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“He’s here because you kidnapped me,” I pointed out, unable to say much else in the face of my dad.
His face twisted into an ugly scowl. “I didn’tkidnapyou. I brought you home, where you belong—” His face got redder by the second, the anger flowing through his system apparent.
“This isn’t my home anymore!” I found my voice, so I shouted it at him, wanting him to understand—and wanting him to let me go. “My home is with Creed now, not you!” I tried to pull myself away from him, but his grip on my shoulders was like steel. He wouldn’t let me go.
Creed had to be outside, trying to get into the house. My dad probably locked the door and all the windows, but Creed wouldn’t let that stop him. No, he wouldn’t let anything stop him from reaching me.
My dad’s frown deepened, and one of his hands left my shoulder. With a jerk of that same hand, he backhanded me on the cheek, hard. The only reason I didn’t fall to the floor afterward was because his other hand still held onto me, therefore held me up. Pain blossomed on my cheek, a dull heat rising to the surface that told me it’d bruise.
“Shut your mouth,” he hissed out. “If you don’t—”
“If I don’t, what?” I asked, feeling bold. A lot bolder than I had earlier, when I’d been a limp doll while he’d taken me. “What are you going to do? You might be my dad, but I’m done taking your shit.”
That was apparently too mouthy for him, and my dad showed me exactly what he’d do. As it turned out, it was the same thing he’d done that day he’d come home, drunk, and I’d forgotten to have dinner ready.
He wrapped both hands around my neck and started to choke me.
Chapter Twenty – Creed
I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I should’ve driven Taylor to campus and picked her up after she’d told me that she’d felt something was off yesterday as she was walking home. I’d been in the business long enough to know that when your intuition tried to tell you something, it was usually because something was going on. A sixth sense.
So, when the guard had the front desk contact me and let me know that there’d been an ‘altercation’ twenty feet away from the front door, I knew. Even before I went down and saw the camera footage of what happened, I’d known.
Her dad had come for her again, and this time he’d refused to take no for an answer.
The mere fact that he thought he could come take her and have no repercussions pissed me the fuck off. He didn’t know what I did for a living; he probably saw the fancy skyscraper and assumed I was some rich fuck who sat on his ass all day telling others how to do their jobs.
But that wasn’t me. That would never be me. I was as take-charge as someone could be. I was more than willing to take matters into my own hands—and if my hands got bloody? Then so be it. Sometimes that was a part of life.
I went straight for my car to go after her, to go get her and bring her home. Her home was with me now, not that asshole, and I’d be damned if I wasted more time before giving chase. Every minute that passed was another minute she was with him, and I didn’t need a great imagination to think of ways that would be bad for Taylor.
I was peeling out of the parking garage soon after. I didn’t need to use my GPS; I remembered the way to the house. They’d never moved. My hands were so tight on the wheel my knuckles turned white.
I didn’t know how many times I dialed Taylor’s number, but she never answered. So I resorted to telling my car to text her. No response to my texts, either, as the minutes ticked by. I got stuck in some traffic downtown—driving was always a bitch when you had someplace to be and you had to be there now. It was like the world knew and threw everything it could at you, Murphy’s fucking Law.
The tension in me could be cut with a knife, it was so thick. My chest felt tighter than usual. If that asshole hurt her, if he laid a hand on her again… I wouldn’t look the other way. I couldn’t. I’d let him be out of respect for Taylor up until now, but I wouldn’t leave him alone this time. This time, the creed I followed would dictate his fate.
Cold, hard, swift justice. Retribution for everything he’d done to her, all the harmful words he’d ever thrown at her, all the times he’d laid his hands on her. When he hit her, pushed her around… when he choked her. I would make him regret all of it.
I was less than ten minutes away from the house when my phone rang, and I answered it without glancing at the screen, knowing in my heart who it was: Taylor.
“Taylor, I’m coming,” I said, my voice firm.
She spoke, sounding utterly worried, “I’m at the house. I’m sorry, I—”
I hated that she felt the need to apologize for this—this, something that wasn’t her fault, not by a longshot. “Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for, do you understand? Nothing. Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?” If he touched her… if he hurt her, I’d fucking lose it.
“I’m fine,” she said, though she sounded unsure about it. “How long until you get here?”
“I’m five minutes away. Where are you?”
“In my old room.”
My jaw ground, my fingers tightening around my phone as I made a sharp left turn. “Wait there. Don’t do anything until I get there.” Now was not the time to argue with me, and I was immediately grateful that she didn’t.
She simply said, “Okay.”
“Stay on the phone with me,” I instructed. “If you hear your dad coming back, put the phone down, but leave it on. I want to hear everything that asshole says to you.”
