Ugh. Sometimes I regret ever telling Sloane about the nature of my relationship with Mia. There was a time when she’d tried so hard to be what I needed, but the effort only left us both frustrated. Having my desires thrown in my face when I’m already feeling like an asshole is the absolute last thing I need.
“I’m not doing this with you, Sloane. I’ll be home when I can.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn and head for the door.
For my babygirl.
Mia
He’s coming.Daddy’s coming to rescue me.
No. Not your Daddy anymore, remember?
Closing my eyes, I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat. Ethan Hale hasn’t been my Daddy in well over a decade. Not since the night I walked away from him.
Away from us.
But none of that matters now. Regardless of what I call him, he’s on his way to rescue me from this nightmare I’ve found myself in.
Shoving the last of my clothes in a small duffel, I zip the bag closed and haul it up onto my shoulder. Heart pounding, I hurry down the stairs, peeking through the blinds. Sickness rises in my throat, but I ruthlessly swallow it down.
There’s no reason to think Carl might return home early. Friday nights are for the boys, as I’ve been told so many times before. But I can’t help but worry he’llknowsomehow that I’m planning to run.
And if he catches me before I can escape, I don’t know what he’ll do. Only that I’ll be wearing the bruises from whatever punishment he deems fitting for the next week.
The wait is agony, and every sound makes me jump clean out of my skin. Every car passing fills me with dread, my heart hammering so hard I can hardly hear myself think. More than once I find myself holding my breath whenever a red car passesin front of my window until I realize it isn’t Carl coming home early.
Then, at last, a giant black truck rumbles to a stop in front of the house. And the edges of my vision go gray with knee-weakening relief as I watch Ethan jog up the driveway.
Gripping my duffle so tightly my knuckles turn white, I hurry for the front door, wrenching it open before he can ring the bell.
God, he looks even better than I remember. Tall, so tall I have to tilt my head back to meet his dark gaze, and broad with it. Ten years’ worth of age has only made him hotter, more rugged and dangerous looking.
More…Daddy.
Fuck my life.
As I stand there in stunned silence, Ethan glances down at the bag in my hand and frowns. “Is that all you’re bringing?”
“Yes.”
His frown deepens and a familiar tingle runs up my spine. I remember that look well. It’s the look that says he’s not at all happy with my decisions. “Where is he?”
Fleetingly, I wonder if I should be annoyed that he automatically assumes my troubles are because of a man. But since he’s right, it feels petty to argue about it. “Gone.”
Ethan grunts. “Too bad. I’m in the mood for a fight.”
Because I don’t trust him to stick around just to get that fight he’s spoiling for, I step out onto the front porch, pulling the door shut behind me. “Thank you for coming. I… I didn’t know who else to call.”
He studies me with those unreadable eyes a moment longer before he nods once, slowly. “Let’s get you in the truck.”
Leaning down, he plucks the bag from my nerveless fingers and takes my hand in his. There’s nothing romantic or sexual about the gesture, simply a Daddy taking care of his babygirl.
And it breaks my heart.
Blinking back the tears burning at the backs of my eyes, I let him lead me to the truck. And just like he always did, he opens the door for me and lifts me up as if I weigh nothing to perch me on the seat. The familiarity of it is both comforting and agonizing, a reminder of what I threw away.
Of what I will never have again.
