Hero Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t you I was seeing. I promise.”

  Zac nodded then held out his hand. Lara rushed towards him. “Bye Betsy, see you next week.”

  “Bye, Lara.” There was a sad note to Betsy’s voice that he didn’t like.

  He ran his hand up and down her back and she snuggled into his chest. “What would you like to do now, button?”

  “Can we….could we stay just like this for a while?”

  “For as long as you need,” he promised. He started rocking again and she relaxed against him. “I have you. Daddy has you.”

  And he didn’t want to let her go.

  * * *

  The mask was back on.

  She’d changed outfits, keeping the one he’d given her at the club in her locker. She climbed in the back of the Lincoln town car.

  Instantly, she realized her mistake.

  She’d become complacent or maybe it was just that she was a freaking emotional mess tonight and that was interfering with her instincts.

  Whatever it was, she should have been on alert the instant she opened that door. She’d been lucky this past month. He’d been away on business. He hadn’t been paying her as much attention.

  Well, that was all changing.

  “Hello, Betsy.”

  The cloying scent of Old Spice filled the air, nearly choking her. Or maybe that was her fear. Her loathing.

  “What? No greeting? That’s rude. Don’t you think that’s rude, Kit? Maybe you need a lesson on manners.”

  The voice was like oil, coating her skin, blocking her senses. All she could hear was the beating of her heart. And it was going too fast. Sweat drenched her. Her breath came in pants.

  Rein it in, Betsy. You can’t let him see your fear.

  No, her fear just fed his depravity.

  “Hello, Forrest,” she managed. Shoot, there was a wobble in her voice that she knew he’d pick up on.

  He was evil. Pure evil. The worst person she’d met in her life. And that was saying something considering who she’d been married to. A bully. A murderer.

  And the right-hand man of the asshole now sitting next to her. Forrest Robins.

  The devil.

  “Such a cold greeting when I’ve been gone so long. Why don’t you sit closer? Tell me how our mission has been going. I want to hear all about it.”

  “I’ve given you my reports.”

  Kit took a corner too fast and she slid closer to Forrest. Crap. The last thing she wanted was to breathe the same air he did, yet if she didn’t obey him, then her life would instantly become a whole lot more complicated.

  And painful.

  So she forced herself to stay where she was rather than sliding back across the seat.

  He placed his big hand on her thigh. His little finger rubbed close to her pussy. Her insides shriveled.

  It shocked her that he hadn’t raped her yet. For a man like Forrest, it would be nothing. Almost a rite of passage. He owned her. Why shouldn’t he use her?

  But it seemed he enjoyed torturing her with the idea of it more. She knew it was coming. She just didn’t know when.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Or maybe he knew it would send her over the edge and he’d lose his little toy. His slave.

  “Tell me what progress you’ve made with that idiot biker.”

  She wanted to tell him that Ink was worth a thousand of him. A million. God, what she wouldn’t give to be in his arms right now. It shocked her how easily she let him touch her. Touch wasn’t something she’d been able to stomach for years. Yet she craved his touch.

  His attention. His affection. Even his discipline.

  She desired everything about him. Every inch.

  She just wished that she wasn’t betraying him.

  “Everything is progressing nicely. I told you that I made contact. We scene regularly.” She hadn’t told him exactly how they’d been scening but she wasn’t naïve enough to think that there weren’t spies in the club who were reporting her every move.

  “That’s all?” His voice was silky smooth and she wasn’t fooled. When Forrest was at his deadliest, he didn’t yell or scream. He grew calm. People thought him sophisticated and charming. But he was a snake in the grass. He lured people in.

  Then he attacked.

  His hold on her thigh was so hard she knew she was going to bruise. How would she explain that to Ink?

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  She searched for something to give him. “He wants my phone number. I think he might want to meet up outside the club.”

  The grip on her thigh eased and she found herself breathing more easily. “That’s some progress. But I want more. I want you to infiltrate his life. I want you to gain his trust. I want you in their inner circle. Introduced to those fucking pricks he calls brothers. You’re my instrument to take him down and you need to be close in order to land the killing blow.”

  Her breath grew faster. Sharper.

  Damn. Don’t let him see your reaction.

  “You’re planning on killing him?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Why no, my dear, I’m not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Surprise filled her as they pulled up outside Forrest’s mansion. It was a horrid thing. Cold, gray and sterile. She hated this place. Hated all it represented.

  Her lack of freedom.

  Kit stopped the car then jumped out to open the back door. Kit had taken over from her husband when he’d died. He was just as ruthless, but without Rex’s hot temper. No, Kit ran completely cold. It was almost like he was devoid of emotion.

  He pretended. But it wasn’t really there.

  She was surprised when he didn’t go with Forrest on this last trip. But he’d probably stayed behind to keep an eye on her. They had to know she wasn’t going anywhere.

  She couldn’t.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  “Go upstairs, my dear. Get some rest. You look like shit.”

  She took the reprieve, forcing herself to walk calmly up the stairs. If she showed any eagerness to get away, he’d just make her spend the next few hours in his company.

  But she couldn’t stop herself from thinking. If he wasn’t going to kill Ink, then what the hell did he mean by killing blow?

