“Better take this,” he murmured when he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. His thumb swiped across, then he winked at her as he lifted it to his ear. “Braun, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. You understand the situation?”
Stealthily, Alicia wiggled closer to hear her future brother-in-law’s response. Maybe not so stealthily, she mused, when Atticus’s eyebrow winged up. She should probably work on that.
“Hang on, there’s a little pair of ears burning.” Chuckling, he held the phone between them and pressed a button. “Say hi to Braun, princess.”
“Um, hi?” she said quietly.
“Princess?” The voice that rumbled through the speakers didn’t sound impressed. “Atticus, I love you like a brother, but if you so much as think about—”
Atticus cleared his throat meaningfully. “Before you threaten to cut my dick off, Braun, you should know Lisha is aware of what I am. It would seem her parents had a sideline business, blackmailing kinksters for being kinky—I haven’t corrupted her, don’t worry.”
“Good. I’m trusting you with her, Att. Not that I don’t trust you and your judgement, Alicia, but Atticus is a man with a reputation for being exactly what a woman needs.”
Exactly what a woman needs, huh? A little put-out by Braun’s assumption—however right he might be—she glowered at the phone. As her lips twitched with an attempt to keep her mischief contained, she batted her eyelashes at Atticus. “Daddy, what is he saying? Does that mean I’m not the only little girl you’ve dressed up in these cute little coveralls with the butt flap?”
The mountain of man slapped his palm against his forehead and growled under his breath. But he didn’t scare her this time, even as furious silence radiated over the open speakers. Shaking his head in exasperation, he said gruffly, “The brat is yanking your chain, Braun. Calm down—I can see that vein in your forehead pulsing from here.”
“She better be joking.”
“Since when do I own coveralls with a butt flap?” Hot green eyes gave her a see what you’ve done look that had a giggle rising in her throat. “Let it go. The troublemaker is fine, she hasn’t been taken advantage of in any way, shape, or form.” He rubbed his hand over his face, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Although her butt’s going to be warm if she keeps messing with Doms.”
“Warm butt? Like a spanking?” she whispered.
Atticus hit the mute button. “Exactly like a spanking. Apologize to Braun for winding him up, princess. He’s under a lot of stress at the moment; we don’t need him to have a coronary because he thinks I’m doing bad things to you.”
Okay, he had a point. She didn’t want a moment of fun to turn into a tragedy, and given her track record of tragedies…well, an apology was better than a eulogy. “Okay.”
“That’s my good girl.” He gave her upper thigh a gentle pat of approval, then unmuted the phone. “Go ahead, Alicia.”
Pouting, she sighed. “Um, Braun? I’m sorry. I’m not really wearing assless coveralls. Atticus had to throw all my clothes out because they got ruined at the…they got ruined,” she explained. “He’s been nothing but kind to me. So there’s no need to get mad at him, okay? Please don’t be mad at him.”
Where the hell had that lilt of desperation come from? She wasn’t apologizing, she was pleading with her sister’s almost-husband not to get angry with the man she had a crush on.
The man in question shot her a concerned look.
“Alicia, I’m not mad at him. Look, this is weird for me. Bodie loves you, and I get protective over what she loves. I know Atticus is the right man to take care of you until you’re ready to head out on your own, and I get that you’re a young woman with…needs.” Braun’s voice was somewhat strained. “If anything develops between the two of you, it’s none of my business. Just keep in mind, Att, that if you hurt her, I’m not the one who’ll string you up on the stage at Avalon for everyone to flog.”
Atticus snorted. “Uh-huh. Bodie and which army?”
“My fiancée has connections. I’m sure she’ll find several accomplices to aid her, with Connie in the lead.” Braun laughed, and he sounded lighter. “Bodie wants to see you, Alicia, but per doctor’s orders, she isn’t going anywhere in a hurry. Don’t think she’s ignoring you or doesn’t want you in our lives—we do, very much.”
Her lips trembled, but she firmed them. She wasn’t going to shed more tears, not over this. Bodie was a sore spot for her. A big, throbbing raw wound hidden deep in her chest, and she refused to show it to anyone.
