mad—I’m still so mad—so I wasn’t picking up her calls.”

  “Whose calls?” Her panicked tone has me up and alert. “Whose calls, Hazel?”

  “Violet’s. She kept calling and calling, and I kept silencing her. But the last one…” She chokes on her own words. “Shit, Daddy. If I had just answered!”

  I grab at her, giving her a gentle shake. “Fucking spit it out.”

  “Her last message… she left a super long voicemail. I wasn’t going to listen to it, …” Her eyes start to well with tears, and my stomach bottoms out. “ It was her and Jim. They were arguing. She was in his car, and he was going on about some crazy shit. He wouldn’t stop. She kept yelling at him to slow down, then—” She stops, and I shake her. “Her screams…I think they…I think they got into an accident. The voicemail hit the max time limit, and I don’t know! I tried calling her back, but nothing.” Hazel falls apart in my arms. I can’t seem to process the information she just threw at me.

  Violet.

  Violet.

  Violet.

  “Gabe, take Hazel. Get her the fuck out of here. Take her home.”

  Gabe is up, no questions asked, wrapping Hazel in his arms. I’m out the door and in my car, blowing all sorts of traffic violations. I call Violet’s cell, but it goes to voicemail. I call the dorm room, but no one picks up. The last call I make… I pray to every higher power out there they don’t have anyone by the name of Violet admitted. My hope is sliced in two when they confirm they do.

  The drive feels like an eternity. I can’t get to her fast enough. When I race through the emergency room doors, I almost take out a nurse, demanding to see her. “I’m sorry, what’s your relation?” she asks, blocking me.

  “I’m… her father.” Fuck, I’m going to hell, but I need to see her. They take me back, and my chest constricts. Her head is wrapped in a bandage, and so are her arm and leg. The doctor comes in telling me she has a concussion, a sprained wrist, fractured ankle, and a few broken ribs, but is lucky to be alive. He informs me the driver was pronounced dead at arrival.

  I hold her hand all night, but she doesn’t wake up. When the doctor does his rounds in the morning, he tells me her vitals look good and to have faith. After the mid-morning rounds pass through, Hazel arrives.

  “How is she?” she asks from behind me.

  “Stable. Hasn’t woken up yet, though.” She takes a seat beside me and starts to cry. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” I try to reassure my daughter, even though the words don’t sound promising coming out of my mouth.

  “Dad, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have picked up her call.”

  I tuck her against my side to comfort her. “Shhh…baby girl, this is not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have let her leave that night. We all should have talked it out. I should have been truthful from the beginning.” I’m a fucking bastard.

  Hazel cries into my shoulder, and I let her, needing her to know I’m here for her. When she pulls away, I wipe at her soaked cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I should have told you.”

  “Why? Why her?”

  At this point, I have nothing to lose, so I tell her the truth. “Because she has this aura. From the moment I saw her, it wrapped around me and took hold of me. I knew right away I was done for. I didn’t plan for it. Neither did she. It wasn’t something that happened instantly. Or without caution and regret. But the chemistry was too intense to deny. Don’t hate her. Hate me. She wanted to tell you. I wouldn’t allow it. That’s what we were fighting about when you came home. She couldn’t lie to you anymore. She was ending it.”

  She stares at me, digesting my confession. “Do you love her?” Her question throws me off guard. I hadn’t been able to answer it myself until now—until knowing I may not be able to tell her or show her. “I do.” God, I do.

  Hazel hugs me, now offering me the comfort I desperately need. “I’m sorry. I handled this wrong. I was just caught off guard by it all.”

  “I know. And for that, I’m sorry. It’s over. I won’t—”

  Hazel pulls back. “Dad, I’ve never seen or heard you show any proper emotion toward another woman since Mom. And to hear you admit you love Violet, as weird and crazy as it is, I could never take that away from you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it may take some time—and be fucking weird since my roommate and best friend is your girlfriend—but if you love her and she loves you, you have my blessing.” I’m taken aback by her approval. It’s not what I expected or deserve, but this is another reason why my daughter is amazing and resilient.

  “Thank you,” is all I manage to say. My emotions are still riding high, and seeing Violet lying in this bed is eating me alive. Hazel gives me one last reassuring hug, then tells me she’s going to go find a police officer and turn the voicemail in for evidence.

