Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

by Blue Saffire

  “Hurry up,” her dad barked when she was midway down the hall.

  “I’m coming.” She stepped into the den, thinking when she moved out, she’d never use brown and oranges like her father had. The room was depressing and dark. She paused a few steps into the room as she spied a stranger. Panic flared. What was her father up to? The guy was older, his frown not doing him any favors in making him look decent. A yellow stain trailed down his shirt, over his keg-sized belly and onto the leg of his pants. The grease slick in his hair scared her. She wouldn’t want to touch his hair.

  “Get over here,” her father growled, anger tinging his voice.

  She hesitated. Would he hit her again? She moved deeper into the room, keeping her distance from her dad and the stranger.

  “Who is this?” she asked, worry increasing at his frown.

  “He’s Bruce. He owes me. Said he’d marry you.”

  She shook her head, fighting the rising panic. Not in a million years would she date some stranger her father brought in, and she sure as hell wouldn’t marry him, even if he looked amazing. That wasn’t how marriage worked in her mind.

  “I’m not marrying him.” Her voice shook, and she hated that he could hear her fear.

  “The hell you aren’t. You’re damn lucky someone like Bruce was willing to take you.”

  “No way.” She held up her hands and backed up.

  Her dad rushed forward and grabbed her arm, pain flashing as he squeezed tighter. He yanked her hard, almost throwing her off balance. She fought his hold, praying she could get free.

  “You will marry him. And then you’ll do as he says,” her dad yelled, his eyes flashing with anger.

  He yanked her again, almost making her fall. She’d been ignoring the stranger until that point. She glanced up, seeing lust fire in his eyes as he licked his cracked lips. Revulsion snaked through her. The guy was getting off on her being jerked around.

  She yanked her arm hard, but her father only jerked her back to him even harder.

  “No!” she yelled as she stomped on his foot. He screamed and let go, freeing her from his clutches. Shannon lurched away, trying to stay away from both her dad and the stranger. Her wrist throbbed. It was her right arm, her scissor hand. Her final haircut would be judged for a grade, and now she would have to deal with an injury. This could derail her. What if she was in too much pain to do the cut?

  Panic rose and only increased as her father’s face turned even redder. He threw up his hand, and she reached back, feeling her way as she slid along the furniture and the wall, looking for an escape.

  “Then get out!” her father yelled.

  Her head spun, and her stomach rolled. How would she finish school without a place to live? She needed somewhere to sleep. Her equipment—where would she store it? She needed her things for her tests and her state board finals.

  “Get out!” Her dad picked up a bottle off the scarred side table and threw it at her.

  The glass shattered on the floor at her feet. The shriek she let loose echoed around them. She turned and raced down the hall to her room, her father’s words lost in the haze of her mind.

  She slammed the door and turned the little lock thing as she backed away, fear pinging all her nerves.

  The pounding on her door started almost immediately. “Get out. Get out now. I’m getting my gun.”

  Panic flashed.

  Would her dad shoot her?

  Probably.

  She rifled through her closet, grabbing her suitcase and a bag before she reached for her equipment for class. Usually, she kept everything at school, but she’d brought home a few items here and there, and then she had her good shears.

  There was too much to grab, too many clothes, too many books, too much stuff. She didn’t have long. Her dad would be back with a gun. A gun? Who the freak uses a gun on their own child?

  The shouting from her dad outside her door made her jump. Did he have the gun? He wanted her to leave. Jesus, why had she stayed here so long. She could have worked after school, but it would have meant almost no sleep since she was in class for almost forty hours each week.

  A loud thump sounded on the door, and she jumped. Panic increased. The door flew open, and her father stepped in, gun in hand.

  “Get out, or I’ll shoot you.”

  Fear swamped her. Sweat ran down her face and between her shoulder blades. Her hands shook so much she dropped a box of bobby pins, sending them flying across the carpet.

  “I-I’m hurrying. I need my stuff.”

  He moved over and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her out of her room. She shrieked, yelling for him to let go. He clamped down harder, hurting her. He was bigger, and he used that to his advantage, pulling her out of the house. Kicking and screaming, she tried to escape his hold, but it was no use. He was too strong, and she couldn’t get any leverage.

  Once outside he shoved her hard, causing her to trip and fall to the dirt, her hands left stinging as she stopped her fall. He fired off one shot, hitting the dirt beside her.

  “Jesus Christ!” She flipped over. Her hands and feet flapped about, floundering as she tried to escape. Even though she wanted to stay and fight, the need to flee took over. Her dad had always been a little crazy, but he was unhinged today.

  “My stuff. I have to have it for school.”

  “Get out! You won’t marry who I say, then you’re not welcome here.”

  The need to graduate overrode her need for safety, and she stood, squaring her shoulders. “Trust me, once I get my stuff, you’ll never have to see me again.”

  “Out!” he screamed as he fired the gun into the air.

  She flinched, but if she left, her things would be thrown out. She wouldn’t be able to cut hair or have the equipment she needed. Sure, she could pass the test without her books, but she needed her shears.

