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The Doctor's Fake Marriage: A Single Dad & Virgin Romance

Page 68

by Amy Brent


  “He was – ”

  I almost said he was there with me but stopped myself short. Because honestly, I had no idea where he was. He'd been there when I drifted off to sleep, but when they broke into the room, he was nowhere to be found. If he had been, I had no doubt they wouldn't have gotten away with me. I would have bet my life on the idea that they would both be dead and we'd be far away from that dumpy little motel.

  But he hadn't been there. He'd vanished. And I was tied up in the back of a car, being dragged back to my father.

  “I don't know where he is now,” I said sullenly. “He was staying with me, but it appears he left before you two assholes got there.”

  I had no idea where he was and I felt a stab of pain in my heart when I thought about waking up to that empty bed. But I argued with myself because Deacon wouldn't have left me – not like that. He loved me. I had no doubt about that. But where was he? Where had he gone?

  At first, I feared he'd been killed, his body somewhere in our room. But when the man asked me Deacon's whereabouts, it reassured me that he got away. That he was alive out there. And if I knew Deacon – and I believed I did – I knew that he loved me and it would only be a matter of time before he found me. He would turn the world upside down to find me.

  “What are you smiling about back there?” the driver asked. “Something funny, princess?”

  “Oh nothing,” I said, stretching out in the backseat. “Just imagining what my boyfriend will do to you once he finds you, that's all. It's not going to be pretty and personally, I can't wait to watch him take you both apart.”

  “Your boyfriend?” he asked. “Don't you mean, your fiance?”

  By fiance, he of course, meant Tony. Just hearing the old man's name though, made me laugh out loud.

  “No, I'm no longer Tony's. Truthfully, I was never Tony's,” I said. “No, I'm talking about your worst enemy, Deacon Murphy. He's going to come for me and he will burn you all to the ground to get me back.”

  “You and Deacon?” the passenger asked, turning to look at me for the first time. “You two are a thing now? Seriously?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Not that it's any of your business,” I said. “All you need to know is that once he finds you two, he's going to have some fun with the both of you. At least for a little while. After that, I'm going to run off with him again, so you might as well enjoy the last few hours you have left on this planet.”

  I couldn't see the man's face thanks to the mask he was wearing, but I didn't have to see it to know what was going through his mind. The way he looked over at the driver told me all I needed to know. He was worried. They feared Deacon and the hell he'd inflict upon them both for taking me – as they should.

  But what they didn't realize is that they should fear me as well, because there was no way – no way in hell – I was going to back to my father. And there was even less of a chance that I was going to marry Tony. Never in a million years.

  I'd been resigned to my fate for a long while. But that was before Deacon came into my life. And now that he had, I knew I had options. And having options meant I could be free. For the first time in my life, I had experienced freedom with Deacon and there was no way I was giving that up again. There was no way I was going to let them put the shackles back on me and the albatross that was Tony around my neck.

  Not when Deacon was out there. He would come for me and we would be together again. We would live free and build the life that we wanted to live. That wasn't even a question in my mind.

  Besides, we had a child to raise together. I rested my hand on my tummy, feeling blessed and ecstatic to be carrying his child. No one would keep me away from Deacon. Nobody was going to keep me from my baby's father.

  No one. Not even my own father. I would tear this world apart to make sure that didn't happen.

  ooo000ooo

  “Emelia!” my father said, rushing over to me and embracing me the moment we got back home. “I can't tell you how happy I am to see you standing here. I feared the worst had happened to my little girl.”

  “I'm fine, father,” I said, my words coming out a little harsher than intended.

  As much as I loved my father, I realized now that I was nothing but a pawn to him. A means to an end. A way to build the reputation and esteem of my family name. A real father wouldn't give their daughter away to somebody they didn't want to be with. A real father wouldn't force a marriage upon his daughter simply to secure some deals with their rivals. A real father wouldn't treat his daughter like a commodity. A bargaining chip.

  No, if he really cared for me, he'd want me to be happy. Even if being happy meant that I would be with Deacon. But I knew he'd never, ever let happen. He would see me dead before he ever saw me walk down the aisle with Deacon. I knew that with absolute certainty. I felt it down deep in my bones.

  My father sat down at his desk and motioned for me to sit down across from him. He looked at me for a long moment, smiling wide. I was growing uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny and found myself fidgeting with my hands, avoiding his gaze.

  “Tony and I have been worried sick about you,” he finally said.

  I cringed at the mention of Tony's name. The idea that he was out there looking for me, hoping to find me and bring me home just so I could marry him and give him children – well, that just disgusted me more now than it ever had before. I had no desire to ever see his face again. And even less desire to feel his hands on me for even a second.

  “Nico and Pauly said you appeared to be showing feelings for your captor, dear?” my father asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have to tell you, I find that more than a little concerning.”

  I knew I couldn't tell him everything. I couldn't shoot my mouth off the way I had with the two men who'd taken me from my hotel room. Not if I wanted him to allow me some freedom – at least freedom enough that I could reach out to Deacon. If I did anything to upset him or raise the red flags in his head, he was going to have somebody watching me every minute of the day. And if that happened, there was no way I was going to be able to get a call out to Deacon – not without being observed and overheard.

