Trucker Daddy (Call Me Daddy)

5. Sienna

CHAPTER 5

Sienna

T he morning light filters through the heavy curtains of the hotel room, casting a warm, golden glow over the bed. It’s the first thing I notice when I open my eyes. The second is Garrett, still fast asleep beside me. The third is how freaking comfortable the mattress is.

And the fourth is how deliciously sore I am between my legs. Oh. Oh.

Now I remember what we did last night, and I feel hot all over.

I lie there, soaking in the opportunity to simply look at Garrett. I’m a totally different person from when I met him less than a week ago, but I think I like myself a lot better. I love the changes Garrett has inspired in me.

I love Garrett. Oh shit.

I LOVE Garrett.

The truth of it hits me like an earthquake. I press a hand to my naked chest unconsciously, considering what this all means. I gave him my virginity, but I think he’s had my heart a lot longer than that.

Carefully, with a sense of awe, I trace the line of his cheekbone, then the curve of his lips, marvelling at how soft they are in contrast to his rough beard.

“You know…” Garrett’s eyes stay closed, voice still thick with sleep even as he reaches up to grab my hand, kissing my fingers. “A man could get used to waking up like this.”

My cheeks heat. “Good morning.”

He keeps hold of my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Sleep good, princess?”

“Like a rock,” I admit. “You wore me out.”

A look of triumph flashes over his face, and he grins. “Hell yeah, I did. But I hope you’re well rested. We’ve got a ways to go today.”

I sigh. “Do we have to leave today?”

“Yes. But we’re almost finished, I promise. Just Roswell, and then I’m headed home.”

I let out a slow breath and fold myself into his arms, our bodies flush together. I hate the idea of leaving our little bubble. “We have a few more hours, right?” Garrett hums in confirmation, and I trail my hands down his bare chest. “Then let’s make it count.”

When we’re finally ready to check out, our happy little bubble hasn’t just popped. It’s obliterated.

He’s found me. Oh God, Charles has found me.

Near the lobby door, there are four men, and I know immediately that they are here for me . All of them are broad, hard-faced, dressed in black, and radiating menace. Their eyes zero in on us, and my stomach twists. One of them steps forward, his arms crossed over his chest, blocking our path.

“Going somewhere?”

Garrett doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. Out. Move.”

The man doesn’t budge, and the others shift closer, forming a wall of muscle between us and the exit.

“I’m not asking twice,” Garrett growls.

The man smirks, but it falters when Garrett takes a step forward, towering over him. There’s something feral in Garrett’s eyes, something that promises violence if they push him any further.

After a tense beat, the man steps aside, his smirk replaced by a scowl. “Your funeral.”

Garrett doesn’t even acknowledge him. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the door. My heart races, and I cling to him, but the moment we step outside, the air turns electric with tension.

Charles is waiting.

He leans against a sleek black car parked near the entrance, his suit crisp and perfectly tailored, blonde hair slicked back, expression a mask of cool arrogance. The sight of him makes my skin crawl.

“Sienna,” he says, his voice smooth as silk. “You’ve had your little adventure. It’s time to come home.”

I stiffen, my feet rooted to the ground. Garrett’s arm tightens around me. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, his eyes flicking over Garrett like he’s an annoyance rather than a threat. “And who might you be? Her knight in shining armor? How quaint.”

Garrett takes a step forward, positioning himself between me and Charles. “You could say that. Now, back off.”

Charles doesn’t move. Instead, he lets out a humorless laugh, gesturing toward his hired muscle, who followed us outside. “Four on one. You like your odds?”

Garrett doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The sheer force of his presence, the way his muscles coil like a predator ready to strike, says it all. It doesn't matter if he likes his odds or not, he’ll still fight.

“Charles,” I manage, my voice shaking but firm. “I’m not going back with you. Just leave me alone.”

“You don’t get to make that decision, Sienna. You belong to me.”

Something in me snaps. “I don’t belong to anyone!”

Charles’s jaw tightens, his calm veneer cracking. “You’re making a mistake,” he hisses. “Do you really think this...this truck driver can protect you? Come with me now, or you’ll regret it.”

Before I can respond, Garrett steps closer still. “She said no. And if you try anything, you’ll regret it.”

