Chapter 12
Margo
I breathe a sigh of relief when Stryker proceeds Clark into the room.
“What’s going on out there?” I ask them. I had briefly stuck my head out of the office, wanting to find the bathroom, but the noise level from down the hall encouraged me to stay put.
“Your family has arrived,” Clark replies.
“I don’t like what I’m hearing, so I’m going to work with Clear Creek’s police to keep someone watching your grandfather’s house.
The lawyer isn’t shedding too much light on things, other than saying that he has the most recent copy of George’s will and he’ll be filing it with the courts.
I’m going to let you go right now, but I will need to speak to your father when he arrives. ”
“Why don’t you interview him at my house?” Stryker suggests. “That way you can avoid another circus like today.”
“I think that might be best,” Clark concedes. “Miss Tucker, will you be pressing charges against Jason?”
“What?” I ask, surprised, then worried, trying to keep my name out of the system at all costs. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Alright. Let me know if you change your mind or if he comes after you again,” Clark says with a sigh. “I’ll go give him the good news that he’s not getting arrested today.”
*
Stryker’s on the phone with someone from the Kings when we’re taking the turn off that leads to his house, instead of Granddad’s, and that’s when tears start flowing down my cheeks. Looking out the window, I try to will them away before the man at my side notices.
That almost works, until I choke on a sob.
“Let me call you back,” he says, looking frustrated when the person on the line keeps talking. “Come out to my house then.”
Throwing his phone into the backseat, he reaches a hand over, squeezing my thigh. “We’re almost home, Go-Go.”
The calming timber of his voice has me shaking my head. It’s not my home! I want to scream. And even if it was, at the rate I’m going, someone will end up dead there by New Years.
“Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs, constantly shifting his eyes between the road and me.
“Be careful, the turn up here—” I sniffle out the words.
“I’ve been driving this road since I was fourteen,” he says with so much bravado that I have no choice but to pop his balloon.
“And I found you in a ditch the other day.” My snotty nose takes some of the sting out of my dig, but it gets him chuckling and reaching for a napkin in the divider.
“I never got a chance to tell you what happened, did I?” he asks, ignoring the sound of me loudly blowing my nose and I shake my head, looking at him as I continue.
“A bear chased a deer out into the road in front of me.”
“Really?” I narrow my eyes, wondering if he’s just trying to distract me.
“Honestly. I didn’t see the bear until I was in the ditch. I don’t think he appreciated me interrupting his meal.”
“I’ve never seen a bear in the wild,” I tell him. It’s not like I don’t know they’re around here, but thankfully they tend to stay pretty clear of humans.
“Coyotes, and even the occasional wolves, are a bigger problem for me with the chickens out back. You’ll get used to it though,” he tells me as he pulls into his driveway.
I stay quiet, wondering how to address that ‘L’ word he threw at me earlier, even though I like the sound of getting used to Bull’s way of life. There’s a calmness in him that soothes me in a way I’ve never felt around anyone.
Pulling into his garage, he grabs the shopping bags from the back and I’m happy I’ll have some fresh clothes after the day we’ve had.
This time when I shower, Stryker joins me, lathering us both up before sitting on the bench and pulling me down, and patiently letting me take his cock inside of me at my own pace.
He plays with my clit as I bounce up and down, coming on his dick. Standing up, he turns off the water, wrapping us in an oversized towel, his hard length pressing against my stomach.
No sooner has he set me down on his king-sized bed than he’s rolling a condom on and filling me again. “My turn,” he whispers, before nibbling on my breasts and shedding the control he demonstrated in the shower.
The next time I come, my legs are over his shoulders and I’m pleading with him to come with me. His cock thrusts into me like his life depends on it, until he finally reaches down, cupping my cheek and looking into my eyes so intently I’m certain he can see my soul.
Seconds after he throws his head and yells out my name, he shifts my legs before collapsing on top of me. “You’re mine now, Margo.”