  Minutes turn into hours as I sit and wait for her to open her eyes. Visiting hours expire, and I send Hazel back to her dorm to get some sleep. Night turns into morning, and I peel my heavy lids open to see what time it is.

  “Hey.” Her voice is raspy, but it’s her voice. My eyes shoot open. I shake off my dream, making sure I’m actually awake.

  “You’re awake. Shit. I’ll go grab a doctor.” I pop up to yell at someone, but Violet grabs my hand.

  “They’ve been in. Said my dad’s been here with me the whole time.”

  I frown, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “It was the only way they would let me stay with you.”

  “It’s okay. That’s what I assumed when I agreed with what a great dad you were.”

  I slump back in my chair, capturing her hand. “Fuck, Violet. I’m so sorry. I fucked up, and I should have listened to you. Told Hazel.” I feather kisses along her inner palm, over every fingertip. “You have every reason to hate me, but when I tell you you’re mine, I mean it. If you choose not to forgive me, I’ll be forced to lock you up in my castle and keep you against your will. Because know this: this—us—it’s not a game to me. This is me confessing that I love you. And I want the idea of us to be a reality.”

  Tears begin to spill down her pale cheeks, and a ripple of doubt sours in my gut. A low whimper leaves her lips, and I throw myself out of my chair to grab a doctor.

  “Heath.” She reaches out and captures my hand. My head snaps back, taking in our entwined fingers, forgetting just how much I need her touch.

  “What? What do you need? Anything. You name it—”

  “Sit the fuck down.”

  Down I go. “Are you in pain? What can I do for you?”

  “You can shut up and listen for once.” Done. Lips sealed. She struggles to take in a deep breath, moaning from her broken ribs. If that motherfucker had made it out alive, I would have killed him myself. It takes a bit for her to gather her thoughts, and every second that passes worries me.

  She weakly squeezes my hand. “I want nothing more than for this to be a reality. I’m in love with you too. The moment you walked into that dorm room, something inside me knew we were connected. And I do forgive you. But I can’t come between you and Hazel. I have enough respect for her to walk away.” Her left hand is in a cast, and I refuse to let her right hand go, so I help her by wiping away the stream of tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just a mess right now. Jim…they said he—”

  “Shhh…don’t go there. You’re alive, and that’s the only thing that matters. We’re gonna get you out of here, and I’m going to take you home and baby the fuck out of you until you get better.” A small chuckle falls off her lips, then she groans, and I instantly regret the joke. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  “Heath, I’m thankful you’d do all that for me, but I told you, I won’t go without Hazel’s approval, and I don’t see that—”

  “And like I said, once we get home, I’m going to get you situated
in my bed. Sponge baths are probably a must. I will make sure to take extra good care of all your needs—”

  “Heath, I’m serious.”

  I bring her hand to my lips. “So am I.” I feather her knuckles with kisses. “Hazel and I had a talk. I explained us. The real us. And she gave me her blessing.”

  Her eyes widen in surprise. “She did?”

  I nod, never breaking eye contact. “I own you, naughty girl. Tell me you forgive me, and I’ll never let you go.” Every second that passes without a reply maddens me. I need to know she belongs to me and only me. If she turns me down, I’ll break. I’ll lose my shit and tear this entire world apart until she changes her mind and sees just how deep my newfound obsession for her runs.

  “I—”

  “Fuck, don’t do this to me. Don’t give me bad news. I’m an old man, and this old heart—”

  She pulls her hand away, smacking mine. “Oh, shut it. You’re not old. You’re in better shape than most people my age.”

  I smile at her compliment. “Why, thank you. Does that mean it’s a yes?” I’m a bastard. I stare her down, reeling her into my web of pleasure and promise.

  “That’s cheating,” she says, calling me out, but I don’t give a shit. Whatever it takes to make her entirely mine.

  “I never claimed to be a good man, naughty girl.” I reclaim her hand and press a single kiss to the inside of her palm. “Let me own you, Violet. Be mine.” Too much time passes. “Answer goddammit. You’re killing me here.”

  “I was going to say yes right at the beginning, but I was enjoying you begging for once.”

  My bad, bad girl. I stretch over her and take her lips. “Mine. Always mine.”

  “Yours.”

  Violet

  Three weeks later…

 

‹ Prev