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“Isn’t that the girl who was killed?”
“Yes.”
“My condolences,” my father said with genuine sympathy.
In fact, he’d been surprisingly…warm and concerned through the entire conversation. A part of me wondered if our relationship would have been a whole lot smoother if I’d run away years ago.
“Please let Emma know we’re on our way.”
“Will do.” Grant nodded and ended the call before worry lined his face. “Tell me why you were crying when you first started talking to him, little one?”
As I explained how the wordhoneyhad knocked the wind from my sails, and how his demeanor was so shockingly different, Grant simply stroked my back and listened.
“Maybe things can be different now.” He shrugged.
“I’m not getting my hopes up. There’s been a whole lot of water under the bridge between me and my parents.”
“The thing about water is…when it flows away, new water takes its place.” I slowly nodded and pondered his words. “You don’t have to decide to make any amends with them today. But we do need to find your clothes.”
“I don’t know where they are. Hell, I don’t even know when Wesley took them off. All I know is I need a shower.”
“You can’t take one until you’ve been checked out at the hospital, baby.”
“Why not? He didn’t rape me or anything.”
“That you know of. You were naked and unconscious when I found you. He could have easily—”
“Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t even want to think about it. I never woke up feeling…violated.”
“Sweetheart, that crazy cocksucker violated you the day he kidnapped you.” Grant kissed the top of my head, then cradled me to his chest and stood. “Let’s look for your clothes.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Grant
Emma’s shirt and yoga pants were draped over a chair in Wesley’s bedroom…which could only be described as a chamber of horrors. Between the satanic symbols and statues, the altar teeming with voodoo-type offerings and little bowls of blood, I knew the reason for Wesley’s dark, demonic soul.
Gaping at the unholy objects on display, Emma paled and darted out of the room. I quickly snatched up her clothes and followed, slamming the door behind me.
When I rounded the corner and stepped into the living room, the sheet was on the floor.
Visibly rattled, Emma muttered under her breath as she tugged on her yoga pants and yanked the blood-stained shirt over her head. My stomach knotted. She looked like she’d been in a wreck.
“Louder, little one. I want to hear what you’re saying,” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.
Slapping her hands on her hips, Emma jerked her head up. The anger lining her face and blazing in her eyes made me want to toss up a fist pump. When I’d found her bound to the bed, I feared Wesley had not only beaten her but also broken her spirit. He hadn’t, and I was fucking ecstatic!
That’s it, my little hellcat. Get as mad as you want…as mad as you can.
“You want louder?” she snapped. “Fine. I’ll give you louder…”
Her sarcastic tone clawed my Dominant soul and made my palm itch. Tamping down the innate longing to drag her over my knee, I let Emma purge her rage.
“I can’t believe myown parentsset me up and arranged marriage between me…Me, their only child…their onlydaughter….their own fucking flesh and blood, and t-that devil worshiping lunatic!”
Emma tossed her hands in the air, then started pacing.
“Okay. Yeah, sure…maybemy folks didn’t know Wesley was crazier than a shit-house rat. God knows,Ididn’t. Buthisparents did. Theyknewhe was a dozen clowns short of a circus and didn’t say aword! Not one fucking word. They played me, just like Wesley did. Played me, and nearly ruined my life, for nothing but…money,” she yelled, slamming her fists on the arm of the chair.
