Daddy's Toy-Box (A Daddy's Best Friend Romance)

by Caitlin Daire

  My eyes flickered wildly back and forth as I struggled, hoping to god another car would drive by and see us, but there was no one. Not even any headlights in the distance. We were alone on the road, and no one was coming to help me.

  “C’mon, baby girl,” the blond guy said, groping at my left breast over the top of my shirt. “Fuck, you’ve got nice tits.”

  My mind raced with terror, and I screamed. “No! Stop!”

  I redoubled my efforts to push him off me, but he only laughed and finally shoved me into the back seat of the truck. All the air went out of my lungs, and I winced in pain when one of my hips hit a metal seatbelt clip.

  “You’re a real fighter,” the man said, voice dripping with amusement. “Glad I happened to come across you out here. Bet you’re tight as fuck.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. Women’s pain and fear actually excited this guy, and he’d probably planned to do this from the second he saw me waving him down. I hadn’t led him on; I didn’t do anything to deserve this. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person. But that knowledge didn’t exactly help me now. My body went limp against the seat upholstery, as if every muscle had realized my struggles were useless and would only result in me being hurt.

  “Please,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry if you thought I led you on. Let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just let me go.”

  “You think I’m that fucking stu—”

  “What the hell?” A familiar masculine voice burst through the crisp night air, and my attacker sprang back in surprise. In the struggle, we'd both missed the fact that a car had pulled up near us, headlights shining through the back window of the truck.

  “Daddy!” I screamed, certain it was my father’s voice I heard. “Help!”

  But it wasn’t him.

  Chapter Eight

  Jackson

  It was already dark, and I was fucking hungry. Usually I’d cook for myself, but after the stressful week I’d had at work and with the campaign, I was exhausted. Maybe it was time for a drive into the city to grab a bite to eat somewhere. It was always nice to try out new places, and it gave some people a kick to see someone they might be voting for soon getting out and about in their very own city. I needed all the votes I could get and it certainly couldn’t hurt, so I grabbed my wallet, hopped in my car and headed off.

  As I cruised down the road which led out of my area and toward the main city highway, I squinted into the darkness up ahead, wishing my high beams went farther than they did. I could’ve sworn I’d seen something up ahead, but I….wait, there it was. A truck parked up on the edge along with a familiar blue car.

  Lily’s car.

  I frowned, thinking she’d simply broken down and Craig was helping her. But then I saw a young blond guy roughly grabbing at her and forcing her into the back seat of the truck, and my blood ran cold. Shit.

  With a screech of my tires, I pulled over as quickly as I could. “Hey! What the hell?” I shouted, hoping my voice alone would get this guy the fuck off Lily.

  “Daddy! Help!” I heard her cry out.

  I didn’t bother correcting her. Now wasn’t really the time. “I’m coming, Lily! Get off her, you piece of fucking shit!”

  Fiery rage boiled up inside me at the sight before me, filling my veins with adrenaline, and I stepped right up behind the guy before he could even try to run away. Sliding a thick arm around his upper body, I tore him away from Lily, and with a brutal maneuver, I threw him right to the ground.

  He landed on his side on the road, and I leapt on him, pinning him on his back. A savage red mist seemed to have descended over my vision, and I couldn’t stop myself from punching this piece of shit’s face, over and over. With a crack of my fist, I heard the telltale sound of cartilage snapping in his nose.

  I wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t risk beating the guy too badly, or else my career and my campaign were toast…if he recognized me, that is. And he probably would; there was a good chance. My face was everywhere at the moment—in the papers, on billboards, on local websites. But I still needed to defend Lily. She was such a tiny little girl, and I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to her, let alone any other innocent women out there.

  This cunt deserved at least one more hit.

  I smashed my fist into his jaw, and he groaned. A beam of light cut through the darkness, and I realized another car was coming in our direction. They had their high beams turned on, and I winced as the light temporarily blinded me until they’d sped past on the other side of the road, totally ignoring us. That distracted me long enough for the blond guy to get up, and before I could do anything else, he’d rolled over, gotten up and jumped into the driver’s seat of his truck, blood pouring from his nose.

  “Yeah, you better run, you fucking scumbag!” I called after him as he stepped on the gas and tore out onto the road. “I know your plate now, and you’re gonna have some friendly visitors in the morning! Piece of fucking shit!”

  I made a mental note of the license plate to give to my friend in the sheriff’s office later, and then I turned to Lily, my face softening. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her legs were nearly buckling. I grabbed her with one arm and eased her to the edge of the road, sitting her down on a small grassy knoll. “Easy, Lily,” I said softly. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

  “It’s…it’s you,” she said, quivering as she looked up at me. “I thought...thought you were my dad.”

  “Well, you did say yesterday that I was kinda like a second daddy to you when you were a kid,” I said with a smile, trying to take her mind off what just happened. “And you were right. I was. So it’s my job to protect you. Keep you safe from all the shit in this world.”

  “I didn’t mean it like…I know you’re not really my dad,” she whispered.

