Page 100 of Bad Kind of Love

“Where are you taking me?” I whisper as my heart pounds wildly against my breastbone.

“To the boss.” He grunts without acknowledging me.

What the fuck did I get myself into?

As I’m led down a narrow hallway of flickering lights and scattered trash everywhere, he pounds his fist onto a door and it soon opens.

“Why, who have we here?” A blonde man with a skull tattooed on his face observes me with a playful gleam in his eye.

Recoiling back from his heavy stare, I’m pushed hard into the room until I fall onto my knees in a loud thud.

“O’Connor’s daughter.” Scar face responds as he enters the room.

With my head down, I notice my body is shaking uncontrollably. My fingers vibrate against the cold cement, and the feeling of prying eyes sends shivers down my spine.

“Becca?” I hear the small whisper of my dad from the opposite side of the room.

Instantly lifting my head, I find him sitting in a folding chair in front of the desk. He looks beyond mortified as I lay on my knees and soon rises in his chair.

“She has nothing to do with this.” He shouts to the men behind me, but my eyes lock onto someone else.

The person who is perched behind the desk with a smug look across his face. What looks like it used to be black hair was now greying at the sides while the top flopped over his forehead, giving him a more youthful appearance than his actual age.

“From what you tell me, she has everything to do with this.” His eyes never waver from mine, observing me head to toe with familiar dark eyes.

“Stand up.” The blonde grasps under my shoulder and pulls me up.

“Let her go.” My dad shouts but this time it’s directed at the man at the desk. “I came here alone. I didn’t expect her to follow me.”

His sad eyes connect with mine, but I’m jerked hard and brought closer to the desk.

“Ky, seat her in the chair.” The older man nods and pulls me toward the seat and I plop down. Ky removes his grip, but stands so closely behind me that I can feel his body against the back of the chair.

“Do you know who I am, Becca?” He leans over the desk a tad with a slight smirk across his face.

“No.” I respond shaking my head.

His chin lifts and his eyes meet my dad’s before focusing back on me.

“Your father’s never mentioned me before?” He asks, astonished.

Confused, I shake my head again.

Leaning back in his chair, he brings his hands up to rest behind his head, but his intense stare still burns through me.

“I can see why he’s so fascinated with you.” He tilts his head to the side, while my gaze flickers over to my dad’s.

“Who?” My brows knit together.

“My son.”

All the air in the room welters out and I’m left breathing in the moldy walls and the man who’s pressed up behind me.

“Your teacher or, should I say, lover?” He raises a dark brow and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “Your father filled me in on everything.”

My head whips in my dad’s direction and all the color seemed to have drained from his face.

Why the hell would my dad need to talk to him?

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