Confused, I watched Callum get out of the car, jumping when the car door slammed. He was at my door in a few seconds and jerked it open.
“Get out of the car.”
“No.”
“Ashton, don’t let me take you out.” He unsnapped my seat belt. “You are rude and disrespectful. I’ve spoken to you about this behavior before, and I won’t stand for it from you.”
“You’re not my dad.”
It was surreal. I was going mad at the crazy emotions that battered against me. The fear and terror at being back here. The screams and explosion of the past that tainted my peace of mind. The arousal I sensed coming from him, even though he was angry. Even my own arousal at Callum acting so rough with me.
Maybe I could push his buttons. Push them so hard it became all about him and not the ghosts taunting me. Hating me. Judging me.
“Don’t do this to us,” Callum said softly. “I don’t deserve for you to treat me this way.”
Oh god, the pain in his words clawed at me. I was hurting him, and I didn’t know how to stop.
“I thought you were strict.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, undeniably crass. “But you’re not. You put up with every crap from me, then forgive me for it.”
“Don’t test me, Ashton.”
“You won’t do shit.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest. Had I pushed too far? An arm landed under my arm, and Callum pulled me from the car. Even then, he was being gentle as he pressed me against the vehicle.
“What the hell are you trying to do, Ashton?”
“Take me home.” I struggled against him. “And not to that shitty apartment either.”
“You really want to be punished right here and now, don’t you?”
“You won’t do shit,” I repeated. “Stop teasing me and take me home, Callum. Now!”
His hands fumbled with my belt buckle, and he jerked the leather belt from the loops of my jeans. I closed my eyes tightly, concentrating on him only and the anger radiating from him. The way he was rough but gentle at the same time.
I knew I was pushing the limit. Maybe we’d never come back from this, but I was fucking tired of not doing anything. Fucking tired of waiting for relapse to come.
Was this what my life would be reduced to? Counting hours, days, months, years of how sober I was?
“You’ve gotten a lot mouthy, boy.” Callum yanked my pants down to my knees and pulled me over the hood of the car, where he pushed me to sprawl. “I’m not going to put up with this attitude from you.”
“Go to hell!”
“You use your safe word if I hurt you,” he hissed.
Even now, he was still in Daddy mode. Did he think I was joking around with him? I wanted him to hurt me. To make me feel something other than this terror or numbness that had taken over my existence.
“I’m going to spank you with your own belt until you say you’re sorry.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t let me hurt you, Ashton.”
I snorted. He would never hurt me. Callum didn’t have the capacity to hurt me. Any other man would’ve either walked away from me or knocked me out for speaking to him the way I just did, but here Callum thought I just needed my ass spanked. He thought he was giving me what I needed.
I yelped when the belt connected with my ass. He wasn’t even hitting me hard. Dammit! I needed more.
He slapped me a few more times while I squirmed against the car. This road wasn’t popular because of its poor state, and hardly any cars drove here. Dad had only been taking the short route that night because my call meant he would’ve missed his flight.
I would’ve stayed with them too if there was a hope of a car coming along soon, but only a few ventured to the shortcut. For one, the streets had potholes drivers tended to avoid.
I’d just left them for a minute to get help. That was all. I would’ve come back. I swore I intended to return.
But then everything just went up in smokes. Literally.
“Hit me harder!” I yelled at Callum. “If you’re going to hit me, fucking do it right like a man!”
Instead of another sting of the belt against my skin, Callum righted me. What the hell was he doing?
He pulled my jeans and underwear back up. I couldn’t believe he’d leave me hanging with the punishment he promised me.