  Honestly, I should have kept my mouth shut back there in the car. I was kicking myself now for my lack of discretion. But I was so angry and frustrated that it had all just come out before I had a chance to check myself and think it through. I'd let my anger spill over and I'd said too much. I needed to keep my feelings secret for now. I needed to be smart about this. At least until I could get ahold of Deacon and get him a message. Let him know where I was.

  “Maybe so,” I said. “Honestly, Deacon Murphy took very good care of me. He was kind and even gentle with me. So, I have no complaints. He was a gentleman, father.”

  “He didn't harm you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “He made sure his men didn't lay a hand on me either. Like I said, he was kind and took care of me.”

  My dad looked surprised, but then a sinister smile crossed his face. “Probably because he knew I'd make him suffer mightily before I killed him if he hadn't treated you well. He's wiser than I gave him credit for.”

  I knew it went deeper than that though. I knew that Deacon wasn't like the other men who lived this life. But no matter what I said, no matter what defense I mounted, I knew my father wouldn't believe me. He hated Deacon and his family with everything in him and would never hear, let alone accept, that they hadn't mistreated me.

  “As it stands, I'm just going to kill him quickly,” he said. “Get it over with before he knows what hits him. Consider it a kindness. A thank you for not harming my daughter, of course.”

  “Please, father,” I said, choking on my words. “Can't we just let him go? There's no reason to hurt him. No reason to kill him. He's done nothing.”

  “Let him go?” my father scoffed. “He stole the heir to the Antonelli family fortune. Kidnapped her. I can't just let something like that go. No, I cannot let that pass. What sort of messa
ge would that send? I'm sorry, but kind or not, he needs to pay for his crimes, Emelia. And pay he will.”

  I knew that arguing with my father would be futile. It might even make thing worse. I'd need my freedom to warn Deacon. I'd need it so I could escape and join him again. Which is exactly what I planned to do. Because when I did get back to him, we were going to disappear completely. We were going to go somewhere neither his family nor mine would ever find us.

  We were going to go somewhere we could live our lives and raise our family. Together.

  DEACON

  I'd checked out of the hotel room shortly after Emelia had been taken and was driving back to Chicago as fast as I could. I wasn't sure where Emelia was being held – not with any certainty – but I had a fairly good idea. I figured that either her father or my Brothers had her. And when I found out who it was and where they were keeping her, I was going to get her back and them make them pay once I found them.

  I was going to hurt them like they'd never been hurt before. And I was going to enjoy every last second of hearing them scream.

  As I drove down the lonely roads of Illinois, my phone rang. I picked it up, not recognizing the number. Ordinarily, I wouldn't answer an unknown number, but something in my gut was telling me to answer.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Deacon?” It was Emelia. “It's me.”

  “Oh thank God,” I said. “I've been so goddamn worried about you. Where are you? Who has you? Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” she said, whispering. “It's my father, Deacon. He thinks he rescued me from you – ”

  She cut herself off and I heard what sounded her putting her hand over the phone. There were muffled voices in the background – she was talking to someone, but I couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying.

  “No, I'm fine. Really, I am,” she said to the other person. “I don't need anything, but thank you Esme. May I please have a little privacy? I'm on the phone. Yes, thank you.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “The maid. Where was I?”

  At least it sounded like she was safe and wasn't being held hostage. That was a good thing.

  “You're safe then, Emelia?” I asked.

  “I am,” she said. “At least for the moment. I don't know what's going to happen when my father brings Tony around.”

  For a moment, I feared that maybe this was goodbye. I thought that perhaps now that she was back at home, was safe and happy, that what we had between us was going to evaporate. That it had all been an illusion – or at least something that was temporary and easily cast aside. My heart ached at the mere thought of it, but if that was what she truly wanted – I would have no choice but to honor her wishes.

  “Please come get me, Deacon,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “I'm begging you. I can't be here anymore. I only want to be with you.”

  “Everything is okay, right?” I asked. “You're not being hurt or anything like that?”

  “Of course everything is okay. And no, I'm not being hurt. Everything is back to normal around here. The status quo has been restored,” I said. “My dad doesn't even suspect that there's anything between us. And he doesn't know about the baby. Not yet. And he won't until I'm far, far away from this house. I can't stay here. I won't. I miss you, Deacon.”

  “I miss you too, Emelia.”

  “So that means you'll come get me? And we can run away together like we talked about? We can go somewhere far away?” she laughed, but I could also tell she'd been crying.

  “Of course, love,” I said softly. “In fact, I'm already on the road.”

  “Good,” she said. “Because I love you, Deacon. And I want to be with you. Need to be with you.”

  “I love you too, Emmy.”

  There were more voices in the background. “I have to go, Deacon,” she said quickly. “But you have my number, so call me when you're close and I'll figure something out. But be careful. My father is looking for you. He said he's going to do terrible things to you, so please, please be careful.”