  She realized she had a choice. Go up to her room, keep herself safe for another night. Or find out what they really wanted with Ink.

  She couldn’t just stand by while they hurt Ink. Somehow, despite her best efforts to keep herself apart, from feeling anything, she’d come to care about him.

  The idea of him being used by Forrest, that she was helping to hurt him…it made her want to hurl.

  So instead of moving towards the stairs as she would have any other night, she walked to his office. She hated this room. Her pulse pounded; nausea bubbled in her stomach.

  Kit was the first to spot her. He was seated on the couch. Forrest was pouring them both some Scotch. They had a different relationship than Rex had with Forrest. More like they were on an equal footing.

  Kit raised his eyebrows. But that was the only reaction he showed. The coldness in his face didn’t lighten. Rex had scared her. This guy terrified her.

  Forrest turned and saw her standing there. He took a sip of Scotch. “Was there something you wanted?”

  Be brave, Betsy.

  It felt like she’d been a coward her whole life. As though she’d always taken the easier road. Not that it had ever ended up easy for her.

  Maybe it was time to jump off the cliff. To take her fear and shove it where the sun didn’t fucking shine.

  Ooh, Mama wouldn’t like that saying. Mama didn’t like women who swore, so she’d learned to only swear inside her head. A silent defiance.

  She didn’t look him in the eyes. Looking evil in the eyes never ended well.

  “What is the killing blow?”

  Forrest stalked towards her. She had to force herself not to move. Kit sighed, sounding bored.

  “Since when do you get
to demand things, Betsy?”

  Uh-oh. Normally that voice would have her running for her room. But she had to know. Needed to know.

  “If I’m helping to do this shouldn’t I know what you plan to do?”

  He wrapped a hand around her neck and pushed her back several steps until she slammed into the wall. She held in a grunt of pain. Letting him see that he’d hurt her would please him too much.

  Then he might do it again.

  And again.

  He held his hand around her throat. So tightly she could scarcely breathe. He leaned in; his breath smelled like scotch.

  “You get to know nothing. Because you are nothing. All you are is a pawn for me to use, isn’t that right, Betsy? Because I own you, don’t I? So what you get to know is what I tell you. Just do as you’re fucking told and you’ll get to live another day.”

  He drew her away from the wall then shoved her out the door, closing it behind her. She fell back on her ass on the floor, wincing as pain radiated up her tailbone.

  She sat there for a moment, wrapping her arms around her legs as she brought them up to her chest.

  Heaving in breath after breath, she tried to bring her shaking under control. One day, he’d lose his control. He’d take things too far. And then she’d be dead.

  With a longing glance, she stared over at the front door. She knew she wouldn’t even get off the property. There were cameras and alarms everywhere. Someone was always listening and watching.

  She had no privacy. No will of her own. A pawn in an evil man’s game.

  But she couldn’t just stand by and let him ruin a good man’s life. Maybe he didn’t plan to kill Ink, but there was some reason he was making her do this. Making her get close to him.

  She bet he’d never thought of her going against him. That she’d actually come to care for Ink.

  There was a low rumbling noise and she glanced up, frowning as she realized that the door was still partially open. After a quick glance around to ascertain she was alone, she moved closer to the door. It was risky. If someone was monitoring the cameras and saw her then Forrest would lose his shit.

  But this was her chance.

  “Stupid bitch. Does she really think she gets to ask questions? She needs to learn her place.”

  “Betsy will do as she’s told. You have enough over her to ensure that,” Kit said in that bored voice.

  “Ought to go up there and teach her a fucking lesson.”

  She stiffened at the sound of footsteps, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide.

  “It will delay your plans if you bruise her,” Kit reminded his boss.

  “Fuck.”

  “You still want to frame the biker for your brother’s murder?”

  What? He wanted to put the blame on Ink for Jonathan’s murder? But why? What did Forrest even care? Unless…

  “I need to get the old man to stop focusing on me. I need to give him a scapegoat. Those fucking MC dickheads are perfect. They’re nobodies. Not tied to anyone who will retaliate. And they were seen outside Jonathan’s house in the weeks leading up to his murder.”

  “And Ink is the one without a solid alibi for that night,” Kit surmised.

  “Exactly. All we need is Betsy to get close to him, plant some fucking evidence then steer the stupid pigs onto him.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard.”

  “Not that he’ll be going to jail. The old man will make sure he comes to some nasty end before then. But I need to look squeaky clean so that the old man never suspects that I framed that fucking biker dickhead. Which is where Betsy comes in. We’ll need to get rid of her after.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Both men laughed. And she turned, rushing up the stairs, her hand over her mouth. She barely made it into her private bathroom before her meagre dinner came back up. She vomited until there was nothing left. Then she lay on the cool, marble floor trying to get her racing thoughts to make sense of it all.

  She rested a hand on her queasy stomach. Forrest hadn’t been close to his brother as far as she could tell. She had met his father once. While he was a respected member of society, there was something very off about him.

  Forrest was going to frame Ink for murder. He had some sort of evidence for her to plant once she got closer to Ink.

