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Dungeon Daddy

Page 19

by Jane Henry


  Mom is missing.

  A feeling of dread pooling in the pit of my stomach, I tossed my notebook in my apron pocket, and ignoring shouts from Linus and pleas from Gavin, I ran outside with Lucy to see what had happened

  My heart stuttered in my chest.

  Just around the bend where I’d run into the huge jerk this morning were two cars twisted sickeningly, and one of them I knew all too well: my mom’s old navy Buick, the one I’d carefully hidden the keys for the night before. The other? The most expensive-looking car I’d ever laid eyes on.

  I raced to the scene of the accident as sirens screamed in the background and onlookers crowded around the cars.

  “Mom!” Was she okay? God! She wasn’t supposed to drive. She couldn’t be trusted not to hurt herself, or anyone else. The dash was demolished, and windshield shattered. Oh, God. If she hurt herself…if she hurt anyone else…

  “Annabelle!” My mom’s wobbly voice came from the left, and when I turned, my eyes widened in disbelief. No way. No how.

  God, NO.

  My mom stood next to the man whose coffee I’d spilled this morning, his white shirt still drenched with the dark brown liquid. My mother rushed toward me, as his eyes narrowed on mine, his enormous arms crossing his chest.

  “Mom, are you okay?” I asked, looking over her frail body. She was still wearing her pale blue pajamas, and a pair of slippers, her gray-streaked hair tied back in a messy ponytail, no glasses in sight. God. Where was Melody?

  “I’m fine,” my mom said, with a wave of her hand. “But this one over here thinks it’s fine to run stop lights. He ought to be put in jail!” She glared at the man, whose eyes narrowed even further. His jaw clenched as he glared right back at her, pulling his phone out of his pocket and putting it up to his ear. He pointed one angry finger at me, commanding me to stay right where I was.

  There was no need. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  As police cars pulled up with flashing blue and red lights, I grimaced, and a stranger stepped up to me, an elderly woman with a raincoat pulled tight about her. “She’s at fault, ma’am,” she said. “I saw the whole thing.”

  “You hush your mouth!” my mom began.

  I put a placating hand on her arm. In the early stages of dementia, my mom was in no position to be driving, let alone giving an accurate account of what happened, which was why I’d hidden the keys to begin with. My sister was supposed to be on duty.

  “Mom, please be quiet,” I whispered, trying my best to keep my cool, when the big beast of a man shut off his phone and stalked over to us, joined by two police officers and a paramedic crew.

  His deep voice commanded the situation, as all eyes went to him. “The light turned green, and I began to drive,” he said, “when this ancient piece of junk slammed right into my passenger side.”

  “How dare you call me an ancient piece –”

  He held up a hand. “I’m talking about your car, not you. Please do not interrupt me. Fortunately, I was alone and it appears no one was truly hurt. The cars, on the other hand, are totaled.” His eyes narrowed on me. “Am I to presume that you are the one responsible for this woman?” His gaze wandered over her pajamas and slippers.

  I swallowed, embarrassed by my mother’s display, horrified at the damage she’d caused, but furious at his dismissal of the one person I loved more than anyone in the entire world.

  “Yes,” I said, through clenched teeth. “This is my mother.” I glared back at him, defying him to insult my own flesh and blood. His eyes narrowed on me, but he said nothing.

  “Annabelle,” Officer Jones said gently. I went to school with this guy, and knew him well. With a sigh, I looked at him and nodded. “We’ve talked about this before, okay? Allowing your mother to drive like this, without supervision, is very dangerous.”

  “Matthew,” I began. “I—” but it was too late. My mother heard all.

  “How dare you talk about me as if I’m a child?” she said, her voice carrying over the crowd as my hand goes to her arm, attempting to calm her.

  “Mom—”

  “I am no older than your mother, Officer, and I am perfectly capable of driving. If this one over here hadn’t been driving like such an idiot, we wouldn’t have gotten into an accident!”

  I sighed with practiced patience. “Mom, calm down. We need to get you examined,” I said, hoping to distract her. I looked to Matthew. “Can we give a report at the hospital?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Of course, Annabelle. I think they both should be checked out. Mrs. Symphony, try to relax, and we’ll bring you in to make sure you’re okay.” He turned to the big guy who was still glowering as if he were ready to breathe fire. “And you, let’s get you looked over as well.”

  I turned my back to both of them, closing my eyes as the paramedics looked over Mom.

  His car was worth more than my entire house. How would we ever get out of this?

  Read Beauty’s Daddy here.

  A note from the author

  Thank you for reading Dungeon Daddy: A Rapunzel Adult Fairy Tale. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this book!

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  About the Author

  Jane is a bestselling erotic romance author in multiple genres, including contemporary, historical, sci-fi, and fantasy. She pens stern but loving alpha heroes, feisty heroines, and emotion-driven happily ever afters. Jane is a hopeless romantic who loves the ocean, her houseful of children, her awesome husband, chocolate, coffee, and sexy romance.

  You can stalk Jane here!

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  Twitter handle: @janehenryauthor

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