Page 12 of Claimed By A Blue Eyed Menace

Parker didn’t respect this marriage. Didn’t respect me. She was still fighting. Still trying to figure out how far she could push before I snapped. I stepped under the scalding spray, letting the water beat down on my exhausted body. Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back, inhaling deeply as the heat worked into my muscles.

I had to find a common ground with her. Because if she kept pulling the shit she pulled tonight? I was gon’ tie her ass up for real.

PARKER

T h e s h a r p b u z zof my phone yanked me out of my sleep. I groaned, rolling over in bed, eyes still heavy with exhaustion. My body ached from a mix of too many drinks, too much dancing, and too much stress.

The events of last night came rushing back in fragments—dancing with my girls, that fine-ass man stepping to me, then the air shifting like a cold front hit the club when Shooter walked in. The look in his eyes. The way he dragged me out of there with just two words. I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling deeply through my nose.I can’t believe this is my life now.

The phone kept ringing, vibrating on the nightstand like it had all the authority in the world. I reached for it without opening my eyes, knowing it was probably one of my friends calling to get the tea. But when I squinted at the screen, my stomach tightened.

Daddy.

A sigh pushed through my lips. Of course. He probably heard about last night. I hesitated before answering, already knowing how this conversation was about to go. “Hello?”

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out?” His voice was cold, clipped. “What the hell were you doing at some bar last night, Parker?”

I exhaled, pushing myself up in bed, my back hitting the headboard. “Having a life, Daddy.”

“A life?” His voice sharpened like a blade. “You’re a married woman now.”

A lump formed in my throat. There it was. The gut-punching truth I had been avoiding since the moment that man slid a ring onto my finger. I was really married. To Shooter fucking Mosley. My silence didn’t go unnoticed.

“My daughter, sneaking out of her husband’s home to go shake her ass,” my father continued. “How do you think that looks?”

I scoffed, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. “Like I was enjoying my damn self for once.”

“You embarrassed yourself,” he bit out. “Embarrassed me. And do you have any idea how furious Shooter was?”

My jaw clenched. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas.”

The tension from last night still lingered in my bones. The car ride home had been suffocating, thick with unspoken threats. The way he had looked at me in the kitchen, backing me into the counter, inhaling my scent like he was trying to brand me. I quivered at the thought.

“I don’t know what childish game you think you’re playing,” my father said, voice low and dangerous. “But youwillfall in line, Parker.”

I shot up from the bed, pacing barefoot across the cool hardwood floors. “Or what?” I challenged. “You’ll hand me off to another man like I’m a goddamn business deal?” His silence was an answer in itself. My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. “You don’t care about me,” I said, voice shaking. “You never have.”

A slow exhale came through the phone. “I do care about you, Parker. That’s why I did what I did.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “You sold me.”

“Iprotectedyou,” he corrected sharply. “Do you have any idea what kind of enemies you would have inherited if this marriage fell apart? If we broke our deal with the Mosleys?” I stilled. “Shooter is a lot of things,” he continued, voice tight, “but he won’t let anything happen to you. And that’s more than I can say for anyone else in our world.”

My head throbbed with frustration. “I don’t need a protector. I need my freedom.”

“That was never an option,” he said.

And just like that, I felt the walls of my reality closing in on me. I was trapped. Caged. Bound to a man I didn’t want, in a life I never agreed to. I sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly. “I have to go.”

“Parker…”

I hung up. The phone slipped from my fingers, landing on the bed with a soft thud as I pressed my hands to my face. I barely had time to gather myself before a knock sounded at the door. Sharp. Impatient. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose before slowly exhaling. Of course, it was Shooter. His ass wouldn’t just be walking in this room ever since I’d hidden the key.

Pulling my robe off the chair, I slipped it over my nightgown, tying it snugly around my waist before padding over to the door. My fingers hesitated on the handle for a fraction of a second before I unlocked it and pulled it open.

Shooter stood on the other side, tall and imposing, his frame filling the doorway as he held a shopping bag. His piercing blue eyes dragged over me, slow and heavy, making my skin prickle. I stiffened, gripping the lapels of my robe tighter. He was fresh out of the shower, the scent of soap and cologne clinging to him as he adjusted the towel wrapped around his chiseled waist. Tattoos everywhere.

His gaze lifted from my body to my face, and something flickered in those cold, unreadable eyes. Then his lips parted. “Get dressed.” His voice was low, rough. “We got a brunch to attend.”

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