  She had to warn him.

  The only question was how could she do it without signing her own death warrant?

  9

  Betsy felt awful.

  She hadn’t slept. She’d lain awake all night thinking about what she’d learned, trying to figure out some way she could warn Ink. Without it costing her everything. She needed to tell him he was in danger.

  He’ll hate you once he learns the truth.

  She winced at that thought. It shouldn’t hold sway. She shouldn’t care. It wasn’t like they were ever going to be able to have a relationship. This was all fake.

  Right, those feelings you have for him are totally fake.

  Eventually, he’d find out that she wasn’t who she said she was.

  She was a complete and utter lie.

  But what did it matter if he hated her? Better he hate her and be alive.

  That’s what mattered here. Keeping him safe and alive.

  She walked towards Forrest’s office. She’d delayed as long as she could. It was nearly eleven. Ink was expecting her to text him. She needed a phone.

  Thing One was standing in front of the door to Forrest’s office. Awesome. Thing One was only slightly more appealing than Thing Two. But not by much. Pockmarked with a nose that had been broken too many times to heal properly, his eyebrows had almost formed a unibrow and the chest hair that poked through his shirt could have done an otter proud.

  He had a perpetual scowl on his face, which he aimed her way as she approached him. She’d rather deal with him than Thing Two. But she knew where one was, the other wasn’t far behind.

  Thing One was scary. He was all brawn and no brain. Thing Two wasn’t much smarter. But he was far creepier.

  Thing One’s gaze caught on her near non-existent boobs. She’d had some once. A long time ago, before anxiety had made eating an almost impossible task.

  “What do you want?” he growled.

  “I need to speak with Forrest.”

  “He’s busy.”

  She sighed. “I need to speak with him. It’s important.”

  She didn’t want to see him. She wanted to go hide in her room or the small sitting room at the back of the house where she spent most of her time.

  Each day was a kind of torture. Time moved so slow. All of it a waste.

  “What’s going on?” a weaselly voice asked from behind her. “Betsy causing trouble again?”

  Great. So much for only having to deal with one of them. She turned side-on. She knew better than to have her back to one of Forrest’s men. Thing Two looked nothing like Thing One. He was thin. His head was bald and shiny. He reminded her of a ferret. He was never still. Always moving. And those beady eyes made her feel ill.

  “I need to speak with Forrest.”

  “Boss is busy. Got orders not to interrupt.”

  She let out a breath. She knew she wasn’t getting past them. That left one option.

  “Where’s Kit?”

  Thing Two’s eyebrows rose. “Why? What do you need with Kit? That asshole is practically a monk. Me and Frank, we can provide your greedy cunt with whatever it needs, right, Frank?”

  “Huh?” Thing One asked. As usual, unable to follow along.

  Thing Two grabbed his crotch. “Been a while for you, Betsy? Bet you’re needing some meat between your legs. Put you in a better fucking mood. My anaconda will fucking rip you in two.”

  God, could he be more disgusting?

  “Anaconda? More like a worm is my guess,” she said disdainfully.

  She should have been more careful. She was losing more and more sense of self-preservation as time wore on. He grabbed her arm and spun her, slamming her back against
the wall. With his other hand, he grabbed hold of her neck. What was it with these guys and trying to suffocate her?

  He glared at her. “You want to be nice to me, Betsy. ‘Cause you don’t want to find out what happens when you’re not. What you fucking need is a cock in your mouth to teach you how to talk properly to a man when he offers to wet his schlong in your fucking dried-up cunt.”

  Stars danced in front of her eyes as she clawed at his hand. She couldn’t breathe. Was this it? Was this seriously the way her life ended?

  “There a reason why you’re touching the boss’s property?” a cold voice asked.

  He eased his grip, turning away from her. She bent over slightly, taking in deep breaths as her body shook. Tears flooded her eyes and she hastily blinked them back.

  Show no reaction.

  “She needed a lesson in manners,” Thing Two whined.

  “The boss tell you that you could touch her?” Kit asked calmly.

  “She called his dick a worm,” Thing One said helpfully.

  “Shut up, Frank,” Thing Two snapped back.

  “Sounds pretty accurate to me,” Kit drawled. “It’s a mystery how you manage not to piss on your foot with how small that thing is.”

  Shock filled her as Thing Two took a swing at Kit. Was he insane? The other man dodged the hit then grabbed Thing Two’s hand twisting it behind his back until something popped and Thing Two howled.

  “Don’t fucking touch what doesn’t belong to you,” Kit said, pushing Thing Two away. “And take a swing at me again and I’ll end you. Fuck off, both of you.”

  It wasn’t until Thing One and Two had slipped away that she realized she was alone. With Kit. And that he’d saved her.

  She was under no illusion that it was because he cared. Or out of the goodness of his heart.

  No, it was because he was smart. They couldn’t afford to harm or bruise her while they needed her. That’s what made Kit more deadly than all of them.

  He didn’t let emotion touch him.

  “I assume you want to see Forrest about this.” He drew a cell phone out of his pocket.

  Her breath caught at the sight but she made certain not to show her eagerness. Any sign of weakness would be used against her.