Page 40 of Emily

It had been a really, really good day even before she’d met her new little buddy, who still didn’t have a name. She just couldn’t think of a good one. None of them seemed to fit quite right, and he didn’t respond to anything she came up with. Not that he needed to, but it wasn’t like she loved any of the names.

“Darkness?” she said to him. He didn’t lift his head or even twitch. He was completely focused on cleaning his front paw. “Faithful?” She’d loved that cat in the Alanna of Trebond book series when she was a kid. His ear twitched, turning back toward her, then forward again. Okay, so that seemed like a maybe.

“I wonder why you chose me,” she mused, watching him.

It was nice having the company. The kitten had made himself at home immediately. Mr. Elliott had gone overboard on getting him things. She really was going to try to pay him back at least a little, even if she didn’t pay him back for all of it. He’d already given her so much… and it was kind of hard to feel like she’d really earned it. Not when it had been the most amazing night of her life.

If Mrs. Martine hadn’t been watching when he’d showed up with a car full of pet supplies, Emily would have been tempted to drag him into her trailer and beg him to do it to her all over again.

Please, Daddy.

A little shiver went up her spine.

Her cat seemed perfectly happy sitting and washing his paws. She felt a little weird about leaving him so she could go… pleasure herself. But she was probably going to need to get used to that. It wasn’t like he needed her attention all the time.

Getting to her feet, she glanced around the main space to make sure everything was in order. He had plenty of water, and there was a bit of food left in his bowl, so she wasn’t worried he was hungry—in fact, she might have fed him a little too much—and there was a little bed tucked in the corner in front of the standing lamp for him to sleep in. If he decided to get off the couch.

Right.

The kitten was as set as he was going to get for the night.

The newest present she’d gotten for herself—an e-reader so she could download and read filthy ebooks without having to store them on her shelf—was sitting right there on the counter. Yes, please. A whole world of Daddy Dom books had been opened up to her. Right now, she was tearing through Raisa Greywood’s Holiday Daddy Doms series and enjoying being able to read about sexy Daddies… and picturing Mr. Elliott for every single one.

So, she’d go lie in bed, enjoy her current read, then pull out her toy when she got to the filthy stuff. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but it was as close as she was going to get right now. Her imagination was feeling especially invigorated after getting to see him today and having him buy a bunch of things to spoil the kitten with.

There was just something so sexy about a man who cared about animals.

She’d just gotten into bed and pulled the covers up when she heard the knocking at her door.

It’s him!

No, it probably wasn’t, right?

It wasn’t too late, but late enough that she couldn’t imagine who would be at her door. Mrs. Martine always called out Emily’s name when it was her.

Maybe he’d forgotten to get the kitten something.

Maybe he’d decided he couldn’t stay away from her for one second longer.

Emily practically flew to the door, thankful that she finally had real pajamas that made her look cute. The kitten looked up as she passed but was otherwise clearly unbothered.

She pulled the door open, breathless, and froze in utter horror. It wasn’t Mr. Elliott at her door. The universe had gotten everything mixed up. It wasn’t her Daddy—it was her father.

“Dad?” It came out as a question, but she knew it was him, even though he looked a little different. His hair had grown out to his shoulders, as if he couldn’t be bothered to cut it, and was liberally streaked with grey. It was stringy and looked greasy, as though he hadn’t washed it in a while.

He was wearing a button-down shirt that had seen better days. There were small holes where the pocket was sewn on, and one of the buttons was missing. When he smiled up at her—a cruel, cold smile that didn’t reach his icy blue eyes—she could see how yellowed his teeth had become. Even more so than the undertone of his skin, which had deepened as well.

Even though she wasn’t happy to see him, her first thought was to wonder when the last time he’d been to a doctor. He looked sick.

“Hey, Ems. Couldn’t find the key. Thanks for letting me in.”

And with that, her dad pushed his way back into her life.

16

Her Dad’s Threat

Emily

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