Page 76 of Daddy's Heart

Samantha flickered her attention to Anderson.

“You’re working with Randall? Why? Why would you do that?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Business isn’t great, needed some new clientele. It’s not personal, Sam. We need your statement, then you’re done.”

“I’m not doing it.” She shook her head. “I’m not lying for you. I’ll stay out of the appeals process, I won’t give new testimony, but I am not taking back my statement. I will not lie.” She folded her arms over her chest.

Anderson’s shoulders dropped.

“It’s a statement, Sam. A piece of paper I’ll file on your behalf.”

“No, she needs to do more than just sign a paper.” Randall touched her face. “You said it would be best if she’s at the appeal. If she’s in court to give her statement.”

“Well, yes, but we don’t need to bring her back. We discussed that.” Anderson’s brow wrinkled.

Sam jerked her head to the side, away from Randall’s clammy touch.

“I’m sure as fuck not going anywhere with you!”

Randall’s hand crashed across her cheek, sending stars bursting into her vision and a pain shooting through her skull.

“Fuck. Randall!” Anderson called.

“You don’t talk to me like that. Not after what you did.” Randall was on her, his finger stuffed in her face, his spittle smacking into her cheek.

“Sam, sign the statement,” Anderson pleaded. “I have it all drawn up, you just need to sign it.”

She brought her gaze to meet Randall’s. Large black eyes glared back at her, his lips thinned out in anger, and his jaw pushed out.

“This guy? You call him Daddy?” Randall asked with heat.

She took a rugged breath. Pain thumped in her jaw from his hit, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble beneath his bullying.

“Do you?” He laughed. “I remember when you called me Daddy.” He ran a finger along her jaw. “Wanted to be my good little girl, didn’t you?”

It hadn’t been the same with him. She never tried to be his good little girl. He wasn’t a Daddy. The word had slipped during sex one night. He had no idea what it meant, and she didn’t explain. Randall was never going to be anything long-term. So why the hell couldn’t she get him out of her life?

“I want you to go,” she said, pointing to the door. “Get out.”

“Sam—”

“What you want doesn’t mean shit to me.” Randall’s expression went dark again. “Let me explain how this is going to work. You’re going to sign the fucking statement, and if Anderson here calls you down to Indiana to come to court, you’re going to get your ass down there. If I have to come up here to get you, you’re going to be real fucking sorry. And so is your brother.”

He stepped toward her, walking her back until she hit the wall.

“Jerri, she’s working for you too?”

Randall laughed. “Working for me?” He laughed. “That woman has been on my dick for months.”

“You’ve been in jail,” Sam whispered.

“Like that’s gonna stop anything.” He turned to Anderson. “Get the papers out. She’s going to sign them, or she’s coming with us. Her choice.” His eyes swung back to her. “And she’s not going to want to come with us if she has any sense in her head.”

Sam reached behind her, fumbling for her phone.

Gone.

She had dropped it on the couch. It was in the living room.

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