Page 72 of Four Times Taken

Eric knew violence triggered me. The other men didn't understand how much, even if they were just trying to protect me. Everything moved in slow motion, when in reality, I didn't doubt that it was all happening in seconds as I forced my mouth to work.

"Stop! It's my father!" I yelled, just in time. Father wasn't exactly the word I'd use, but it was the word that left my mouth. "Terri Thornbread," I corrected myself.

The men froze and moved toward their clothes as Terri smirked and slouched himself against my doorframe.

"Why the hell are you still standing there?!" I yelled at him, growing disgusted beneath my sheet.

Eric grunted as one of the guys threw him his boxers to cover himself. The recognition blazed in his eyes. Contempt curled his lips.

"What the fuck are you even doing here?" I grabbed the sheet tighter around me like a safety blanket.

"Lily, damn, is that you? Guess those government benefits ain't hitting the way they used to, and you don't have me to mooch off of no more. I knew it'd be a matter of time before you started whoring yourself out. Ain't worth a damn," he said.

The guys froze, turning to look at him, an expression of their own disgust painted across their faces. Fists folded, they huffed. I could see their veins protruding, their skin turning red.

"Let us. Just this once, Lily. Please," Eric begged for my permission to obliterate him. I was tempted to give it to him.

"Get the fuck out of my room!" I yelled at the intruder.

He didn't move. Instead, Terri let his eyes travel over my body in a long, slow glance that crawled across my skin like a slimy snake. "You know, I don't miss that mouth. But I'm glad to see you're putting it to good use." He tilted his head and cupped his crotch. "I've never gone there, myself. Never thought much of it."

My mouth dropped open. He was disgusting; of course I knew that, but I couldn't believe my ears.

"You look too much like me. You're an ugly bitch," he continued. The guys turned to me, their eyes wide, their mouths hanging open as well. A low, collective growl emanated from them. My father didn't shut up. "But if I squint my eyes, I guess there's a bit of you that looks like your mother before she done went ahead and fucked herself up. Stupid bitch. How much you charging?"

The men launched toward him, the only thing stopping them was their respect for my wishes. "Lily, just say the words, baby. Please. Let us teach him a lesson," Eric grunted.

I ignored him.

"What the fuck do you want? Why are you here?" I repeated my question through the sting of my unshed tears and bitter bile on my tongue. My head was a mess, spinning on my body. "Get the fuck out!" I screamed, my voice wobbling.

"You heard her," Ryan spoke up.

"And who the fuck are you to tell me what I can or can't do in my own damn house?" My father lashed back at him.

"This ain't your house. Hasn't been yours for a long fucking time. Get the fuck out!" I shouted, helplessly.

He just laughed and turned out of my doorway. "No can do. See, my missus just kicked me out, so I'm here to stay."

"Good for her," Matt grumbled.

"Probably kicked her into next Wednesday," Eric muttered.

"What the fuck did you just say?" My sperm donor spun around, evil burning through his retinas.

"You heard me." Matt stepped to him. Eric jumped out of the bed.

"Fuck. Guys. Please!" I shouted at them. They turned to look at me, obviously pissed at me, yet holding themselves back.

Fuck, I loved Eric for his self-control. It's so damn hot. I thought I might be falling in love with all of them, especially in a room filled with testosterone and these four men exercising respect for me when my father, the man whose DNA runs through my veins, treated me like I'm nothing. The comparison... it's bar none, if that's the term. On one hand, men like my father used to be the only definition of a man I had, but these four men have proven to me what the true definition of a man is. My father... he's nothing, except a problem. A problem I have to get rid of.

When he saw that no one was going to fight him, he had the good sense to walk away, however, not without throwing over his shoulder, "Why don't you fix your old dad something to eat?"

My blood boiled at his blatant disrespect for women, his perception that we exist for servitude to a rat like him, his lack of warmth and love when I knew now that his gender is capable of it. He's just choosing to be a fucking dipshit. But his words from earlier finally sank in, hitting me like a brick to the head, and I jumped from the bed, almost tripping over the sheet covering my body. Throwing on a robe, I chased after him, the idea of sharing another second with him, appalling.

"What the fuck do you mean you're staying?!" I gasped, heart in my throat. The pores on my skin ballooned like mini puffer fish. This couldn't be real. There's no fucking way he's moving back in. I'd rather die than live with him again.

"Exactly what I said. And hey, if you're worried about your business, don't be. I ain't got a problem. As long as I get a cut, you're free to do whatever you want here," he added.

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