Chapter 2
Cook
What the fuck had Maddie just called me? I looked at her and then back at Doc and then to the fucking psychotherapy doctor. Did none of them have a thing to say about Maddie calling me Daddy?
“Maddie,” said Doctor Richardson. “You’re experiencing shock. This is Cook. He was there when you were rescued, but he is not your father.”
Doc furrowed his brow. “Why would she think that, anyway? Cook’s not old enough to be her father.”
Doctor Richardson said, “It’s not uncommon in trauma cases for someone to revert back to a time when they were happy. Childhood was probably the last time she felt safe and loved. Something about him is pulling that out.”
My brows climbed my forehead.The word daddy was fucking poison, not a goddamn vial of happy juice. “I’m sure as shit not anyone’s daddy... at least not in the biological sense.” And not in any other sense of the godforsaken word.
They both glanced over but didn’t respond. I could only imagine how it made Maddie feel, because I’d probably go feral on the doctors too if they decided to treat me like an idiot. Instead, Doc and Richardson went back to talking about Maddie and me like we weren’t even in the fucking room.
Doc had never been like this before. So, for a hot second, I wondered if he was putting on appearances for the new female doctor in the Ridge.
“Check your bedside manner, Doc,” I grumbled, earning a sour look from the burly man.
Maddie stood at my side. She’d moved closer, but with my reaction, she was slinking away. I tried to reach for her, but she jumped back. Terror filled her eyes, the same look I’d first seen in her at Signora’s. She was curling in on herself like a wilting flower, not the strong and brave woman I had seen when I had first entered this room.
She didn’t revert to a childlike phase, and she damn well knew I wasn’t her father. So why did she call me Daddy?
“Better reason to give her a sedative,” said Doc, still holding the needle toward Maddie.
“No.” I maneuvered in front of Maddie, shielding her behind my back in the corner. “You’re not fucking sticking her with that.”
“Cook,” Doc started.
“No,” I said again. “She’s said no, and you’re not listening. Instead, you, like all the others who’ve taken advantage of her, are telling her what’s best. Did you ever think to ask her? Let her make her own choice?”
The look on Doc’s face and the silence said thousands of words.
“I didn’t think so. She’s not a child. She said no. Respect that,” I said.
“Thank you.” Maddie peeped from behind me.
“Cook, you don’t understand,” began Doctor Richardson.
I glared at the woman. “I understand that I’m looking at a rich bitch who came to my town in her hoity-toity suits and updos and won’t listen to the very person she’s hell bent on ‘saving.’”
Doc rolled his eyes. “Ava, you’re going to have to learn how to back off with the MC. Cook’s mind is set, and you’re not getting through.”
Ignoring Doc’s spot-on answer, I kept my eyes glued to the woman. “What I do understand is that Maddie is scared, and I know she doesn’t have to be here. This isn’t going to become just another prison for her.”
“It’s not?” asked Maddie, peeking around my shoulder. She held on to the back of my shirt again, wrapping her fingers into the fabric. The weight of her, though not much, pressed into my back. I liked the touch, and I would miss it when she moved away.
I faced her. “No. You are free to leave whenever your pretty little heart desires.”
Gnawing on her bottom lip, she glanced toward the door. “Free?”
It was like she didn’t believe me. After all she had been through, I doubted she believed any of us. But then Maddie met my gaze. Something flashed in her vision. She stood a little straighter. Her eyes had a determined gleam.
“I do want to leave,” she said to me.
I put up my hands, not about to be the one holding her back.
Maddie turned to Doc and the head doc, lifting her chin. “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving.” Her voice didn’t leave room for argument.
Pride shimmered in me before I pushed it away. Why was I proud? I barely knew Maddie, but I wanted to know more of her. For her to touch me again. I wanted her body fitted against mine.
Doctor Richardson shared a look with Doc and then said, “Maddie, I don’t recommend that. You are in need of care. We can offer you that here. You need help after all you’ve been through—”
“You were going to shoot me up,” hissed Maddie. “How is that better?”
Doc capped the needle in defeat, and Doctor Richardson worked her jaw. “Fine. But you’ll have to fill out forms, acknowledging the risks of checking yourself out.”
Maddie glanced at me, and my heartbeat quickened. What the fuck was this woman doing to me? And how? I didn’t do this with girls—women. Maddie was a woman, but one who called me Daddy. My cock twitched at the memory, and I hated myself for the stir of desire over something so fucking sick.
“I want out,” said Maddie.