“Atticus emailed me about your Direct Express card. The first thing you should know is, it’s safe. It was found in Abraham’s wallet when they took his personal effects at the morgue. Both his and Diane’s things were handed over to Bodie once the investigation was over, and we gave it to Connie as soon as you went to stay with her.” A small pause. “Connie refused to use it, pet. She paid for everything while you were with her, so there’s some money on the card. She’ll give it to Atticus when she sees him, okay?”
The kernel of fear in her belly dissipated. One thing she hated was dealing with the welfare office, and losing that card would have caused issues. Breathlessly, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble, pet. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it earlier. Atticus, can you handle the paperwork for Alicia’s change of address? Connie and I did it the first time, so she can help you if you need it.”
“Yeah, no problem. It’s on my list of things to do on Monday.”
“Excellent. Okay, is there anything else you need me for? I should go check on the pregnant woman in my bed—she’s getting creative with her escape attempts. God help me if she gets into the refrigerator one more time. Her craving for peanut butter-covered pickles is slightly disgusting.”
Atticus grimaced, then grinned at Alicia. “And who exactly got her in a predicament where she craves such a gastronomic delight, Braun? Because I’m pretty sure that sweet sub of yours isn’t capable of reproducing asexually.”
“Laugh it up, big guy. Wait until some poor woman is lugging around the fruit of your loins in her belly.”
Alicia’s heart sank slowly toward her toes. Of course, there would be someone in his future he could have kids with, if that was on the cards. Someone stunningly pretty with brains and wit, who could go places with him without having to check if there was disabled access beforehand.
God, she could see the bitch now—tall and willowy, with full breasts and an hourglass figure. Flawless skin, golden hair, big brown eyes. Her manicured hand pressing against the fiercely rounded swell where Atticus’ son slept.
This was why she didn’t get attached to people or things, Alicia reminded herself. After she’d killed her parents—no huge loss there, granted, aside from a piece of her soul—she’d been desperate for human companionship, and found it in Connie. But as hard as Connie tried, Alicia hadn’t been able to let herself…relax. Too mired in what she’d done, too traumatized to acclimate into normality, she’d lost herself in the dark fog of depression…
And she’d been cut loose.
It wasn’t Connie’s fault. God knew the woman had given her all, to the point of making herself sick. More than once, Alicia swore she’d felt her friend’s hand brush hers as they passed each other in the darkness. That was why she’d agreed to go to the rehab facility.
But losing Atticus to the imaginary bitch in her head? That hurt so bad, her chest felt like a bomb had detonated inside it.
Goddamn it, why hadn’t she snipped off that first bloom of crushius hopelessnius before it grew to this size? Poured gasoline onto the roots and let the fanciful dreams die before they dug down deep into her heart and made it impossible to tear them out?
“Hey. Zoning out on me there, princess?”
Heat seared her cheek as a wide palm touched it, and she flinched, expecting a blow. Even though she recovered quickly, offering Atticus a nervous smile that felt wrong, she was already pinned by the mo
st intuitive stare she’d ever come across. It felt as though he was beyond her eyes, inside her brain, paging through her private thoughts as though he held a book in his hands.
“Such an expressive face. I hate seeing you sad, Lisha.”
“I’m not sad. Just…” Defeated by an imaginary rival. “Just tired, I guess.”
“Hmm. Some excuses work for some people,” he told her with an edge of censure. “I’m guessing the I’m tired line got you out of several tough conversations with Connie, because regardless that she’s a Domme, she’s also got a very soft and very compassionate heart. Unfortunately for you, while I’m a nice, compassionate guy, bullshit evasions don’t sway me.”
She gasped mockingly. “You used a bad word!”
“My profanity vocabulary is vast,” Atticus said solemnly. “Daddies can use all the bad words they like, Alicia, but if they hear those words coming out of their little girls’ mouth…well, the consequences are numerous.”
