Bound to the Daddy (Knotted for Life)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

STEPHANIE

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I sit in traffic. The numbers on the clock slip by in an ever-increasing amount… and still I don’t move. I want to scream, to pitch a fit, or hell have some road rage.

But I’m still better off than if I tried going all the way home to shower. Heat flushes my face as I curl my hands around the wheel, gripping it tightly, as arousal slithers back through my veins. I just got off. I shouldn’t need to go again.

… And yet.

Fuck. I should be thinking of Brody. Yeah. Closing my eyes, I picture his washboard abs, black hair, and piercing eyes. He’s certainly a fine specimen of an Alpha, even if he can be so clueless sometimes. Every time we do this song and dance, I keep telling myself that men mature slower than women.

Perhaps he just needs some more time to grow up. Groaning, I rest my head on the wheel. How much longer do I have to wait?

My breath comes out in a puff as tears burn my eyes. I already made the decision to leave… I just need to do it. Stick to my guns and just break it off. Glancing over at my phone, I worry my bottom lip with my teeth. Should I call him? Or do it in person?

Maybe I should give him one more chance. Thankfully, since he’s booked out for a bit, the space will be good. It will let me think, clear my head, and approach this with a calm, rational frame of mind. More importantly, it will keep me away from Daddy Rothsbourne.

I can’t believe I got myself off thinking about him. What the hell is wrong with me? It really just must be all that pent up horniness. Granted, I don’t want to examine anything else far too close.

With a flick of my wrist, I crank the music up and drum along with the beat, doing my best to ignore the check engine light as it glares at me with impending doom. Once I can get a little extra money, I can take care of it. I don’t need Brody, and I sure as hell don’t need Mr. Rothsbourne.

“Fired? What do you mean, fired?” I do my best to keep the hysteria out of my voice, but to no avail.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Call came from corporate. Apparently, it’s a performance issue? I don’t understand it at all, but they were very clear that you cannot finish out the day. I’m so sorry, Steph,” my manager shrugs.

“This just doesn’t make sense,” I wail, my hands going numb as tingles go up and down my arms.

“Did you do something really bad?” She looks around as she lowers her voice. “Like steal something?”

“How can you even ask that?” My tone rises with every word as hurt, anger, and panic laces my voice. “When have I ever done anything like that?”

Again, she shrugs, and the helpless gesture just makes me even more upset. “I really don’t know. I just know it’s almost impossible to get fired from this job. They need all the workers they can get.”

“Maybe it’s a clerical error, then?” I grasp onto that small thread of hope, but it’s soon dashed.

“If it came from HR, maybe. But the owner himself called. You will be escorted off the premises once you gather your things. An officer will watch to make sure you get everything.”

My eyes narrow. “You mean so I don’t steal anything?”

“Hey. I don’t make the rules.”

“Well, what am I going to do now? Can I collect unemployment? Something?”

This time, her lips thin into a sympathetic smile. “Pray you have someone in high places who can help you. A termination like this can follow you, making it harder to get another job. As for unemployment, your type of termination disqualifies you.”

My heart sinks as she eases me toward a burly man in a security uniform. They didn’t have to send an Alpha. What am I going to do, scream these people to death?

Tears slip down my nose and cheeks as he leads me to my cubicle. It’s not as if I dreamt of doing data entry for the rest of my life, but it paid the bills. Now, I don’t even have that. I’ll be lucky if I can even be a server now. What in the hell could I have done?

I never used the company computer for personal research. I never made personal phone calls while on the clock. Hell, I clocked out every time I left my desk, even if it was for a quick drink of water. I did everything right. How could this have happened?

Looking around my cubicle, I do my best to ignore the curious stares and ducked heads as I pack up my meager belongings. Whispers flit around the space, and it doesn’t take a genius to know they’re about me. As I leave, my boss comes back and hands me an envelope.

“HR went ahead and cut your last check now. This way, you don’t have to come back, and we don’t have to track you down. I’ll listen out for any openings, and I’ll do my best to put in a good word for you.”

“Thank you,” I manage to croak, shifting the box in my hand to grab the check.

If only I took the money offered to me earlier. But no. I wanted to do this on my own. It was certainly enough to get me by until I could find something else. Why didn’t I just take it?