“Okay,” said Doctor Richardson. “We’ll get the paperwork in order and call Melanie. She can take you—”
“No.” Maddie lurched a step back, almost knocking into the floor. I caught her before she hurt herself. She swayed on her feet and then stood again. “I’m not going with her,” she said to Doctor Richardson.
“You have nowhere else to go,” said Doctor Richardson.
“Yes, she does,” I said before I thought. I really should’ve been thinking, but my cock was basically talking for me. Of course it would. I didn’t have enough blood to operate two heads at once.
Maddie stared up at me. A glossiness had overtaken her vision. I hated to see her sad.
“She can come”—I swallowed hard and shoved a hand through my hair—“She can come home with me.”
I knocked my head against the wall. Why the fuck would I take Maddie back to my place? She needed to stay here and get better. I couldn’t help her, but I couldn’t let her get shot up either, with God knew what. Fuck that shit. But seriously, what was I doing?
Taking home a woman who called me Daddy was about the stupidest thing a man could do. Extreme even for me.
Kimmers helped Maddie check out, doing all that stupid paperwork. For this outpatient hospital thing they had set up in the Ridge, Doc had gone all the way with the unnecessary paperwork.
Doctor Richardson was trying to talk Maddie out of it again, saying she needed more medical support, but Maddie scribbled on the sheets and then pushed away from the desk.
I glanced down at her signature, and it looked a bit childish. When I glanced up, she’d moved away.
Maddie was halfway out the door before I reached her. She didn’t even look back and moved so quickly, like a scared rabbit running from a wolf. I should let her go. She had been held in enough places.
She stopped on the curb, holding her arms wide and relishing being in the wide open. Seeing the small moment of hope in her with her face tilted up to the sun, I called out, “My car is over here.”
Being a paler, skinnier version of Angel’s ol’ lady, Maddie needed the sun on her face and a burger in her belly. I hadn’t been sure whether she would take off as soon as we exited the recovery house. A fucking hospital, more or less.
Maddie took several deep breaths. What was she thinking? Or planning? If she started running, what would I do? As much as I hated to admit it, I’d probably chase her down and drag her back to the car. She wouldn’t go back to the hospital, but she seemed okay with me.
For what reason, I couldn’t be sure. It reminded me of the way she’d clung to me up at Barton Mill when we’d found her in that galley.
Maddie slowly turned toward me, biting her bottom lip and looking nervously at the hospital. Baggy clothes hid her willowy figure, the t-shirt displaying scrawled and faded text. It had to be someone’s hand-me-down, or a find at a thrift shop. Her pant legs had been rolled up to the ankles, and the waist was tightened around her stomach. Even her donated shoes were too big.
I hadn’t considered her that small until I noticed that the clothes almost swallowed her whole. However, she stood taller, jutted out her jaw, and then she strolled down the row of cars. She only hesitated because she didn’t know which car was mine.
I walked over to my old white and blue Bronco and threw in the key. She waited on the other side of the door. Maybe I shouldn’t have called her back and let her go. Either way, I unlocked the passenger door, and she climbed inside. As soon as I started up the car, music blasted out of the radio, and I turned down the dial without turning it off. Rock music rumbled from the old speakers, the radio cutting to another song.
“Where are we going?” asked Maddie.
“It depends,” I said, gritting my teeth. I needed to do this, so I faced her. “What was up with the calling me Daddy?” It sounded fucking weird coming out of my mouth.
She leaned back in the seat. A small shudder overtook her shoulders, and her clothes flapped in the breeze. Was I a bastard for asking her that? She remained silent, averted her eyes. Fuck, I was just like one of the monsters who told her what to do.
“Just don’t call me that,” I said. “Okay?”
After a few long seconds, she nodded.
“Okay.” I drummed my fingers over the steering wheel and then pulled out of the parking lot.
I didn’t quite know where I was going, but I needed to get her away from the hospital.
What would’ve happened if I wasn’t there?
How would being drugged have shaped her?
I trusted Doc—I had to for how much he had helped me and my guys—but I didn’t know the woman doctor. I didn’t trust her. Doc had brought her to Park Ridge for the kids and whoever else needed her. Honestly, of those trafficked by Amaranta Gambino, who didn’t need her?
Apparently, Maddie.
I was on the highway, heading toward the old house, the one where I shot my own father a hundred years ago. Another lifetime ago, anyway.
There was too much pain in that house and now it was little more than a bed, some bare walls, a bunch of crackling stucco, and too much history. I needed to take Maddie somewhere she wouldn’t feel dirty—somewhere she could feel free and alive—so that wasn’t the place. That dingy house was filled with death.
On the next exit, I flipped a bitch and headed in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” asked Maddie, glancing out the window, but not seeming like it really mattered.
