Page 37 of Saul

“I wanted aDaddy, that’s totally different.”

“What you mean like that old man?” Steven sneered. “That why he had you in a diaper? Trying it out for him?”

It was completely pointless arguing. “Steven, I mean it. I need you to leave.”

But he took a couple of steps toward me closing the remaining distance and I had nowhere to go. “I could be your Daddy,” he said silkily. Dread seemed to leaden my feet, and I put my hands up in a vain attempt to stop him, but he grasped my towel and yanked me forward, fastening his lips to mine. And for once in my damned life, I didn’t freeze. In fact, I fought. I fought him and to stop the towel slipping down but he yanked me so close I couldn’t move. He mauled my lips with his and I wanted to gag at the taste of stale alcohol, and to my horror, I felt his hand slide down between us. In utter desperation, the only part of me that could move was my mouth and I bit down on his lip, really hard.

Steven jerked back and howled with his hands to his bloody mouth. I had a second to take one step, but he roared, and he backhanded me so hard it sent me crashing into the small table. It split under my weight and for a second, I couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in my ears and the fire in my face. Steven reached for me, his grip cruel on my arm, but I was so shocked I couldn’t fight back.

And just as I registered another crash, Steven’s hands were gone and there seemed to be a lot of noise. Yelling. I curled up, or tried to, and flinched as another pair of hands touched me. “Baby.”

I recognized Daddy’s voice immediately and reached for him, tears of relief already streaming down my face. I was lifted into his arms and carried into the bedroom. I felt Daddy wrap my blanket around me, tuck Tiny into my arms, and sit on the chair in the corner, holding me super tight. He didn’t speak much for a long time, except to rock me and press kisses on my head, and mumble I was okay, and he wasn’t letting me go.

I heard the door open but didn’t dare open my eyes for a long time. “Did you end the fucker?” It was Daddy’s voice, and it was so low and full of anger, I looked up to see who he was talking to. It was Christopher, and he hunkered down in front of me. “He got away from TJ because there was a woman pushing a stroller. The idiot’s in his car, so we called 911, and according to TJ they’ve already stopped him.”

“I think he was drunk,” I whispered. Daddy muttered something else I couldn’t quite hear but didn’t care to, and I clung on. I knew Christopher had left because the door closed.

“Let me see where you got hurt? I think we need to get it checked out.”

“No,” I croaked out, the thought of going to some ER terrifying me. “He backhanded me, and I fell, but it’s all my shoulder. I didn’t hit my head.” I paused while Daddy ran a hand through my hair, checking for bumps. “I just want to go. Please,” I added. I felt like my space had been violated.

The door opened a second time and Christopher put my first-aid kit down in front of us. “We’ve just about finished out there. We’re gonna need to move the furniture in here soon.”

I clutched Tiny to my chest. I couldn’t speak. After a moment, I realized Daddy was pulling some sweats over my feet. He passed Chris the door key. “I’m taking him to my place. He doesn’t need to see this.”

“Good idea,” Chris said. “Leave everything to us.”

Daddy examined my shoulder and put ointment on the grazes and the good stuff I had for bruising on my cheek, then stood and reached for me, pulling the sweats up and adding a tee before picking me up again. He didn’t look like he intended on putting me down, and I wasn’t complaining.

I knew I should thank Christopher. The two guys that were with him smiled kindly but didn’t attempt to come anywherenear, and all I did was burrow my head into Daddy’s neck and pretend that the last hour hadn’t happened.

Daddy told me my only job was keeping Tiny safe, and he tucked me into his truck and fastened my seatbelt.

It still took five hours, and I think I dozed for most of it. I knew Daddy made a couple of calls and I managed to drink both bottles of water Daddy pushed on me but refused food. After three hours, I had to ask to stop to use a restroom and even then, Daddy didn’t let me go on my own. I dreaded to think what time the other guys had left Denver this morning, but eventually we turned into a cute neighborhood and stopped outside of what had to be my dream house. “Here?” I whispered.

Daddy nodded, looking pleased I’d spoken. “I won’t lie. It needs work, but the basics—plumbing, electric, and air— are done.”

I gazed at the one-story home. It had a tiny front lawn and a porch that just begged for rockers, and then a huge wooden and glass door. Chris’s car rolled in behind us and I assumed they’d caught up as we’d stopped. The rental truck had just gone to whatever storage unit Ricky had arranged. Chris had my personal things.

Daddy turned off the engine and the front door opened. A whirlwind I recognized met me as I opened the truck door. I think Ricky would have climbed inside if Christopher hadn’t grabbed him to give Daddy the chance to run around and lift me down himself.

Ricky flung his arms around me, and I couldn’t help the wince. “Gentle,” Daddy murmured, and Ricky met my gaze. Shame flooded me and I looked down.

“This wasn’t your fault,” Ricky said, because we’d been friends for a very long time, and he knew where my thoughts would go. It was always my fault. And my mom’s voice seemed very loud in my head.

I nodded, but I knew he was lying.

I caught the panicked look Ricky sent Christopher, but I didn’t have the energy to soothe him. Christopher lifted two suitcases from his car and set them just inside the door. He went back for a large box. “Clothes, shoes and bathroom stuff.”

“Saul asked me to get what I could ready and then you can change whatever you want later,” Ricky rushed out; he seemed to want to dash toward me again, but he didn’t. I pasted on a smile and let Daddy walk me up the steps. I knew Ricky left with Christopher, promising to see me tomorrow, but I didn’t respond, just let Daddy walk me inside.

It was perfect from what I could see, even though I didn’t have the energy to explore. I didn’t care that the kitchen was fifty years old, as Daddy told me apologetically. I adored the separate living room and the cute study slash dining area next to it, and the separate tiny library with wall-to-ceiling bookshelves. “I never met her,” Saul admitted sadly. “I only found out about her a few months after Dad died and her lawyers tracked me down. I would have given anything to have met her, and I have no idea why Dad didn’t tell me, or why they must have fought.”

I clutched Daddy and then suddenly I was crying, and I didn’t want to think about why. The house was perfect and at any other time I’d be rushing around in excitement, but I just felt numb.

I didn’t even know why Daddy was with me. Why was I here? Daddy took me to the bedroom and somehow, I was in my jammies before I blinked, and tucked under my blanket with Daddy’s arms around me. I was still crying, and right at that moment I didn’t know if I would ever stop.

I must have because I woke sometime later to the smell of food. I blinked open my eyes to see Daddy putting a plate down on the little nightstand, and then he sat down on the bed to look at me. “How’s your head?”

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