With a heavy sigh, I wonder if he’ll let me take it now. Probably not. Forget fixing my car. Forget any sort of frivolous spending. At this point, I’m strapped.

Mr. Rothsbourne’s words tickle the back of my mind. Would it really be so bad to let him handle this for me? For a moment, I allow my mind to drift, feeling deep within myself what it would really mean to have someone else take care of me. Knowing him, he’d make it so I wouldn’t have a care in the world.

I’d no doubt be pampered, never wanting for anything. It would be so easy to give in and let him shoulder this burden. It would be so relieving, so fundamentally life-changing…

It would be catastrophic. A heavy sigh flits through my lips as I face the very real reality threatening to cave in. Dreams are nice, but they’re just that… dreams.

I can’t allow myself to depend on him or anyone else in their family. A favor turns into another and another. Soon, I’ll be beholden to them. And what happens if I decide to actually break up with Brody?

Will all these favors suddenly turn into loans that I’ll never be able to repay? No. I’ll make do. I always have, and I always will.

I wait until I get into my car, and the guard leaves, before fully breaking down. Sobs wrack my body as all the emotion just pours out of me. With shaky fingers, I call the one person I can think of to help calm me down. After several rings, a message pops up.

Brody

In a meeting. Can this wait?

Of course, he’s in a meeting. He already told me he was with the DCC today. Fuck.

Stephanie

I just lost my job. Can I maybe stay over tonight?

Oh, man. That seriously sucks. I’d totally say yes, but I’m not going to be there. I’m flying out for a conference soon after this meeting.

Oh.

I didn’t realize.

Didn’t you see the calendar?

I thought those were just meetings.

No, babe. Why would I have meetings three weeks in a row? You gotta think for yourself sometimes. I can’t spoon feed everything to you. I’m flying out today, coming back in a few days, then flying out again.

I suppose you might be able to catch me on the weekends, but I’ll probably be busy with the boys.

Sorry. I just misunderstood. That’s all.

See you in three weeks.

And, hey. Don’t worry about the job. Something will open up. I know it will.

I drop the phone in my lap and stare out the window for a few minutes. Everything goes numb as I try to think through my list of friends. Unfortunately, it’s far shorter than it should be. Many grew up and left, leaving me with Brody and Mr. Rothsbourne.

But it’s not like he and I can go grab a pizza and I can bitch about how bad my day is. Now, more than ever, I regret not reaching out and putting an effort into getting to know my coworkers a bit better.

Still though, maybe the few I have will want to do something after work? Even after going through my list, they all seem to be busy. Word must have gotten around that I’m bad news or something.

Gritting my teeth, I grab my check. Maybe it will be enough to cover rent and get something nice for myself. I could do with a pint or two of chocolate chip cookie dough.

My heart sinks as I study it. There has to be something wrong. This isn’t nearly as much as I was expecting. Hopping out of the car, I make my way back to the building. The guard stops me, his fierce frown making my insides quiver.

“I need to speak with HR. Please. It’s important.”

“You’re no longer allowed in the building. I’m sorry, but those are the rules. There is sensitive information that you no longer have access to.”

“I didn’t fucking do anything wrong,” I screech, finally losing my cool.

He steps forward and places his hand on his hip. “You will leave quietly, or I will have to call for assistance.”

“Please,” I beg, finally losing all sense of self-pride. “Can’t you just escort me? I just need some help. Just a little help. Please.”

He holds his hand up, keeping me from stepping any further as he speaks into his radio. “What seems to be the issue?”

“It’s with my last paycheck. I’m missing a large chunk.”

Again, he speaks into his radio and listens for a moment. “According to them, all is correct. You were docked the last few days due to the incident leading to your termination. Now please leave before I have government enforcement remove you forcibly.”

This can’t be happening. This cannot be fucking happening. I don’t even have enough to fully cover my rent. What the hell am I going to do?

Thankfully, when I start the car, it cranks up without an issue. The check engine light is still there, but it should get me back to my apartment. As long as I can get home, I’ll be fine.

I stare at the television screen, but don’t really see what’s playing. Right now, it’s just noise in the background while I think. There’s a chance I could get a loan, but without a current job, that will be difficult.