Charles flinches just slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But he quickly masks it, signalling to his men. The shift from words to violence happens in a blink. One of the tough guys grabs my arm, yanking me toward Charles’s sleek car.

“Sienna!” Garrett yells.

“Let go of me!” I scream, panic surging through me as the man’s grip tightens.

Garrett moves like lightning. His fist connects with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling back, but the second man is already lunging. Garrett doesn’t hesitate, dodging a swing and delivering a brutal punch to the man’s gut.

The scene unfolds in rapid, chaotic bursts. Garrett is a force of nature—gritty and unrelenting. He blocks a blow with his forearm, counters with a knee to the ribs, and shoves one of the men to the ground with a bone-rattling thud.

Charles stands frozen, his cool arrogance melting into something closer to fear as Garrett grabs the collar of the last man standing and growls, “Touch her again, and I’ll bury you.”

Charles retreats toward the car, his face blood-red with rage and humiliation. “This isn’t over, Sienna!” he yells, climbing into his car with his battered goons.

Furious, I yank the engagement ring off my finger and hurl it at the car with all the strength I can muster. It bounces off the hood with a loud ping just as they peel out of the parking lot.

The moment they’re gone, I whirl around and throw myself into Garrett’s arms. The sob bursts out of me before I can stop them, and I cry into his chest, just like I did that first night we met. He shushes me, stroking my hair, but an iron smell hits my nose.

I pull back, gasping at his bloodied face. “You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit!” The sobs dry up, replaced with determination. “Come on. We’ve still got the room for a few minutes. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Back in our room, I make him sit on the edge of the bed. Grabbing the hotel’s first-aid kit from the bathroom, I kneel in front of him and gently take his hand.

“Hold still,” I whisper, focusing on cleaning the cuts on his knuckles.

Garrett watches me silently.

“You saved me,” I tell him. “Why? That was so damned risky.”

His throat works as he swallows. “Because no one’s going to take you from me.”

I love him, I love him so damned much.

My hand slides up to his cheek, my thumb brushing over the bruise there. “Garrett...”

The kiss is soft at first, but it doesn’t stay that way. His hands slide into my hair, and I lose myself in him, in the safety and intensity of his touch. The words are right there, begging to be said, but I know the time isn’t right. If I say them now, he’ll say it’s because of how charged the moment is.

Reluctantly, I break the kiss, shuddering. “I don’t suppose we have time?—”

Garrett chuckles for the first time since the fight. “Ah, hell, I wish we did, princess, but we can’t stay here now. That fucker could be back any second.”

I swallow hard, knowing he’s right. “Okay…okay. Listen, can you finish checkout and I’ll meet you in the lobby? I need a moment to collect myself.”

“You’ve got five minutes,” he rumbles, stroking my cheek. “I’m not letting you out of my sight longer than that.”

As the door clicks shut behind Garrett, I slump back against the edge of the bed. If Garrett hadn’t been here, I’d have been taken for sure. I can never defend myself like he can, but there is something I can do to maybe turn the tide in our direction.

I pull my phone—the same one I snatched from the garbage the night Garrett tossed it—from its hiding spot in the lining of my purse. Garrett would be furious if he knew I still had it, but I couldn’t bring myself to let it go entirely. It’s the last tether to the life I left behind.

My thumb hovers over the power button. Do I really want to do this? No, I don’t. But I’m going to.

The phone comes to life. I don’t know how I went unnoticed, but when Charles and his goons showed up, instinct had taken over. I hit record, desperate to capture what I could in case things got worse, the phone’s camera barely peeking out of the top of my bag.

Now, watching the scene unfold on the tiny screen, I feel both fury and vindication rise in my chest. Charles’s entitlement. The slimy way he thought he could control me. The violence Garrett endured just to protect me. It’s all here. All the ammunition I need to free Garrett and me both.

I switch over to social media, my fingers flying across the screen as I type out a caption.

"This is the truth about my engagement to Charles Westfield and why I ran. My family arranged a marriage without my consent, and this is how he tried to drag me back. I won’t stay silent anymore.”

Being the heiress to the Carter family fortune, I have a decent presence online as an influencer. This video will reach far enough that Charles will be forced to face some consequences, and maybe my parents will realize how terrible he is for me. With a deep breath, I hit Post . There’s no more hiding behind reputation and money for Charles now.