With his weight partially balanced on his side, we gently kiss each other’s necks, caressing and comforting each other. Drifting off to sleep, I can’t help comparing Stryker’s possessiveness to David’s.
When David told me we were meant to be together forever, my blood ran cold. Some part of me felt terror the moment I heard him say it.
Yet Stryker’s words make me feel whole and safe.
Our schedule is completely screwy by this point, but when I hear someone knocking on the door some hours later, I slip from the bed and hurriedly pull on one of Stryker’s shirts, thankful that it more than covers my ass.
Thinking that it’s my dad, Stryker is only just stirring from sleep when I run to open the door as the next round of knocking starts.
It takes me a moment to make sense of the man who’s standing on the porch, staring down at me and when the look on his face shifts to amusement, I slam the door and bolt it.
“Christ, Margo! Who is it?” Stryker is balancing himself against the doorframe that leads back to the bedrooms as he pulls up his shorts. “I told you to wait.”
“I thought he was dead,” I scream at him, almost accusing him for my misunderstanding. “Granddad said he was gone and everyone talked about him in the past tense. Gone means ‘dead’, doesn’t it, Stryker?”
He stands there blinking at me in confusion, at least until the knocking starts again and a muffled voice comes through the solid wooden door. “Not in this case, honey. When’d you change the locks, Bull?”
“Dammit,” Stryker growls and for the first time I notice he has a gun in his right hand as he strides toward me, unlocking and opening the door. “Bad fucking timing, Dad.”
“Get rid of the broad,” the monster says, dropping a duffle bag as he steps inside and shuts the door again, barely pausing as he continues toward the kitchen cabinet to grab a glass. “We need to talk.”
“She stays. Margo’s my Ol’ Lady,” Stryker says, catching me around the waist when I growl and head toward the man who I spent so many years afraid of.
“Margo,” Mr. Wells slowly repeats my name before his eyes light up and he takes a longer look at me as he fills his glass with whiskey. “Not George Tucker’s granddaughter? Damn, are you legal now, little girl?”
“Why don’t you go crawl back into whatever grave you climbed out of?” My reply gets a laugh from him as he holds his glass up in a mock salute to me.
“Oh, she doesn’t cower anymore, does she?”
“Dad, knock your shit off. Babe, come on back to our room,” Stryker’s voice varies dramatically as he addresses each of us. “Dad, take my old room. Eli might show up, so behave if he does. I’ll be out in a few.”
I decide to walk a step ahead of Stryker, my hands fisted at my sides, unwilling to give his father the satisfaction of seeing me being pulled along.
“Margo, we never talked about Edward. I never made you think he was dead, did I?” Stryker calmly tries to clarify things as he closes the bedroom door behind him.
“No, I guess I misunderstood, but that doesn’t mean I have to pretend to be happy that he’s not,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Why are you so pissed?” he asks, pulling me into his arms. “Jesus, and you only met him that one time.”
“Because he was your father and he made you clean up the body,” I reply, my voice breaking. “He should have protected you, not made a joke out of murdering that guy.”
With anyone else, I would think the shuddering that rolls the length of Stryker’s body meant they were about to cry. I look up, not sure what to expect, but it sure as hell isn’t the smile he’s giving me.
“You were going to fight him for me?” he confirms, tracing my cheekbone with one of his fingers and I nod; pressing up against his hand until he puts the gun down on the dresser and uses both hands to hold my face before slowly kissing me.
“I think you love me, Margo Tucker,” his soft whisper against my lips sends chills down my back.
“You make sure you’re worth it, Stryker Wells,” I sass right back to him.
After a few more kisses, Stryker untangles himself from me to go speak to his father and I turn, thinking to take the opportunity to dig through yesterday’s purchases since there’s no way I’ll be able to get back to sleep.
Suddenly, the door is flung open, and Stryker sheepishly reaches over to pick up his gun. “Forgot this and it’s better you don’t have access to it right now.”