  “I know. But I still want to keep you safe. Are you okay? That guy didn’t…”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m okay. Just shaken up. But if you hadn’t arrived when you did…god, Jackson, I don’t know what would’ve happened. Thank you for chasing him off. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “No need for thanks,” I said, my voice growing hoarse as I heard the neediness in her young voice. “Like I said, I want to keep you safe.”

  “Thank you,” she repeated, her voice barely above a murmur.

  “Wanna tell me what happened?” I asked, taking a seat next to her.

  “Car died, so did my phone. That man pulled over and said he’d help. Gave me his jacket because it’s so cold. Then he just…he attacked me. Well, he cracked onto me first. I said no. He said I led him on; that I was a tease. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken his jacket, but I didn’t deserve to—”

  I cut her off with a firm word. “No,” I said. “You didn’t deserve it full stop. Doesn’t matter if you took his jacket from him or not. Men like him are fucking scum. They’ll use any excuse to justify their disgusting actions. You didn’t do a single thing to lead him on, Lily. I know you, and I know you wouldn’t do that.”

  “You used to know me,” she said with a faint smile.

  I nodded and put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulders gently to try and calm her nerves some more. “I guess you’re right. I don’t really know you anymore. That’s on me. I shouldn’t have cut you and your dad out the way I did.”

  She shook her head. “No, no. You shouldn’t have listened to what I said yesterday morning. I was being rude and awful. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, now. You weren’t. You were right,” I admitted. “What your mother did…it wasn’t your fault. Wasn’t Craig’s fault. I needed support back then. So did you, so did your dad. Would’ve been nice if we all stuck together. But I couldn’t…”

  My voice trailed off, and Lily nodded sagely. “I know. Couldn’t handle it. It was too hard with Jenna dead, and my mom…well, wherever she is.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, and then Lily spoke up again. “I guess it’s lucky I was on my way to an evening therapy session. Gonn
a need it after this,” she said drily.

  I chuckled and gave her another sympathetic shoulder rub. My groin was burning with the feel of my hand on her body, but I pushed away any and all impure thoughts of her. Now wasn’t the time. Right now she wasn’t the gorgeous young woman I’d fantasized about for the last two days. She was just little Lily Rubio again, looking to me for something she thought only a mature adult could give her—warmth and protection. I had to be that adult now; be that father figure she needed while her own father wasn’t around.

  “At least you’ve got a bit of a sense of humor about it already. That always helps,” I replied.

  She mumbled a noncommittal response and nodded. I wanted to know why she was on her way to therapy, wanted to ask her everything. But it wasn’t my place. Wasn’t my business. At least not yet.

  “Jump in,” I said, standing up and jabbing a thumb toward my car. “I’ll call someone to tow your car home, and I’ll take you to your session. In the city, I presume?”

  She nodded and jumped up too. “In Darch. Western suburbs.”

  “I know where that is. Not far at all, once you’re out of the sticks and within the city limits.”

  She nodded again, then hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I could just borrow your phone to call Dad to pick me up.”

  “It’s no problem at all. I was actually on my way into the city for dinner anyway. How long is your session?”

  “An hour.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll eat while you do that, and then I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Okay. Jackson, I don’t know how…how to thank you. You’re being so nice. After I was such a brat yesterday, too,” Lily said softly, hanging her head.

  I chuckled again. “You’re only nineteen. I think you’re allowed to be a brat occasionally for another couple of years yet.” That’s right. Only nineteen, I reminded myself. “Like I said before, you don’t need to thank me,” I added.

  “I feel like I do,” she murmured, almost breathlessly. She peeked up at me shyly through her long, thick eyelashes, as if she were waiting for something. Waiting for me to do something.

  It took every fucking inch of willpower I had to resist leaning down and kissing her while she was in this vulnerable state. Getting just one little taste of her sweet mouth was so tempting. So tantalizing. And when would I have a shot like this again? After tonight, when would I ever be this physically close to her again with emotions running high like this? Sure, she’d be interning for my office soon, but that didn’t mean we’d be working closely together. I might only see her for a few seconds a day across the office.

  So this could be it. This could be my chance.

  But I knew I couldn’t. If I did, I’d be just as bad as any other guy who tried to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. Just because she was giving me that look right now didn’t mean it was right for me to touch her, kiss her, caress her.

  No.

  If I ever touched her, it would have to be on her terms as well as mine. She wouldn’t have to feel vulnerable. I’d make sure she felt completely safe; completely in control of what was happening. I could get close to her again at another time. A better time. After all, I was Jackson fucking Barker. I could damn well make it happen.

  “Come on,” I said softly, gesturing to my car again. Her face fell slightly, but I knew I’d made the right call. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lily

  “So what’s on your mind, Lily?”

  Dr. Steinberg peered at me, one hand holding a pen and the other a notepad. She was an old-fashioned kind of therapist—handwritten notes, a leather sofa for me to lie back on, and so on—but she knew what she was talking about, and she’d really helped me in the past.

  I hesitated before answering her question. There was more than one thing on my mind right now, but I didn’t know exactly how to bring up my current crush. What could I say?