“Like a spanking?” she asked, trying for a nonchalant tone.
By the way his mouth twitched, she’d failed. “Just itching for one, aren’t you? There are other ways of punishing a little girl creatively, without lifting a hand to her. She might have her TV privileges taken away, her coloring books confiscated, or spend some time with her nose in the corner. If she uses a really naughty swear word, she could even have her mouth washed out with soap.”
Alicia’s ears pricked up at the mention of coloring books. They sounded fun, unlike eating soap. Some of the heartache from her broken fantasy trickled away, and when she smiled this time, it felt lighter. “So you’re an old-fashioned Daddy?”
He chucked her under the chin. “Firm but fair, princess. Maybe some of my methods are old-fashioned, but if they are, it’s because they’re classics and they’re effective.” His head tilted. “Now, before I go make lunch, are you gonna tell me what put that grieving look on this pretty face?”
Grieving. Is that what the pain inside her was doing? Mourning the loss of something that would never be? She lifted her shoulder as though it didn’t matter. “I was dreaming of something I can’t have. I do it a lot, so don’t worry about it. Dead from the waist down isn’t an ingredient in the magical recipe for happily ever after.”
It was mesmerizing to watch his expression change. Fury darkened his features like storm clouds, erasing the attentive concern, and Alicia swore on everything holy that lightning flashed in his eyes. His lip curled, exposing his teeth, and she thought it was probably stupid to yank the dangerous wolf’s tail.
“Happily ever after isn’t dependent on your physical attributes, Alicia. In this world, you make your own happiness, regardless of your legs.” He reached forward and dug his fingertips into the flesh around her knee, eliciting a shocked whimper when she felt the bite. “Dead from the waist down is far from what you are. We’re going to find out what damage was done to your spine, and if the prognosis you were given as a child was utter fucking bullshit.” Those angry green eyes bored into hers, merciless. “The next time you say something like that, Braun and morals be damned, I will drag you over my knee and spank your ass until you get it into your damn head that self-negativity is not tolerated here. Are we on the same goddamn page, Alicia?”
Stunned, she blinked at him. Her mouth opened and closed slowly, but words escaped her. Never in her life had anyone defended her so vehemently against herself, and she felt a glimmer of guilt and shame for putting Atticus in a position where he had to do just that.
His hand moved to her face, pinching her chin and holding her in place. The emotion in his eyes wasn’t fading, no sir. If anything, it seemed as though they were glowing. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Are we on the same fucking page, Alicia?”
Her instinctive need to please kicked in. Nodding, she whispered, “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
Atticus didn’t release her chin, nor did his gaze leave hers, but the tautness around his eyes and mouth eased. With a quiet grunt of approval, he responded in a gentler tone. “Apology accepted, princess. Take a nap while I make a phone call and find something for lunch.”
When he stroked his thumb over her chin before releasing it and rising from the chair, Alicia realized he hadn’t corrected her use of the honorific. Somehow, that one little concession he gave her soothed the sting of being chastised.
As he strode away, she blew out a breath and sank back into the cushions, too tired to figure out the complexities of the bombshells he’d dropped on her this morning. Maybe a nap was a good idea—it wasn’t like she had anywhere to be or anything to do. When she woke, she could examine their conversation more closely, and figure out what was in her future.
Without changing the channel on the biggest screen she’d ever seen, she snuggled in to follow Atticus’ orders with his scent still lingering in the air, and the pressure of his fingers still tangible on her face.
*
Heaven help him, he was in trouble.
Atticus replayed the last few hours over in his head as he headed for the kitchen, pinpointing where he could have saved himself more than once. Right now, where he was standing, he had no doubts he would come across as a perverted old fucker—grooming his girl of choice into a lifestyle decision she knew nothing about, manipulating her into being something she wasn’t—to anyone who didn’t know him.
The problem was, Alicia wasn’t a girl anymore. Not in the way the Masters, him included, continued to see her. They were all guilty of setting her in a bubble of innocence, intent on keeping her safe and protected from the world, but the truth was…they were too late.
