“About what? Do you need money?” The venom from his words sent me back a few steps, but only for a second. He hadn’t changed. Harold Pittman was still the same man he’d been my entire life. What did I expect? For my father to drop to his knees and apologize for the years of torture? To beg me to forgive him?
“No,” I smiled, using my voice as my weapon. “I would never ask you for anything. Well, except one thing.”
“And what is that? Are you knocked up?” he scoffed, raking his eyes over my body. “I wouldn’t put it past you with what you do and all.”
“Presley?” my mother gasped, coming to the door. I didn’t miss the step my father made to block me from my mother. “Oh, Presley!”
“I’ve come to talk to both of you,” I announced, looking around him so that I could see my mom. Judith Pittman was still just as stunning as she had been the day I left home. Her nose looked a little smaller and I was pretty sure my dad had bought that for her. “I will only stay five minutes.”
“Let her in,” my mother whispered. “Please?” My eyes popped wide, because my father never did anything that she asked. Especially when it came to me … their daughter.
“Five minutes,” he growled, stepping aside. “And only because I don’t want the neighbors to call the police, thinking we have a delinquent in the neighborhood. You know, you didn’t have to dress like a fucking whore.”
I ignored the jab. He was trying to bully me and I wasn’t going to respond. No, I was here to make a point and a request. If they didn’t adhere to it, then there was nothing more I could do. I’d made up my mind that they wouldn’t be anything more than a fleeting memory after tonight.
“I’m here to tell you that this will be the last you see of me,” I started, stopping just inside the door. My eyes landed on his and I spoke without even taking a deep breath. “This is your only warning to not contact me. You are an alcoholic and an abuser. You do not run my life, and I will not tolerate the hateful texts and messages anymore. It stops … now.”
“You think so?” he snarled. “You are nothing to me and you upset your mother every time you call her. I should be reminding you daily of what a piece of shit you really are, Presley.” I started to defend myself, to tell him that I never called my mom. The truth was that she was the one who called me. She was the one who’d lied and protected him for thirty years. It was my own mother who had allowed the abuse for so very long.
“Your opinion means nothing to me,” I stressed, holding my hands loosely at my sides. I did not want to give him any reason to think I was going to show any aggression. “I’ve found my own way in life without your help. I’ve found a family who truly loves me for who I am and not what I have.”
“Who the hell would want you?” he laughed.
“The ones who took me in when you almost killed me,” I replied. A little part of me wanted him to show some regret … to show some sort of remorse for the things he’d done. When I looked up into his eyes, I saw none.
“Have you been doing drugs?” he sneered, ignoring my speech. I knew this was going to go nowhere, but I had to do it. That was when I smelled the whiskey. Without the wind, his stench was almost overpowering. I’d hoped that I’d caught him before he’d started hitting the bottle, but I was sadly mistaken.
“I’m leaving and I meant what I said,” I told them. “Don’t contact me.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” he snarled, stepping forward. My mother moved to stop him, but a harsh stare sent her cowering back in the corner.
“You should’ve gone through with the divorce,” I said, looking at my mom.
“It’s not what you think,” she replied, but her eyes told me something else. Was she being brainwashed that much?
“I tried to help you,” I said, fighting back tears. “You took his side in everything. The excuses and the lies, mom! Over your own daughter!”
“I’m sorry, Presley,” she whispered, tears clogging her voice. When she placed her hand on his shoulder, it was shaking, but the action sent the message. She wasn’t going to change. It was time for me to get out of there … and fast.
“Goodbye,” I said, turning to walk out the door. I gave him my back and did not respond to my mother’s tears. She’d cried so many times during my life that I could tell, even after all this time, which ones were real and which ones were fake. In fact, I couldn’t remember a time when her tears actually meant something.
As I stepped out the door, I noticed another cab rushing down the road and I wondered if the driver realized the roads were not clear enough for that speed. My driver opened his car door, one foot planted on the ground so that his head could peek up over the top of the door. The man frowned, his hand slowly reaching out for me. I didn’t quite understand what he was doing … until I felt it.
A flash of pain bloomed across my shoulder blade as I took my first step out the door. My body pitched forward and I threw my hands out to catch myself just as I heard my father curse. “You’re nothing but trash … just like your mother. I should’ve made her abort you when I had the chance.”
A foot connected with my hip and I cried out in pain. My eyes opened, knowing what was coming next, but I couldn’t even protect my face. My hand wouldn’t cooperate with my brain when I tried to lift it. His leather Prada reared back, but the strike was diverted by my mother’s pleading. She stopped him for once and, if I wasn’t in so much pain, I’d have been more shocked than I already was at that moment.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I cried, cursing myself because I couldn’t believe this man had seen my tears again. Only this time, my tears were of frustration, not of sadness.
“Get the fuck off my property before I have you arrested for trespassing,” my father yelled. “Get up or crawl your ass out of here.” I turned my head just as I saw his foot rearing back again. My mother grabbed his arm, but he elbowed her in the stomach, sending her back inside the door.
Voices and car doors slamming reached my ears. “Presley!”
“Who’re these thugs?” My father cursed, pointing his finger in my face. “You’re nothing! You’ll always be nothing!”