“Phoenix,” I said, unsure how this would go even as we went.
Where else was I supposed to take her? Bou’s place was too small until she and Wilde finished their house, and Celt was dealing with Roni. Plus, everyone in the club believed in the recovery house. I didn’t want anyone coddling Maddie while secretly trying to get her to go back.
Doc mentioned that Maddie got agitated when they mentioned her sister, something they wanted to watch closely. When we went into the mill, it had floored me when Maddie had ignored Melanie and crawled into my arms.
There was something between them that needed to heal. I’d seen the torment in Melanie’s eyes, but in the heat of that situation, everyone wanted me to get Maddie out.
“Why Phoenix?” asked Maddie in a small voice and chewed on her cuticle.
I pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Why are you speaking like that?”
“Like what?”
“In a small voice,” I said. “You didn’t sound like that before when you were standing up to the doctors. Or just... before.”
Was it because I told her to stop calling me Daddy? That shit was weird, and in my book, Daddy is a goddamn four-letter word. I shifted in my seat and pushed the pedal down. The Bronco roared into another gear, and I sped down the highway.
When I’d told her to stop, she’d recoiled, like now. As if I was no better than Doc or Richardson. The vibrant light in her eyes dulled, and the jut of her jaw lowered. The strong woman I had seen had curled up inside of her.
If this was how she was going to react, maybe I should take her back to Doc.
No. I wasn’t fucking doing that. I had seen what hospitals did to people. And head shrinks. Doc could fix up the body, but it took a lot to heal the mind. That much was clear with my own mother. Years and years of therapy, and she never seemed to get past a certain point. The drugs she took now kept her functional and controlled her obsessive behavior for the most part, but all that talking-it-out shit never seemed to work.
I tightened my hands on the steering wheel. It was that or turn up the music and ignore all my problems.
“Sorry I upset you,” I said.
“I’ll try not to call you that again,” she said in a sad, small voice.
My chest ached.
Slowly, Maddie raised her head. She had herself pressed against the far side door, like she meant to be as far away from me as possible. The angle allowed me to see all of her, take her in. Something squeezed in my chest, and I jerked the car, almost swerving off the shoulder.
“Everything okay?” asked Maddie, her voice stronger now.
“Yeah.” I combed my hair back with my fingers and then put on my blinker, taking the next exit. “We’re going to my mom’s house.”
“Your mom’s?” Maddie straightened in the passenger seat. “Don’t you have your own place?”
The last place she needed to go was my place. Granted, I couldn’t and didn’t want to explain that situation. She had enough to deal with and certainly didn’t need my shit on top of her own.
“Yeah.” I eyed the long highway before me, heat making the road sizzle.
“Yeah?” ventured Maddie, leaning toward me. The seatbelt strained against her body, separated her breasts, and whispered naughty things to my inner twelve-year-old boy.
“Sit back,” I ordered.
“Why?”
Because I’m about to pull over so I can get two palmfuls of those mouthwatering chesticles.I couldn’t tell her that, though. “You’ll get hurt.”
“Only if we crash,”
I jerked my eyes away from the road to check her expression. No one had that morbid of a deadpan, but her eyes were childlike. Innocent. Twelve years old, I had to remind myself. She was taken at twelve, so maybe that’s the line her parents fed her once upon a time.
With my jaw set, I focused on the road. “We’re not going to crash.” I had never been in a car accident before.
“Then why do you look so concerned?” asked Maddie.
“I’m not concerned,” I said.
“You’re acting like it.”
“I’m just being protective,” I said. “Now sit back in the seat.”
After a long couple of seconds, Maddie leaned back, facing the front windshield too. I loved this Bronco, but I had to fix it up often. One more problem with the carburetor, and this car would be toast. Hopefully, the problem wouldn’t occur on the highway, or we would be roadkill.
My stomach grumbled, a reminder I’d skipped breakfast this morning.
“Wanna stop and grab a couple of tacos?” I asked.
When she looked over at me, her eyes were wide, as if tacos were heaven-sent.
I chuckled. “If you like carne asada, you’ll have to try my side of beef.”
“Your what?”
“You know. A nice, rare cut. Tender, red, and so juicy it’ll drip down your fingers. Messy, lickable, and oh so delish!” My mouth was watering now, so I needed to stop thinking about grilling or smoking. And I certainly didn’t need to be thinking about lickable juices. I veered into Ta’Carbon for some carne asada tacos cooked over mesquite.
I wolfed down two tacos before Maddie touched hers. She stared into the bag like something might dart out and bite her.
“They’re good. Try ’em,” I said with a full mouth.
