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I send her a short reply telling her to have a good time. I know most people would think that our interactions are weird, but this is just how it’s always been. It would be odd to me if we were any different.
Rolling my shoulders back, I close my laptop and finish off my drink, letting the bitter sweetness coat my tongue and savoring it until my phone vibrates with an incoming text message. My heart speeds up, thinking it might be my dad. All I have to do is flip it over and look, but I hesitate. I want it to be him, but also know that if it isn’t, that disappointment will set in.
Another buzz goes off and I swallow harshly before turning over my phone and touching the screen. Justina’s name shows in my notification bar and instantly I’m let down. I love Just, but she’s definitely not the person I want to talk to right now. I’m tempted to ignore her messages, but she’s relentless, so I just swipe up and answer her. She wants to go out for drinks, and I just don’t have it in me to be sociable right now, which is exactly what I tell her.
We text back and forth before she concedes on letting me be aHomebody Hanna,and I tell her to call me if she ends up needing a ride home from wherever she ends up tonight.
I get up from the island and swipe my Kindle reader from the end table so I can go read in bed. Nothing like a quiet night at home with me and whatever fictional book boyfriend I can sink my teeth into. I don’t know what these authors put in these books, but it’s crack. I’m absolutely feral for every word they give me, letting me escape life for even just a moment when stress sets in. It also doesn’t hurt the way some of these books light my body on fire and let my mind explore different scenarios… like fucking my dad.
Sliding into the cool dark teal sheets of my bed, I fluff my pillows before grabbing my remote and turning on some ambient music before I start getting lost in another world. Time moves slowly and quickly until I notice I’m halfway through this book, and the spice is starting to escalate. I’ve never wanted to be on the receiving end of a grumpy tattoo artist more than I have right now. The taboo nature of this book is exactly why I love reading. The tension has been building not only in the book but in me as well as I feel everything the characters do. The way authors can elicit such emotions and feelings in me is a gift, and I can feel my legs rubbing together, trying to relieve the ache I feel.
My fingers creep down while I keep reading. Thank you for swipe ability. The words egg me on until I’m sliding my digits over my clit, playing with myself as I picture everything that the main characters are doing is my dad and me. I close my eyes and drop the Kindle as I envision him between my legs, stroking through my folds and circling my nub, teasing me until I beg. My body is wound up so tightly that it only takes minutes until my orgasm washes over me, leaving me boneless and slack against my bed. Bringing my fingers up to my mouth, I suck myself off of them before pulling my comforter up and over me. Turning onto my side, I sigh.
I really need to get laid soon. He’s got until Sunday when I’ll be showing back up for dinner. Either way, we’re talking. If he’s not going to give in, well, someone else will.
And I want back into Club Opal.
CHAPTER12
OCTOBER
Ijolt awake when I hear some kind of scraping noise over the music playing low from the TV. What the hell is that? I strain to hear, hardly breathing when I hear a quiet, “Fuck. Just grab whatever and let’s go. I think they're home. Thought you scoped this place out, Bobby. You fucking imbecile. There’s nothing even worth anything except for the computer. Let’s fucking go. Waste of fucking time.”
This can’t be fucking happening to me. I keep quiet as I reach across my bed and grab my phone, swiping it up and quickly dialing.
My hands are shaking so badly as the ringing continues until finally a gruff, “Hello?” answers me. I want to cry.
“Da-daddy?” I whisper, barely getting the words out.
“October? It’s fucking three in the morning. Why are you calling and why are you whispering? Where are you? What’s wrong?” he rapid fires off at me, and I feel so overwhelmed.
“Ho-home. Dad, someone’s here. It woke me up. I can hear them outside of my bedroom door. Daddy, what do I do?” I’m spiraling and I can feel myself starting to lose it as I shove my fist into my mouth to keep quiet.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Listen to me. I’m on my way. Go into the bathroom and barricade yourself in or crawl under the bed. Can you do that for me, wildcat?” I hear commotion coming through the phone and what sounds like his keys, and I know he’s coming. He’ll be here soon.
“Yea. Yes, I can do that. I don’t think they’re gonna come in here. It sounded like they were trying to leave. I should probably hang up and call the cops. I should have done that first. Stupid of me,” I quietly ramble off as I slide out of bed, inching my way into the bathroom just to be safe.
“No, babygirl. You aren’t stupid. I’ve already made a call. I’ve got someone who lives closer that will be there in two minutes, and I’ll be there in ten. I love you, wildcat. Just stay on the phone with me. I can’t deal with you not being on the other end.” Now he’s the one rambling. Wildcat. He’s never called me that before, not since I was riding his lap and he wasn’t exactly conscious. I’ve always been O or Tenny when I was younger, but I kind of like wildcat. It causes butterflies to sprout up in my stomach and throat.
“Okay. I’m in the bathroom now. The door is locked. I’m sorry to have woken you up, but could you maybe talk to me, please? I don’t care about what, just need to listen to your voice to calm my nerves,” I ask, not ashamed to admit that I need him to soothe me.
“Yea, I can do that. So let me fill you in on what’s going on with youruncles…” He starts going on about what his best friends have been up to. My self-proclaimed uncles since I was a child and I hear all about Uncle Clark having a freaking ballerina granddaughter and how Uncle Banks threw someone into a glass case. He keeps going, telling me about some of his other friends that I don’t know that well, and I just listen to him and before I know it, he says, “I’m coming in. Four knocks on the bathroom door and it’s me.”Knock knock knock,then a pause and finalknock.
I get up off the bathroom floor and unlock the door to pull it open just enough to peer out and see him there. He looks like a god looming there. Tight blue t-shirt and black joggers with black sneakers on his feet. His hair is all disheveled and his jaw is clenched so fiercely I’m worried he’s going to crack one of his teeth. Just the sight of him has all the remaining tension leaving my body as I fling the door open and throw myself at him. He catches me easily and wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against his body and holding me tight enough that I can barely expand my chest to breathe.
This. This is what I needed.
He buries his nose in my hair as if he himself needs to be grounded. Needs the reassurance that I’m here and I’m okay. He pulls back just enough to look at my face before placing a kiss on my forehead.
“You’re okay.” It’s a statement, not a question.
But I answer anyway, “Yea, Dad, I’m okay.” The entire apartment is quiet. Eerily so.
“Where’s your friend?” I ask, looking up at him.
He chuckles before responding, “I don’t think anyone can call McKenna their friend. Let’s just say he’s someone I know through Banks, and he’s a businessman. He owns a body shop a couple of miles away and lives not far from here.” I squint my eyes up at him. I’m not dumb. I know that whoever this guy is, you either have him on your side or you don’t. Something sinister almost vibrates in the air when he talks about him, but since my dad trusts him enough to call him in the middle of the night to show up, I choose to let it go. Any other time I would be pushing for more info because I can be nosey like that.
“Are the cops on the way? I should probably change.” We both look down at my clothes, at my words and the sharp intake of breath that leaves him lets me know he’s just as affected by me as I am by him. I’m in a simple gray tank top. Nothing fancy and the straps are wide even if the material is soft and thin, but my nipples poke out naturally due to the size of my chest, and they immediately start to harden, knowing he’s looking at me.
