Page 58 of Tower

“No. I’m just sure that you’d rather hide online than have to face your mother and tell her you are attending school in person.”

“One minute you say I won’t want to leave, and I’ll stay here, the next you assume you know what I’ll do when I go home?” Maybe he’d finally realized her sticking around would cause problems. For both of them, and it would be best for her to go home.

“Have you ever seen baby pictures of yourself?” The complete turnaround on topic caught her off guard. “Have you? Pictures of your mother pregnant with you, or with your father holding you as a baby?”

Her mother didn’t have pictures like that, or any, really of her childhood.

“She’s not the kind of person to keep photographs.” Azalea defended her mother again. Why did she always have to excuse her for the same things Azalea had always felt a bit off?

“Hmmm. There’s a huge painting of herself, and pictures of herself in her study, but not of you. That’s not strange to you?”

Where the hell was this line of questioning going?

“Do you know something you aren’t telling me?” she asked.

“I’m asking questions, that’s all. Questions I’m surprised you haven’t asked.”

Of course, she’d asked them herself. But nothing ever came of it. Her mother refused to discuss her father, and she would find a reason to become irritated if Azalea brought up any topic she didn’t want to analyze.

“I’m going upstairs.”

“Daniel’s waiting for you at the front door,” he said firmly.

“He can keep waiting,” she threw over her shoulder and stalked out of the room. His footsteps were behind her; she didn’t need to look to know it was him.

Well, he could be annoyed, fine. Because she was getting pissed, too. Everyone—everyone seemed to think they knew what was best for her. No one asked—everyone just pushed.

“Azalea.” Peter’s voice went soft.

She knew what that might mean, but she wasn’t in the mood. Not for his heavy-handed ways, not for his overbearing attitude, and certainly not for any damn punishment.

“Do not walk away from me.”

“Why? Will you lock me away?” she asked but didn’t turn around. She shoved through the door into the main house and stomped through the mudroom toward the living room.

Daniel stood with a smile by the front door. A smile that faded as he caught a glimpse of Peter behind her.

“Uh, Azalea, we going?” he asked with a jerk of his thumb toward the door.

“No.”

“Yes.” Peter’s booming voice overpowered her own.

Azalea grabbed hold of the banister, ready to slingshot around it and run up the stairs, but Peter’s pawlike hand landed on her shoulder, stilling her.

Before she could spin around to yell in his face, he had her pressed against the well-polished, intricately carved banister and applied that damn hand of his to her ass.

He didn’t even speak while he spanked her! He effortlessly continued to pummel her ass. Right in front of Daniel.

“Peter!” she cried out, trying to block him, but he merely grabbed her hand and pinned it to her back.

“You don’t want to face the truth about your mother or your past, that’s fine, but you don’t raise your voice to me, and you don’t walk away from me, and you don’t ever tell me no!”

Tears built and fell, but she would not crack. She would not let him think she was going along with his Neanderthal ways.

The slaps finally ceased, and all she could hear was his heavy breathing coupling with her own. He helped her to straighten up, letting go of her hand. She took a step back, wiping her hair from her face then running her hands over her ass. At least he hadn’t hiked up her damn skirt.

Daniel wasn’t there any longer. It was just the two of them, and they stood glaring at each other. Locked once more in a battle of wills.

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