Keeping quiet, I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she unwrapped a taco and tasted each ingredient individually. Her eyes flitted toward me as she ate. This was clearly something new to her, and it infuriated me. How could someone starve a person like this? Her sister’s frame and muscles had her rocking curves rather than protruding bone. If Sas hadn’t fucking killed Amaranta Gambino, I’d drive out there, put the bitch on a spit, and roast her alive.
“They’re delicious,” Maddie said when she finished the first one, but then she tucked the bag away, leaving the second taco.
“You don’t want the last one?” I asked.
She wiped her mouth and shook her head. “I’m stuffed.”
My jaw clenched. Who the fuck filled up on a single taco?
I forced a smile and told her to save it for later.
When I pulled into Mom’s driveway, the curtain in the front window fluttered down. I looked over my shoulder at the street. It was too late to back out now. This house was smaller than the ranch house in the Ridge, but it was in far better shape. It still wasn’t an ideal situation, but I didn’t have a good one to offer. At least the flowers and lawn were in good order, and the windows were washed. The blue paint with white trim and the white picket fence were all kept up well, thanks to the team Mom had caring for her.
“Did you grow up here?” asked Maddie, leaning toward the windshield. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide.
“No. I moved here when I was sixteen or so,” I said. I never spent much time in the house since I stayed in the tiny school in Park Ridge. Then, after school, I hung out with Celt and his family when I wasn’t working. Only on occasion would I drive to Phoenix at night, and I never told my second family what had happened to Mom or the druggie bastard who’d nearly killed her.
“It’s a nice house,” said Maddie, but she pinched her lips tight as she assessed everything in view.
I grimaced. This house was a piece of crap, but nowhere near as shitty as where I slept back in the Ridge.
“My mom has people who keep it in good order. The flowers are hers, and I help out where I can.” I turned off the car.
“It’s wonderful,” said Maddie, marveling at the house, but that sad tone still lurked under her words.
This couldn’t have been the first time she’d seen a quaint neighborhood house like this. Also, we’d passed grander things on the highway. But maybe there was something special to her about this, something I couldn’t see. After all, she had been held captive for more than a fucking decade.
“Is something wrong with the house?”
She pinched her lips, shaking her head rapidly.
“Maddie, tell me what’s wrong.” I didn’t want to take her in if it would send her into a funk.
Her jaw unhinged, but words didn’t come immediately. Finally, she said, “I never thought I would stay somewhere so nice.”
“What?” I gaped at her. “That’s BS if I ever heard any. You, probably more than most, deserve a mansion or something.”
She blinked at me as though she refused to believe me. “O-okay,” she stammered.
I gave her a few more seconds before I jumped out of the car. Maddie scrambled out after me. She held her baggy clothes around her waist. Hopefully, Mom had something she could borrow. I had no idea where to stop and buy her anything that fit.
I unlocked the front door and held it open for Maddie. “Mom, I’m here. I brought a...”
Fuck, what should I call her?
After a second, I stated, “I brought Maddie.”
Bringing her here was all a rash decision, one that I couldn’t take back now. “Mom!”
She popped out of the living home, holding stacks of old DVDs. At least, they weren’t VHS tapes, but I wouldn’t put that past my mother either.
“Hiya, Morris,” she said. “I was just cleaning up when I saw that you had brought someone home. Hi Maddie. I’m Vivian Cook. Most people call me Vivi.”
I picked up a box and moved it off the couch. “Mom, you’re not supposed to be doing this much housework.”
She flipped her hand at me dismissively. “Don’t mind the mess, Maddie. I was doing some rearranging earlier. It got out of hand, and I didn’t know Morris would be coming by. Or bringing someone. Are you hungry? I can make you something.”
“We ate on the way,” I answered for Maddie, and she held out the bag toward my mother. “Let’s put that in the fridge.”
I guided Maddie into the kitchen. “Mom taught me everything I know about cooking.”
Mom followed us. “I can get that, Morris.”
“No worries, Mom. What can I do to help with this mess?” I asked, before Mom took another breath to speak. She talked a lot, but it probably made up for the fact that I barely heard her speak a word growing up. Not when Daddy was so unpredictable. It sometimes seemed like Mom was making up for lost time now.
“Your house is spotless,” said Maddie. “I’ve never seen anything so clean.”
“Clean?” Vivi scoffed. “It’s a mess. You saw all those boxes, right?”
“Mom,” I warned in a low voice.
“What, Morris? It is a mess. No one should see that,” said Mom. “It should be a crime. I look like I’m living in a dungeon. I should—”
“Mom,” I cut her off, giving her a hard glare.