  Dr. Steinberg, I’m madly in lust with a man twice my age. All I can think about is sleeping with him, even though I have zero sexual experience, so I don’t know how or why these feelings are happening. I almost got sexually assaulted on the edge of a road earlier tonight, and even directly after such an awful incident, all I could damn well think about was kissing him. Oh, and he’s the old boyfriend of the woman my mother murdered…you know, the root of all my issues?

  Yeah, there was a lot to unpack there. Too much. Instead, I told her what I’d originally come here for.

  “The nightmares have started again,” I admitted. “They’re worse now.”

  “How so?”

  I ran her through the dreams I’d been having recently, and she frowned and nodded. “That does sound worse than the ones you used to have. Clearer. More eventful. Do you have any idea what it could all mean?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “I can try. But not yet. It’s helpful if you tell me your thoughts on it. You always know more about yourself than anyone else, Lily. Including me. The solution might already be in your mind, and we just need to coax it out if it’s there. So why do you think these dreams are happening? Your answer might not be right. But it’s a start.”

  I nodded. “Okay, I see what you mean. I guess….I guess I’ve been worrying that the reason the dreams are happening is because….”

  I hesitated, and Dr. Steinberg leaned forward. “Yes?”

  “Because maybe I have more memories of that day than I originally thought. Maybe it’s just taken this long for them to start coming back.”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s a possibility. But Lily, your dreams—from what you’ve described—make it seem as if you were responsible for Jenna’s murder. Now, we know you aren’t.”

  “Do we?” I cut in.

  “Well, we can be quite certain. It’s an open and shut case with the police. Your mother did it.”

  “Quite certain isn’t certain,” I insisted.

  Dr. Steinberg sighed. “Okay, for argument’s sake—let’s say the police are wrong, and maybe there is a chance your mother did not murder Jenna Potter. So what then? Why would it be you who did it? And where is your mother now? If she wasn’t guilty, why did she pack her things, clear out her bank accounts and go into permanent hiding, ostensibly to avoid prosecution?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I went crazy and did it, and she decided to cover for me.”

  She tapped her pen. “All right. We’ll come back to that in a moment. But first, I have a theory. Something I think is far more likely. I’d like you to hear it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I think perhaps part of you feels responsible for what happened back then, even though you weren’t literally responsible for it. That’s manifesting itself in these dreams, where you seem to be literally carrying out the murder. You see, you blame yourself for your mother snapping the way she did. You think maybe you could’ve helped her. Done something. Something to stop her from losing it, for want of a better term. Maybe that would’ve prevented Jenna’s death. But you feel as if you let this happen. You feel as if you didn’t do enough to stop it. And therefore you feel responsible. Does that sound like it could be true?”

  I nodded reluctantly. “Maybe. But I don’t know.”

  “If it is true, then you need to know something, Lily. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done. Your mother…she was disturbed. It’s not your fault she killed Jenna. You aren’t responsible for Jenna’s death.”

  “Okay. But what if it’s not just some weird mental analogy thing? What if I actually had something to do with her death, and I blocked it out until now? Maybe that’s what the dreams are—I’m remembering what I did.”

  “Lily, do you really think that as a thirteen-year-old girl you went and shot a woman to death?”

  I hesitated. It did sound ridiculous. But the dreams were so intense. Seeing all that blood…smelling that coppery scent so clearly….surely my imagination couldn’t conjure all that up. I had a de
ep gut feeling that I’d really been there that day, and I couldn’t make it go away no matter how much I told myself it was illogical.

  “You might be correct about memories finally returning,” Dr. Steinberg went on. “But you’re making far too big a leap from that. It doesn’t necessarily mean you killed Jenna. Perhaps you saw more that day than you initially recalled. Or heard more. Maybe that’s what is returning to you in your dreams. Do you think that could be possible?”

  “I suppose so,” I said quietly. “Like, maybe I was actually at Jackson’s house for some reason that day, and I saw the murder. And I’ve blocked that out for some reason.”

  “Exactly. Can you think of a reason why you might’ve been there that day?”

  I shook my head. “No. I was sick that day. And when Dad came home—after the cops told him what happened—he found me in bed. So even if I was there at Jackson’s and saw what Mom did, I apparently came straight home and got into bed instead of calling the police. Why would I do that?”

  “Perhaps you were traumatized. Confused. There’s any number of reasons, Lily. You were so young at the time.”

  “Thirteen isn’t that young,” I insisted.

  “I’d like to try something with you, if that’s all right,” Dr. Steinberg said, smoothly avoiding an argument with me. “Hypnosis is a pretty old technique, and most therapists wouldn’t employ it nowadays. But I’ve found it to be effective with some patients.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Really? Hypnosis?”

  She nodded. “Usually I’d use it as a trick for cessation of smoking or other negative habits. But it can be used to travel back to old memories, in a sense. What would happen is: I place you under and tell you where and when to go, and you tell me what you are seeing. You won’t remember any of it when you wake up, but I can record it and play it back to you so you can hear what you said. Would that be okay with you?”