The unemployment screen on my laptop fuzzes as tears blur my vision. Unfortunately, my boss was right. In bold, red letters, it says I’m not eligible. None of this makes any sense.

Who could I have pissed off? Who even knew me well enough to put in some false claim? Is it possible to sue? But then, the onus would be on me to prove I was wrongfully terminated. Not to mention how expensive lawyers can be.

Mr. Rothsbourne would have the money for a lawyer. I just don’t relish the idea of crawling to him like this. Not when I’m sure I can figure something else out.

With a determined sigh, I check online for possible job openings. With my car the way it is, something from home would be ideal, but I’ll take anything at this point.

Several hours go by, and I’m positively sick to my stomach. Whatever I’m accused of doing has been seeded into the internet. Not one application allows me to upload my resume.

Sliding my laptop off to the side, I curl up onto the couch and force myself to concentrate on the drama happening on the screen. If I can just sleep for a little bit, everything will be okay. I’m just far too panicked to think clearly. That’s all.

After another hour or two, my eyes close. Nightmares flit in and out of my dreams as I toss and turn on the couch, unable to really sleep all that deeply but not be awake either.

When the sun streams into my windows, I force myself to get up. Every joint aches. Every muscle is sore. Groaning, I stretch and do my best to get my brain into gear. Coffee only does so much, but at least the cobwebs are now cleared away.

Pulling down a calendar, I note the days left until rent is due. Three… Three fucking days. What can I do in three days?

For a half a minute, I debate giving some blow jobs or hand jobs to come up with the cash, but that’s not me. Even if I wasn’t with Brody, I don’t think I could do that. Deep down, I know I wouldn’t make a very convincing sex worker.

Helpless, I look around my apartment for things to sell in a hurry. Unfortunately, there’s not much. My laptop is the most expensive thing I own, but I need it to look for work. I suppose I could make do with my phone. A notification buzzes in drawing my attention.

Fuck. I forgot about the electric bill. Normally it doesn’t matter that it comes out on autopay since I always have enough for my bills and rent. But now, that’s another couple hundred I’ll have to make up somehow. Three days. Just three days.

Grabbing a bag, I throw several things in and walk to my local pawn shop. I don’t dare use my car more than I have to. Not until I know exactly what’s wrong with it and how much it will take to fix.

By the time I’m there, sweat pours down my back, and I nearly pant as I push my way through the door. Several people look at me, the judgment clear in their eyes. But I don’t have the luxury of caring. With a groan, I set my bag on the counter.

“How much for all of this?”

The man sifts through everything for a few minutes and frowns. “I could give you seventy-five.”

“For all of this? All of it? But this laptop is only two years old?”

He picks it up again and looks it over. “Yes, but this model is discontinued. No one’s buying this brand anymore.”

I can’t keep the tears at bay as I reach for it. “I was told it would last…”

“You were scammed. I don’t know what else to tell you. The seventy-five is generous. I’m planning on scrapping it and using it for parts. Do you want it or not?”

“I need a lot more than that.”

“How much?”

“At least six hundred?”

The man gives a low whistle. “Even if this was a new laptop, you wouldn’t get that much. Have you considered a loan?”

“I’ve never had one before. Is the process difficult?”

“Nah. I process hundreds. Let me see your identification.”

My fingers tremble as I pull the card out and hand it to him. I have no idea when I’m going to get another job or how I’m going to pay him back. But that will be a down the road problem. I’m far too busy dealing with now problems.

“Yeah. That’s going to be a no on the loan. Says here you’ve been fired. No job, no loan. Once you have employment, hit me up. I’ll see what we can give you to bridge the gap.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, taking my card back.

“Do you want to sell your stuff in the meantime?”

“Sure. It’s at least something. Right?”

“Right. Anything is better than nothing.”

Tucking the bills into my wallet, I make my way home, my heart so heavy it’s about to break. At what point do I call Mr. Rothsbourne? Brody is too busy to care, but his father made it seem like I can come to him with anything.

A heavy sigh flits through my lips as I pull out my phone. Try as I might, I just can’t do it. I’ve had issues with rent before, but the landlady has always been so kind and generous. If I could just have another week or two to figure things out, I’m sure I’ll figure something out.