“You son of a bitch!” Garrison growled, leaping over my body and grabbing my father. I tried to cry out, but warmth that I’d come to consider my home … my real home, wrapped around my body. Sirens wailed off in the distance, but I wasn’t sure if they were coming for my father or if they were just passing by.
“Presley! Oh God, baby,” Ace cried out, leaning back a little so he could look me over. His hand fluttered around my face, looking for any blood, but there was none. I noticed when his eyes flickered to my throat, but I was already shaking my head.
“I’m okay,” I promised, trying to wiggle out of Ace’s hold, but he wasn’t going to let me move. My body trembled because it was cold outside. I was laying on the ground for fuck’s sake!
“Presley, your wrist is broken,” he said sadly, squeezing me tighter. I didn’t even realize that my wrist was at a weird angle until he said something. The pain registered and I sucked in a deep breath.
“Where is my father?” I asked, afraid to open my eyes.
“Garrison is dealing with him,” he snarled.
“Oh, shit,” I moaned, finally looking around. Garrison had my father on his face, one arm pulled up behind his head. I cringed when my best friend glanced over his shoulder and the look of total rage marred his features. He’d been waiting for a chance to kick my father’s ass and now that he had his hands on him, I was worried about what he would do.
“He will kill him,” I gasped, trying to lean forward. Ace held me tighter and mumbled something I couldn’t hear because my ears were starting to ring. “Don’t let Garrison kill him!”
“He won’t kill him, baby,” Ace said through gritted teeth. “Maybe just give him a dose of his own medicine.”
Police descended on the house, two officers rushing to the front door and one stopping beside Ace. A paramedic arrived a few seconds la
ter, wanting to know exactly what had happened.
“I really don’t know.” I paused, shaking my head to try and clear up what had happened in my own brain. “He punched me in the shoulder. I fell and he kicked me in the hip. I’m really okay, just need to have a moment.”
“Ma’am, we need to have your wrist looked at,” he ordered, reminding me again that I was injured.
The moment my father started wailing about injustice and how he was too important to go to jail, I felt a strange sense of peace come over me. Freedom…
I now knew that he in fact could go to jail for the things he’d done to me. I had proof from the cab driver who witnessed it and from the bruising that would surely start showing up on my skin in the next few hours. Unless the contusions had already started to darken.
This was it.
I was finally free.
My mother cried, rushing toward me, but I tucked my head into Ace’s chest. I couldn’t be around her either. She’d allowed my abuse for nineteen years and hadn’t done anything to protect me. I hated her for that, but I also loved her because she was my mom. How sick and twisted could someone be to still love a parent after all of the abuse they’d allowed? I really didn’t have an answer for that.
“Presley?” she pleaded, but I refused to talk to her. I just wanted to go back home… to my bus home. I wanted nothing more than to ask Ace to take me back to the venue and let me rest until the show started in a few hours.
“Mrs. Pittman, now is not the time,” Ace warned. “You have no rights to Presley. I ask that you move away or we are going to have more problems.”
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, still crying. God, I hated her fake tears.
“I’m the man who loves her,” he ground out, picking me up. He carried me over to the stretcher and climbed in the back of the ambulance when the paramedics gave him the go ahead.
“You love me?” I asked, tears gathering in my eyes.
“More than my own life.” He smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to my lips. “And don’t you ever run off to do something like this again. Got me?”
“I love you, Ace.”
“I know,” he grinned. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Yes,” I sighed. “I said what I needed to say, but I don’t think he liked it.”
“No, he didn’t,” Ace whispered, staring over his shoulder as we drove away from the house. “He won’t bother you ever again, I promise.”
“I know,” I agreed, closing my eyes. “I just want to get back to the bus and forget this ever happened. Everyone was right.”
“Right about what?” he asked, stroking the hair back from my face.
“The temptation was dangerous. It could’ve been fatal,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “But it was worth it to get my closure.”
“It’s going to be okay now, Presley,” he reassured me.
“I know it is.” I looked up at him, reaching out my good hand so that I could hold his.
We spent almost two hours at the hospital having my wrist examined and then casted. I’d refused the pain killers they’d offered me, saying that I wasn’t in that much pain. I didn’t tell Ace that I was more worried about him being around me while I was on the pills than I was about the ache in my wrist. I did promise I would stay on an over the counter pain killer for the next few days and would keep my wrist elevated until I felt better.
I think he knew why I’d refused them, but he never said anything about it. By the time we’d left the hospital, I only had enough time to grab something to eat before it was time to perform.
That night, I walked out on that stage and gave the best performance of my life. I’d never felt this free. The heaviness that had been lifted off of my shoulders the moment I knew my father would finally pay for his crimes should’ve been a sad moment for me, but it wasn’t, and I was okay with that. It was what needed to happen.
My life had taken an unexpected turn when I met Ace; the man who’d walked beside me patiently, letting me grow at my own pace. He was the man who truly loved me with all of his heart and I loved him just the same.
There was one way I wanted to repay him for all he’d done for me. It would take some research, but I was going to find the woman that had raised him. Before we got to Albuquerque, I would have a way of contacting Matilda Marshall for a long, overdue reunion.
