Page 137 of Melt For Us, Daddy
“I’m okay. I don’t need to go to the hospital.” I just need my Daddy. And Ivy.
Before Holden could argue, the back door swung open and Braden came barreling through, his expression frantic. “Jacob! Are you okay? What the hell happened? I was wrapping things up and I checked the cameras just as Zach tackled… Is that your father?”
“It is. And I’m fine.”
“He’s not fine. We need to get him checked out. His father tried to strangle him.”
Frantic gave way to a fury so cold, Jacob swore he could feel ice forming along his skin. “He choked you?”
“Um. Yes, Sir. But I’m fine, really.”
Turning on his heel, Braden knelt beside Harlan, who’d gone back to ranting about being an untouchable prophet of God. Whatever Braden said next was delivered in a voice too low for Jacob to hear, but Harlan immediately stopped speaking and when Braden rose to his feet, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket to pull it back into place, Jacob noticed his father’s face was significantly whiter than it had been before.
With a check of his watch, Braden grimaced. “Looks like I won’t be making that cake tasting after all. Come on, Jacob. Let’s get you to a hospital.”
“Just a sec.” Holden pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed Braden a business card. “Call that number, tell Dr. Winters I’m referring you. Trust me when I say she’s more than equipped to handle this kind of thing.”
Braden’s brows raised slightly, but he didn’t question the order. “Got it. Come with me, Jacob.”
Glancing down at his now-silent father, Jacob tried to think of something witty or impactful to say. But the truth was… he had nothing left to say. As far as he was concerned, Harlan Redding was as good as dead to him.
So he simply turned on his heel to follow Braden back into the club. And left his father, and everything he represented, exactly where he belonged.
Behind him. For good.
Chapter 46
Cordelia
If she’d ever been more terrified in her life, she couldn’t remember.
From the moment she’d gotten the call from Braden, telling her that Harlan had shown up at the club and he was taking Jacob to the doctor, her heart hadn’t stopped its frantic beating against her ribcage. And now, as she yanked open the doors of the office where he’d told her to meet them, it felt like her heart might actually jump right out of her chest.
Please let him be okay. Please let my baby boy be okay.
“Jacob Redding,” she blurted out the moment she stepped up to the front desk. “I’m his—” She barely caught herself before saying she was his Daddy. “I need to see him.”
She’d prepared herself for a fight, but the nurse behind the desk immediately jumped to her feet. “I’ll buzz you right in, ma’am.”
It felt like eternity, those few seconds it took for the buzzer to sound so she could open the door.
“Follow me.”
A million questions burned on her tongue, all demanding answers. But she held them back, waited until the nurse stopped in front of one of the closed exam room doors and knocked.
“Come in!” a feminine voice called from the other side.
Pushing the door open, the nurse stepped aside and Cordelia’s knees nearly went weak with relief at the sight of her baby boy sitting on the edge of an exam table.
“Jacob.” The image of him blurred and she had to blink back the tears as she hurried over to him. Barely sparing a glance for the woman standing beside the table, Cordelia cupped his face in her hands, her heart twisting at the bruise already forming on his cheek. “Oh, baby. What happened to your face?”
“His father,” Braden answered, rising from a chair in the corner of the room. “From what Jacob says, he backhanded him twice and then tried to strangle him. Dr. Winters is checking him over, making sure we don’t need to take him to the hospital.”
She couldn't breathe. Couldn’t even think as she tried to process Braden’s words. “He tried to kill you.”
The words were quiet, and yet full of the deadly rage churning in her stomach.
Pale gray eyes locked on her as Jacob lifted his hand to cover hers. “I’m okay. Really. See? I’m right here, and I feel fine.” His voice was rough, a stark testament of what he’d endured.
