couch ignoring my stiff muscles. The memory of our kiss and my lingering dream of Brandon are momentarily put on hold as I make my way to the door. Hobbling over to the door, I question who could be here at this ungodly hour. Maybe another delivery of shoes. The notion has me reaching for the doorknob with a smile on my face.
But as I reach for it, a deep voice startles me.
“Don’t answer it.”
I turn and regard a sleepy War with furrowed brows. “Why not? It’s probably just a delivery.”
He growls and storms over to me. “Because,” he hisses, “what if it’s him? Did you even look? I have the alarm on for a reason, Bay. To protect you. The deliverymen always leave the packages on my doorstep per my instructions. Whoever is here is not delivering anything to me.”
Fear of Gabe assaults me and my knees buckle.
I could have just opened the door to him. I’d allowed myself to grow comfortable in War’s home and forgotten what was truly at stake had that man found me again. He could have snatched me up and taken me to his stupid cabin before I even knew what hit me.
I’m frozen as memories assault me.
Frozen cucumbers.
Butt plugs.
His large fingers probing and stretching every hole in my body.
A shudder wracks through me. Mom would be screwed and I’d live the rest of my life getting tortured by that sadistic monster.
No thank you.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him with tears in my eyes. “I didn’t think.”
He relaxes and I can see that he itches to comfort me in some way. Problem is, with War, there is no way. Only words, no embraces. “It’s okay. Go get dressed. I’ll figure out who it is.”
Hurrying away from the door, I make my way into my room. I locate a pair of jeans and T-shirt and dress in record speed. By the time I finish, I can hear raised voices in the other room.
Oh, God.
He’s here.
Snatching up a tall, metal candleholder from the bedside, I raise it and creep out of the room prepared to crack it over his head. War comes into view first, his features contorted into an angry scowl. I hold a finger to my lips to warn him. His face pales and he raises a hand.
“Bay, no!”
Charging from around the corner, I ready myself to kill Gabe. I’m furious for the horrors he put me through and am eager to break his skull. Then, this can all be over. I’m about to swing the candlestick when War snatches it from my grip and rips it away from me.
The man in the foyer is not Gabe.
He turns to regard me with a frown and I can see that this man is older and has greying hair mixed in with his dark hair. The man is almost an exact image of War.
“Baylee, this is my dad, Loveland McPherson.” War’s jaw is clenched in frustration as he sets the candlestick down on the entryway table.
I blink at the older man several times before responding. “I’m Baylee Winston, Mr. McPherson.”
My words seem to drag the man out of his stupor and he reaches a hand out for me. “Call me Land. And I must say, I’ve never known War to have anyone over before. Ever. Are you two…” he trails off as if searching for the right words, “together?”
Glancing at War, I plead with my eyes for him to handle the explanation.
He nods and clears his throat. “Dad, Baylee is my, uh, girlfriend.”
Land frowns at me before he flicks his gaze over to War. “And, son, how old is your girlfriend?”
FUCK.
I didn’t expect Dad to show up for one of his random visits. I mean, I know it had been awhile since he’d last visited, so I knew I was due for another. But the timing is horrible. He won’t understand about Baylee.
Her bottom lip trembles and I can almost feel her heartbeat in my ears. Thump, thump, thumping. I crave to hold her body that still quivers from the fear of thinking Gabe was here. The man is a fucking monster. I’m not sure I even want to know what all he’s done to her. It might make me crazier than I already am. Or homicidal.
“She’s seventeen.”
I wince and then count the seconds until he explodes. With Dad, it’s coming.
One, two, three, four…
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, WARREN THOMAS MCPHERSON?”
In a natural move, I stand between her and him. My dad wouldn’t hurt her. Ever.