Chapter 26
Ace
We had the hotel room in Amarillo for less than twenty four hours before we had to leave. We’d checked in only an hour ago and instead of sleeping, Presley and I immediately showered and climbed into the bed without drying off.
She’d been a new person after the incident with her father four days ago. I’d never seen her perform as well as she had the night he’d hurt her. I’d protested her going on stage that night, but she was determined to give the fans what they’d paid for, and they’d gotten Presley Pittman at her absolute best.
We’d already seen the reviews from the show in Denver and the one in Colorado Springs the night after. Each and every one of them focused on her performance. I didn’t even care that Fatal Cross had taken a backseat to them that night in Denver. Witch’s Spawn deserved the spotlight.
“Come here,” I said, pulling her flush with my body. Soft skin met mine and I ran my hands down her side. I couldn’t get enough of her. Everything about my girl set me on fire. “You’re beautiful.”
“Ace,” she blushed, tucking her head into my neck. She giggled when I pressed my lips to the side of her neck, and that sound alone made my heart ache with my love for the woman in my arms.
Presley’s lips turned up into a soft smile, her eyes darkening with need. I kissed her lazily, not really caring how long it took us to come together. We had plenty of time.
“I feel like I’ve been asleep for thirty years,” she whispered against my warm skin. “You make me feel alive, Ace.”
“I want you to feel alive,” I breathed, rolling over so that I was on my back. When Presley straddled my hips, my cock jumped. I lifted my hips so that she could feel how bad I wanted her. Her hair was down around her beautiful face, the deep brown locks flowing effortlessly over her shoulders to cover her nipples. I loved the feel of the silky strands so much that my hand tangled in them, pulling her down to meet my lips. “I want you to be mine… forever.”
“I am yours, forever.” She smiled around my next kiss. What she didn’t know was that I had more than just my words to back up what I was saying.
I slid my hand underneath the pillow, my fingers closing around a velvet box. I’d hidden it earlier in hopes that I could make this a surprise. My heart pounded in my chest as she pressed her lips to mine once more, still clueless as to what I’d planned.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered softly. She didn’t question me, proving she had given me all of her trust. For a second, I relished in that, knowing that she gave me that trust so freely. “Sit up for me, Presley. Don’t look.” I had to use the hand that wasn’t hiding under the pillow to hold her casted hand as she sat up on my lap.
“Okay,” she blushed, sitting back. Her sex rested over my hardness. I could feel how much she wanted me. It was distracting, but I wasn’t going to forgo my plans just to sink into her.
I slowly opened the box, setting it on my chest. I ran my left hand up her leg and wrapped my fingers around her waist, anchoring her where she sat.
“Presley?” I began, giving her hip a little squeeze. She took my cue and opened her eyes, gasping when she saw the ring nestled in the box on my chest. “I’ve loved you since the first time I ever laid eyes on you. In all of my years, I never thought I would find someone who could love me for who I am, regardless of my past or my future. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Oh, Ace,” she cried. I smiled when she let out a little hiccup before covering her mouth with the hand I didn’t need. The silver ring slid out of the box and into my hand. I looked up at her with anticipation of her answer. I wanted to shout to the hea
vens when she gave me her answer with a breathy sigh. “Yes. Yes, Ace. I’ll marry you.”
I slid the ring on her finger and pulled her down so I could show her all the ways I was going to thank her for agreeing to marry me.
Chapter 27
Ace
“I have something I need to tell you,” Presley said, taking a seat next to me on the couch. My hand held hers, my thumb and middle finger rubbing absently on the engagement ring I’d given her.
“What is it?” I asked, my concern for her growing. “What’s wrong?” I immediately checked her wrist, looking for any signs of swelling in her fingers. She was still healing and the cast wouldn’t come off for another month or so.
“I’m fine,” she giggled, pulling her hand out of my reach. “You worry too much.”
“I know,” I smirked. When was she going to learn that I would worry about her for the rest of my life? “What do you need to tell me?”
“I found Matilda Marshall,” she frowned.
“What?” I gasped, my childhood memories rushing back. The smile that lit my face immediately fell when I noticed the sadness in her eyes. “Presley?”
“I want to take you to see her,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I think you should go.”
“Yes.” I paused, taking her face with my hands. There were unshed tears there and I wanted to hurt whoever put that sadness in her eyes. “I’d love to see her, but Presley, you don’t look happy about this. What is going on?”
“Oh, Ace,” she cried. “Matilda passed away three years ago. I found her grave and I wanted to take you to see her.”
“Where is it?” I choked out. The woman who’d practically raised me was deceased and I hadn’t known. Hell, I’d tucked tail the day after my eighteenth birthday and never returned.
“Come on,” she said as she stood, holding out her hand. “I’ve taken care of everything.”
Coraline waited outside in a smaller black SUV. She nodded as Presley opened the door for me to climb inside. I didn’t say anything as we left the buses. She took my hand as we drove away, but the silence in the car was enough for me to remain quiet and not ask any questions.
Fatal Temptations (Fatal Cross Live! Book 2) Page 17
