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Chapter 9
Jaxon
I hadn’t expected to see her face ever again, not after the second time, but here she was standing at my door with the same incredibly terrified look in her eyes that had been there when she’d first shown up eight long years ago. I’d run over the events of both nights in my head at least a thousand times since then, trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong and what I could have done to make her stay. I had convinced myself that I’d pushed her too far, that I’d asked for too much, that I had spanked her too hard, but as she stood there at my front door, I realized that it wasn’t that at all. She was here again because I hadn’t pushed her enough.
“Keri,” I whispered quietly. Her arm circled around her chest in a sort of defensive maneuver aimed at keeping me away. I wanted to touch her. I wanted her to know she wouldn’t be able to hide from me, but I held back. She would tell me why she was here first before I made any movements to assuage her fears. I didn’t know if she wanted that from me yet.
“Hi, Jaxon,” she said. Her voice shook and I knew this time would be different. She gripped her shoulder so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Whatever it was, it was forcing every protective bone in my body to spring to life. This time I reached for her, needing to touch her as much as she needed me to. Carefully, I pried her fingers from herself and gently straightened her arm at her side. She twitched nervously as she waited.
“Come in, little girl,” I said. She bit her lip and walked inside, and I pressed a hand against her lower back in a subtle possessive manner. I was pleased when she didn’t protest or pull away from me either. Purposefully, I led her into the study and sat her down on the couch. I took a seat on the couch across from her and when she didn’t begin speaking right away, I pushed her. She was going to tell me everything and I was going to take care of her.
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” I said firmly, watching intently as her body reacted to my presence. Her shoulders rounded just a bit, making her appear smaller. Her body language screamed with her submissive nature, but I knew she wasn’t that simple. She needed so much more. She was the real thing.
She needed Daddy.
She lifted her eyes anxiously toward mine.
“My father’s gotten out of prison and he’s coming for me,” she began.
“Go on, little girl,” I commanded firmly. I didn’t give her the option to pull back and hide. She was here to ask for my help. She needed my influence, but she also needed something else. Maybe she needed the safety net I provided. Maybe she needed my control.
Maybe she needed so much more than that.
She responded, just like I knew she would. The words poured out of her as she told me about her father’s threat, about the assistant he’d planted to gather intel on her, and even about the sniper who’d had a gun trained on her when she’d been sitting at her desk.
He’d threatened my little girl.
As she told her story, I knew she was telling the truth. There wasn’t even a sliver of dishonesty in those bright eyes of hers. This time, I would make no phone calls. I didn’t need to confirm her story. Eight years ago, I’d had her father put away and I’d stayed on his case ever since. I’d had complete control over which cell he was locked in, who was locked in there with him, or what the fucker ate at lunchtime. The bastard couldn’t say the wrong word without me finding out about it. His parole had come up and just when I had thought that it had been denied, someone else had pushed it through.
That person had already been fired. I’d seen to it myself. I hadn’t expected him to go after her though after all this time.
Even so, I knew she could handle this. The situation was dire, but she didn’t truly need me. If she really wanted to, she could have her father locked away for a long time all by herself. She had her own set of connections and could sort this out on her own if necessary. She didn’t really need my help. No. She needed something else from me.
“Are you telling me the truth, little girl?” I asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Answer me properly, little girl,” I chided her gently. Her mouth opened in a small gasp and her chest rose with something that rang of shock and the slightest hint of relief.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied as she blushed just as hard as the first time that I’d made her call me that. There was something else so. She was relieved that I was taking control.
“Good girl,” I said gently. She fidgeted on the couch and hesitantly looked back at me.
“You believe me?” she asked.
“I do believe you,” I answered.
“I didn’t know where to go or what to do,” she whispered.
“Why are you here?” I questioned.
Her brow furrowed with confusion.
“I need your help to deal with my father,” she finally murmured, but there was a soft edge to her tone that hadn’t been there before.
“You’re telling me the truth about why you need my help, little girl, but I think you’re lying to me about something else, about why you’re here in the first place,” I said firmly.
“What? I’m not sure what you mean…” she replied, her voice naively innocent. She’d grown even quieter. Her shoulders rounded further. Everything in her demeanor was screaming for me to take her and give her everything she needed. She would fight me, but I would conquer her in the end.