  She hung up and the phone went dead before I could say anything else. Hearing her begging me to come save her nearly brought tears to my eyes – and I wasn't the type of man who cried very easily. In fact, I couldn't recall the last time I cried. But this girl, she did something to me that I couldn't explain. She had a way of getting into my head and twisting my thoughts and emotions all around. I couldn't think straight when I was near her and my head always seemed to be in the clouds.

  Emelia was special. She was unlike anybody I'd ever known before and she really seemed to fill holes within me that I never knew existed before she fell into my life. And I knew I'd never be the same again because of her. I had to get her back.

  And there I was, heading back into town with both my Brothers and the Italian mafia on my ass, looking to kill me. If I were smart, I would have been running far away, not running toward the danger. If I were smart, I would have been putting as many miles between me and Chicago as humanly possible and would never set foot on those streets again.

  But my Emmy wanted me to come get her – and how could I say no to that?

  I couldn't. Which was why I was willingly walking back into the lion's den.

  Emelia

  “Who were you talking to on the phone earlier, Emelia?” my father asked me, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.

  “A friend,” I said, staring down at my plate, feeling anything but hungry in that moment.

  Esme had prepared a lavish feast to celebrate my return. She'd cooked all of my favorites, but I honestly didn't think I could keep anything down even if I'd wanted to. Tony was sitting next to me, holding my hand, and it took everything in me not to slap his hand away from mine. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want him anywhere near me. The simple fact that he was holding my hand sent waves of revulsion sweeping through me and I was fighting the urge to throw up then and there.

  “A friend?” my father pressed. “And which friend might that be, dear?”

  “Just one of my friends, dad. You wouldn't know him.”

  I flinched as soon as I said the word “him” because I knew that would only bring on more questions – from both my father and Tony. But it had just slipped out.

  “Him, huh?” Tony asked, taking a long swallow of wine and then laughing. “Sounds like I've got some competition, eh?”

  Tony – my fiance thanks to my father's meddling – was much older than me and repulsed me in ways I never knew I could be repulsed before. Maybe to some people, he'd be considered good looking. Perhaps even distinguished. But he smelled like stale cigarettes, had yellowed teeth from smoking too much and his face took on that pale, pinched look of someone who was already starting to age – and not very well.

  I saw nothing attractive about him, and I was convinced that anyone who said otherwise only saw one thing – his money. And there was no question, Tony had a lot of money.

  But to hell with money. I didn't want or need Tony's money. And I certainly didn't want to be tied down to that old man – much less sleep with him night after night – just so I could go shopping whenever I wanted to without having to worry about the price tags.

  And there was no way in hell I wanted to be saddled with that disgusting old man now that I knew what real love was like.

  “Not like that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He's just a friend of mine.”

  “You've remained pure for me, haven't you?” Tony asked, even with my father sitting right there. “Not been whoring yourself around, have you? Because you know that your purity is very important to me. Very important.”

  “Of course not,” I said, feeling my stomach churn. “I mean, I'm not whoring around. I am a good girl. Always have been, always will be. I was raised well, Tony.”

  Tony's hand moved off my hand and slid down my leg until it was resting on my thigh. He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze. I thought I might actually throw up as he leered at me. My body stiffened up and I no longer could stomach
eating my dinner as he stroked my thigh, moving higher and higher, sliding his hand ever closer to my most intimate parts – parts that he would never see. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

  “Please don't,” I muttered under my breath.

  I looked at Tony, and if he'd heard me, he gave no indication. My guess though, was that he already considered me his property and felt entitled to do whatever he wished, whenever he wished it. So he ignored my request. Instead, he continued to stroke my thigh through my pants and my stomach roiled. I couldn't speak, I just stared at my plate and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. That he wasn't groping me in front of my father.

  My father stared hard at me. I knew he knew exactly what Tony was doing right there at his dinner table – and yet, he was doing nothing about it. I had the irrational urge to grab my knife and slit both of their throats right then and there. But I took a deep breath and tried to will myself to relax. Doing something rash – knowing that Deacon was coming for me – wouldn't be smart. And I really needed to play things smart for the moment.

  “I don't think it's wise of you to be talking to other men, Emelia,” my father said. “Not this close to your wedding, and not without supervision. I just think it sends a very poor message. And we wouldn't want to do that, now would we?”

  “What am I, a prisoner?” I snapped. “I thought you rescued me from my kidnappers. I didn't realize I was going to have to have somebody babysit me twenty four hours a day, monitoring my calls or who I talk to.”

  As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have. Tony grabbed my inner thigh, pinching the skin roughly, making me yelp in pain. I looked at him with hatred burning in my eyes. It would be so easy to bury my knife in his soft, fleshy throat. He'd never see it coming and I could have it buried to the hilt before he even reacted. And it took everything in me to keep myself from doing just that.

  “No, you're not a prisoner,” my father said, staring at me with a serious, grim expression on his face. “But sometimes, a father knows what's best for his daughter. And right now, I'm just trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me from who?” I asked, staring at Tony.

 

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