Abraham had raped his daughter, his own fucking flesh and blood, as punishment for saying no to something she hadn’t wanted. The old bastard better be rotting in the sixth level of hell for that alone, for taking something precious and letting Alicia believe incestuous rape was a noble act—one that saved her sister from the same fate.
Christ, he’d like to smash that asshole’s face into a concrete floor until it was nothing but bone shards and blood.
Alicia wasn’t a girl anymore, Atticus reminded himself. She was a strong, vibrant young woman with issues. That didn’t mean she couldn’t make her own choices in life or forge her own goddamn path away from the one everyone steered her towards.
Did she have little qualities? Absolutely. They were like tiny neon lights gleaming in the dark, growing brighter with every good girl and princess. She lapped up the attention like a starving kitten given cream, visibly craving more. She really did have an incredibly expressive face, and she was still innocent enough to lack the skills to hide it.
Like when he mentioned coloring books. The brightening of her eyes and the childlike delight in them was enough for Atticus to add a few books and crayons to his mental list. Along with a few other things he thought she’d appreciate.
If Alicia wanted to see what being a little was like, he had no problem guiding her. Showing her what it meant to relinquish adulthood for a while and let Daddy handle the grownup shit. Hell, who was he kidding? In some ways, she’d spent her life surrendering herself to the whims of others.
He just needed to make damn sure she put her needs first.
If she didn’t, he would.
Tugging his phone from his pocket, he noted the low battery. Aside from Braun’s call, the contraption had been ominously quiet. It took only one quick call to the office to alleviate his concerns—his world-class team had decided to give him another day off, this time not contacting him at all unless it was an absolute, catastrophic disaster.
Of course, if they let anything get to that point of chaos, he’d fire them all.
Atticus’ second call was to Julia. A lovely woman and a former fuckbuddy when they both had the time—her term, not his. She liked to be topped lightly, and he…well, the sex had been good, hard, and satisfied the itch that constantly plagued him.
Friends were all they would ever be, and it was his friend he needed now.
“Atticus,
you must be impatient to call me on a weekend.” The sultry voice he knew well purred down the line. He’d heard it at all different ranges and pitches, but it was sweetest at the peak of her orgasm. “I’m assuming this has to do with those fascinating medical reports you sent me?”
“Blunt and to the point as always, Jules. Never a hello or how you doing.” Atticus chuckled, because it was true. Time was always of the essence for Julia, and she didn’t bother with many pleasantries. “To answer your question, yes. Have you had an opportunity to look at them?”
Propping his phone between his shoulder and his ear, he started rifling through the cupboards to find Alicia something enticing to eat. The calories versus healthy eating war was real, he discovered as he tried to think of what food covered both.
“My appointment schedule is packed from eight a.m. to six p.m. every damn day, Att. Between ward rounds, surgeries, paperwork, and the rest of the crap I wade through on any given day, a non-emergent file referring to a patient I’ve never met doesn’t fall into my priorities.”
“Mmm-hmm. Fascinating medical files, Jules. Does that ring a bell with you?”
She laughed huskily. “Maybe I took a sneaky peek last night. I’m going to let you in on a secret, Atticus. I trust it will remain one.” He could almost hear her eyebrows scrape their way up her high forehead to her hairline. “Not that it would make much difference to Fielding’s reputation, but I value mine, and I can’t risk it being tarnished by that worm.”
His spine straightened. Answers. He scented the arrival of imminent truth and smiled coldly. “Anything you tell me is in confidence. I take it Fielding isn’t one of your work buddies?”
Julia scoffed. “That asshole is a sorry excuse for a doctor. I don’t class him as either a colleague or a friend, and if I had the evidence to support what I know about him, I’d get his medical license revoked in a heartbeat. He has no right to speak with patients, let alone pick up a goddamn scalpel and cut them open. The man is a gambler, has a casual drug habit, and is a grade-A loser in every sense of the definition. How he hasn’t been subjected to a negligence lawsuit yet, I don’t know.”
Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4 Page 10
