Page 35 of The Vow Thief
I sat in the small, windowless meeting room, Chanelle Winston’s legal pad lying between us. "Lily, I received a call from your father. He wants you home by tonight, but you have to agree to his terms. If you don't, you stay in here until the entire legal process works itself out. This man can pull strings better...."
"I know what he is capable of, Chanelle." I barked.
Fuck him. I would rather rot in this place than accept his help. He can fuck off. Elliott Thompson was not a good man, and he was a worse husband and father.
"He said you have to call him before he... uh, makes it happen," Chanelle said with obvious discomfort.
The phone sat on the table, heavy and black, coiled cord curled like a snake. I stared at it, my fingertips drumming the edge of my chair as I weighed my options, hating all of them.
“You don’t have to do this,” Chanelle said, though her tone carried more curiosity than concern.
“Oh, I have to,” I replied, picking up the receiver.“I just wish it didn’t feel like licking the bottom of a boot.”
Chanelle’s eyebrow lifted.“We can work through the legal process, Lily.”
“Elliot Thompson’s boot or bust,” I said with a smirk, dialing the number I’d sworn I’d never use again.
Three rings. A click.
“Lily,” my father's voice oozed through the line, smooth and deep, like he’d been expecting me all along.“I was wondering how long it would take.”
“Hello, Daddy,” I said, forcing lightness into my tone.“Miss me?”
“I miss my name not being dragged through the mud every time you self-destruct.”
I smirked.“Well, lucky for you, I’m calling to give you a chance to clean it up.”
A pause. I could almost hear him smiling.“You need my help.”
“I need my freedom.”
“And you know my help isn’t free.”
I didn’t ask what he meant; I already knew. The repayment was preloaded, the same threat he’d dangled since I was eighteen.
“You’ve got some poor bastard lined up, don’t you?” I asked.
His voice softened, which somehow made it worse.“He’s not poor. He’s a good man. Old family. Wealth. Influence. The kind of man who could give you stability… and give me an alliance I’ve been working toward for years.”
“And a baby,” I said flatly.
“That would be the natural progression, yes.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d watched my father cheat on my mother for decades, parading mistresses through our lives under the guise of“business.” He wanted me locked into the same trap, barefoot, pregnant, and smiling for the cameras while my husband took his pleasures elsewhere.
“I’m not your bargaining chip,” I said.
“You are my daughter,” he replied, his tone edged with steel.“That means you are part of my legacy. You can spit on it, or you can make something of it. Right now, you’re sitting in a cage. I’m offering you a way out.”
I stared at the scuffed floor, hating myself for hesitating. I could play Sean Macon all I wanted, but Sean couldn’t get my charges dropped. My father could.
“Fine,” I said at last.“But on my terms.”
A low chuckle came through the line.“Lily, you’ve never had terms with me.”
“Then maybe it’s time you learned I’m not sixteen anymore.”
“Yet here you are, calling me from jail,” he said, and I could hear the victory in his voice.