  The chirp of police sirens drew her attention for a half second. When she glanced back at her father, the gun was lifted, barrel pointed straight at her.

  She stumbled backward over the chipped concrete walkway, trying to escape her dad, but she fell. Pain raced up her arms and her head pounded. How had she gotten to this place?

  From the ground, she stared up at her father, pleading with her gaze for him to stop this. Her mind flashed to Striker and the baby and panic set in. Everything buzzed and her need to protect the baby grew. She couldn’t allow her father to kill her, not with the baby growing inside her, not without saying goodbye to Striker.

  14

  Shannon knew her father was a lunatic. He was still raving and yelling even with the cops there.

  She glanced at the cops and found them out of their cars, guns pointed at her father. She didn’t know when that had happened since she’d been trying to stay upright and not trip over the sidewalk or bushes.

  Panic and shock had her operating at a deficit. She needed her things, but she would die if she raced back into that house. She didn’t want her dad to die, not really, but he was acting like a crazy loon.

  She’d made it almost to the curb and was still moving when the cop’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker.

  “Put the gun down, sir.”

  She stumbled off the curb and into the street, tripping backward. She caught herself on the pavement, the sting in her hands increasing. Her eyes landed on her dad, his beady stare focused only on her. For a second, she believed he would shoot again.

  “Put the gun on the ground. Now!” The cop sounded more insistent, more like he meant business.

  She inched back, seeking some sort of safety but knowing she wouldn’t find it. She’d lost her family, her home, her everything, and Striker wasn’t calling.

  “Ma’am, come this way.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. A cop motioned to her, his eyebrows raised. On shaky legs, she moved to him, fear finally coming out as tears.

  Life had turned crazy. She was standing in the street with cops while her dad pointed a gun at her.

  Panic drove her to b
eg. “Oh God, oh God, don’t shoot him. He’s a freaking idiot, but don’t shoot.”

  “Do you know him?” the cop asked.

  Another police car sped close, lights flashing. The new car skidded to a stop, and a guy hopped out, gun drawn.

  She was out of control, and she felt like she was in one of those falling dreams, but the freefall wouldn’t stop. It just kept going, and she feared hitting bottom.

  Her father still hadn’t put the gun on the ground, but he now had both hands up in the air, the gun gripped awkwardly in his fist. A door slammed behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, not seeing anything. Were their neighbors watching this circus?

  The clear blue sky and birds chirping were directly opposite to the storm brewing in front of her. She clutched her hands close, trying to control the fear.

  Her dad started to bend over, his words jumbled. It sounded like he was going to give up.

  “Ma’am, could you tell me what happened.”

  Her head jerked up, and she stared at the cop, her mouth open, eyes wide as her muscles trembled. His words filtered through her brain, and she nodded but didn’t speak.

  “Ma’am, you just need to tell me what happened.”

  Her hands were shaking, so she clenched them tighter across her waist, her stomach rolling. “Um, sure. Sure. Oh my God, he actually shot at me.”

  The officer stayed calm, his voice even. “Ma’am, what happened?”

  “I was at home, and he brought some guy over.” She glanced around, pointing to the man who her dad had brought to the house. “That guy.”

  The cop spoke into the mic at his shoulder. “The man in the white shirt with dark hair and pale skin, grab him. He was inside the house.” The cop focused on her again. “And what else happened?”

  “Um, so I was in my room studying, and my dad called for me to come out. It’s easier just to try and make him happy. But he wasn’t happy because I said no.” She stared at her dad. He’d been handcuffed, and he had his head down as the cop spoke to him. Goose bumps broke out over her shoulders. He couldn’t hurt her, not now.

  “Said no to what?” The cop’s low voice broke through her musings.

  She blinked at him, not understanding the question at first. Then she remembered. “He said I had to marry that guy. I don’t even know his name.”

  “So he said you had to marry that guy over there, and you don’t know his name?”

  “No, I’ve never seen him before. I have no idea who he is.”

  The cop nodded as he wrote something down in a small notebook. “Okay, so what else happened?”

  “Oh God, he could have shot me.”

  The cop stood taller, his lips thinned. “Ma’am, what happened inside the house?”

  For the life of her, she couldn’t think as she stared into the cop’s crystal-blue eyes. They reminded her of the sky. Why was she thinking of the sky now? Her hands and her knees were shaking so bad she needed to sit.

  “We’ll get you a blanket. Could you tell me what else happened?”

  She closed her eyes, thinking about everything that had gone down in the den with her father, how he’d chased her. Another shiver snaked through her.

  “He-he wanted me to marry that guy. I said no. Then he hurt me—he grabbed my arm and yanked, trying to force me to do God only knows what. I ran to my room to gather my things. He broke in and started threatening me with his gun.”

  “So your father said you had to marry that guy you don’t know, and when you said no he got his gun?”

  She nodded as heat flooded her. Would this officer think she was a terrible person because she was pregnant and single? What would he say about her? Did she even need to tell the cop she was pregnant?