Mom looked like I had slapped her. My heart rumbled, and my stomach clenched. I was better than Daddy. She knew that, but my voice sounded like his. I probably looked like him too, as if I had stepped out of the past through a time machine. I tried not to look like him, keeping my hair and beard long like he never would.
Still, Mom cowered because I had his eyes and build, and that was just too fucking much.
“I think food would be good for Maddie,” I said. “She only ate one taco, so she’ll probably be hungry by the time you’ve got something whipped up. Mom is one of the best cooks around.”
“Whatever you want,” added Mom. “Eggs Benedict? A souffle? Brownies? A burger? How about a big helping of homemade mac and cheese? Fajitas? I almost burned down the house once making those, so maybe no fajitas. What a mess. But really, what do you want to eat? Just say it, and I’ll make it. Anything.”
Maddie hung her jaw open again, a perfect O. “I, um, I don’t know.”
“Mom,” I said, and she looked between Maddie and me.
“Can I use the bathroom?” asked Maddie.
“Down the hallway,” I said, and Maddie scampered off like a puppy with her tail between her legs. When I heard the door close, I turned to Mom. “Can Maddie stay here? I know we have that open room.”
“Of course, she can stay here,” said Mom, dumping the DVDs into the nearest box. “What’s going on, Morris? This isn’t like you.”
I forced a smile. “To randomly show up?”
“To show up with a girl at your momma’s house.” Mom washed her hands and dried them on her apron. “What’s going on with Maddie?”
I gritted my teeth, but then told her the story. Mom gasped—a lot—but remained mostly silent as I talked about Maddie and her history.
“She just needs somewhere people won’t smother her,” I said. “And that feels comfortable.”
“Absolutely she can stay here,” said Mom, nodding her head fervently. “I can make her whatever she wants. Or she can—”
“Mom, please,” I said, and she lowered her head. “I know your heart is in the right place, but I think she needs time to decompress and to have a shower and to have freedom.”
“Well, I can do that,” said Mom. “I did that with you all the time.”
“You did,” I agreed.
“So tell me what her favorite food is?”
I frowned. “I don’t know.”
With the way she acted with the taco, Maddie probably didn’t even know the answer. She clearly didn’t get many choices when held captive as a sex slave and punching bag.
“I’ll make a bunch of stuff, and she can choose.” Mom walked further into the kitchen and grabbed some pots.
“Can you get her some clothes, too? Help her with the shower if she needs it?”
Mom pulled up her head. “You say this like you’re not staying.”
“I can’t.” I glanced back toward the front door. “I have work in the Ridge.”
She gave me a skeptical look, pinching her lips and eyebrows together. Her look said as much as words did. After all the stupid shit I did today, I deserved a stern talking to, but I was also almost forty years old and didn’t need a tongue lashing from Mommy dearest.
“Don’t start, Mom,” I said, stepping away. “Can you just take care of her? I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going?” asked Maddie. She had walked out of the bathroom as silent as a mouse. I took note of how silent she could be. She probably had to be quiet with Signora back at the mill.
I cleared my throat. “I’m going back to the Ridge.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Maddie.
“No,” I cut her off, and she pouted. I needed to hold my ground on this, though.
She stared up at me, like she might challenge me. Seriously? I guessed I should’ve been happy she was comfortable with me instead of cowering, but I couldn’t have her in the Ridge. She didn’t need to see the shit I or the MC dealt with on the regular.
She certainly didn’t need to be triggered, either. Others might have done unspeakable things to her, but in the way she hugged herself, I could see something innocent.
“You stay here,” I said. “Mom will get you some food and clothes. You can shower too. Mom?”
“Of course, Morris.” She hurried around me and looped an arm around Maddie, basically holding her in a headlock.
Maddie’s brows climbed up her forehead as she looked at Mom and back at me. I gave her, what I hoped was, a reassuring nod. Still, she didn’t pull away or act nearly feral like she had with the head shrink back at the recovery house.
“Don’t worry, Maddie,” Mom said. “I’ve got everything you want. Let’s start with some clothes and a shower. I’ll whip up a feast while Morris is out. Morris, what time do you think you’ll be home?”
I started toward the front door. “I don’t know. I’ll just be back later.”
After slipping out of the house, I fell to my ass on the front steps with my head in my hands, moments of cowering in corners flashing through my mind as I said, “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry, Daddy.”
Daddymeant hate. Daddy meant blood and bruises and cuts and broken bones. I had to get her safe and settled, fed and dressed in decent clothes. Then, I needed to nip this Daddy business in the bud once and for all.