  “What happened next?” the officer asked.

  She watched as the police led her father toward the car. That was when her dad started spewing stuff, his hateful words hitting her right in the gut.

  “You’re nothing but a whore,” he yelled. “A nasty-ass whore. You should be the one in jail. I should have killed you when you were sleeping. You nasty-ass whore.”

  The other cop shoved him into the back of the police car, cutting off his rant. The police officer closest to her grunted then met her gaze.

  “I take his words as a threat. I’ll make sure you have a protection order against him. How about we find a place that is more comfortable and talk about what happened?”

  She watched as the cop car drove away with her father inside. She turned back to the officer beside her.

  “What will happen to him?”

  The cop shrugged. “He’ll be held for at least twenty-four hours. There’s a good chance he’ll be in for a few days before he gets bail. Do you know if he has the money to pay?”

  “No clue.”

  “I’d expect him to be back on the street before the weekend.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That soon?”

  The cop winced then shrugged. “It sucks. Trust me, I know. I’ve seen too many bad men out on the streets after something like this. I want you to be aware. Don’t for a moment think you’re safe with men like that around you. You can’t trust them. That’s not official but based on what I’ve experienced. You need to keep yourself safe.”

  She nodded. Her father treated her like she was property, not a real human. That he even thought he could arrange a marriage was ridiculous. He was unhinged. For years she’d kept the peace, making sure to stay out of his way, keep quiet, be respectful, but this was the undoing. No question, she couldn’t live here any longer.

  “You probably want to gather your stuff and find another place to stay.”

  Pressure built in her head as she imagined how her life would change being homeless. The car she’d been using belonged to her dad, and he’d already taken that from her. She had nothing to her name. It would be another month after she graduated before she could take the state test, and then if she moved to Georgia, it would be weeks if not months before the Georgia license came in. She’d be stuck working as an assistant until then, and she had no money, no car, nothing.

  A sob escaped her lips. She cringed as fear and pain filled her.

  She stared at the ground, shaking her head as depression took over. It was too hard to live like this. Stability, that’s what she needed, but she had none.

  Pain hit her square in the chest. Striker wasn’t around. She wanted to talk to him, tell him everything that had happened, but he was out of touch, overseas somewhere.

  “Do you have somewhere else to go?” The cop was being kind, and she was wrapped up in her head, feeling sorry for herself and here he was trying to be nice. Granted, her father had just threatened to kill her. She guessed that was an okay excuse for losing her manners.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “There are a few shelters,” the cop said.

  “I have my equipment. I need it. I can’t leave it here.”

  “Equipment?”

  She nodded. “I’m graduating soon from cosmetology school. I’m so close to being finished. I take state board exams in a month.”

  He pulled out his phone and started typing. “There’s an inexpensive hotel not too far from here. It’s about sixty a night. I might be able to get the owner to lower the price. He does that for me when I get situations like this.”

  She reached out and touched the officer’s arm. “Wait, this happens often?”

  His lips pinched together as he screwed them up on one side, and his face scrunched up before he shrugged. “Yeah, it does. At least twice a month just for me. Maybe more.”

  “Jesus.” She blew out a breath as reality hit. This was more common than she thought. Why were people so mean? Then worry about Striker hit. Would he accept her being pregnant?

  “It’s rough out there. Usually, it’s a husband or a wife.”

  “That’s sad.”

  The cop glanced around, giving her a minute to wipe away the tears. Maybe it was just her emotions from the pregnancy, but she did
n’t think so. What her father had done was horrifying.

  He cleared his throat and shot her a smile. “How about you go start packing your supplies. Me and my partner will take you to the hotel this evening. You’ll be safe there.”

  Her hope faded as her mind filled with thoughts of her dad. How could he be so evil? She met the cop’s gaze and gave a quick nod. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, and we’ll help you. There are good people out there.”

  She blew out a breath, the weight of what had happened pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe. Sitting here wouldn’t get her out of her father’s house. It was time to get organized. It took her almost two hours to pack up her life. The cops left and said they would return in a few hours. She worried they wouldn’t come back to get her. She obsessed about Striker for almost an hour as she packed. Everything seemed too much. How could she expect strangers to be nicer than her father?

  Three hours after the cops had taken off, she received a text, stating the police officer and his partner would be around in about an hour. Her heartrate picked up, and she took one last look through the house. Since she’d been planning on leaving her father’s house anyway, half of her things had been packed. Now she moved the four small boxes and two suitcases to the front hall, waiting for the cops to come help her.

  Her father had attacked her just because she was pregnant. He was pure evil. Maybe she’d messed up having sex with Striker. She was pregnant, but she knew he would help her once he knew. He wasn’t the type of guy to abandon a pregnant girlfriend. At least she hoped he wasn’t. Maybe everything had been an act, but Striker had seemed real.

  No, doubt, Striker was the man for her. And even if she decided not to be with Striker, she still wanted the baby. There wasn’t anything wrong with keeping this baby. She would work hard to be a good mother, even if she didn’t have any help.