Chapter 13
thirteen
LULU
I shouldn't have come home. The first time Preston let me inside his home I should have begged to stay.
Like a stupid girl, I used the excuse of muddy clothes to run away from the first person I’d ever felt safe with and the first place I’ve ever felt safe in. Who does that? How immature must I be to run back to the house I was abused in since I was a child?
I had it good with Preston. Had. Past tense because I'm not sure I'll make it back.
Knowing Preston for as little time as I did, didn't matter. He showed me what acceptance and kindness was. My Little called him Daddy and knew he was hers but just like I always do, I stomped on her dreams and shoved her down.
Now I'm sure I'll never get to experience the joys and contentment of being my true self. Preston has so many more toys for me to explore. He has so many more cuddles to give, I just know it.
I may not have ever been good for him, but darn did I want to try. He listens to me even in my silence.
Sucking in a shuddering breath, I vow to myself that if I make it out of here alive, I'll do everything in my power to ensure Daddy has no reason to throw me away.
I'll be the best woman and Little he could imagine.
Sure, I'll be uncomfortable and scared sometimes, but it will all be worth it for him to smile at me and pull me close.
Maybe he'll let my Little out to play a few times a week. It won't really be enough, but I’ll be grateful no matter what.
"HEY! I'm fuckin' talking to you!"
Chills race down my arms even as I tuck my muddy sweater around me tighter. A small whimper escapes, but the guy in the leather jacket rushes toward me, leaving my father's dead body behind.
My father is dead. The man who beat me is lying motionless on the ground. My abuser and captor has a bullet in his forehead.
Pain spears my forearm as the stranger wraps his bloody hand around it. "Listen to me when I'm talking to you, bitch!"
My throat closes over and I feel like my eyes are about to pop out of my head. What in the world is happening? Am I dreaming? The monster I grew up with is actually dead?
I can see the trail of blood his body has left behind. His chest isn't rising or falling. My father is really dead.
The view of his body is taken away by the scary man who won't let go of me.
His face is red, and his eyes are so sharp I feel like he's trying to stab me with a glare.
The energy radiating off of this guy can only be described as it is.
.. he was literally caught dragging a dead body and I'm the one who saw.
"Dagger? What the fuck are you—LET HER GO!" Suddenly the murderous man is wrenched away from me and I'm left scrambling to stay upright.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," a new man says. He's larger and much hairier than the first one. It's then I realize I'm sobbing on my hands and knees. I didn't catch myself. Daddy would have caught me.
"Lucinda, I need you to take a breath for me, okay?"
The gasp that shoves itself down my throat makes me choke. "How-how-how—" I'm incapable of speech. My father was murdered. I thought I was about to die. And now I'm all but being forced to breathe?
"Okay, yeah. I would be freaking out too," the big man mutters and kneels in front of me.
His proximity scares me so much I fly back and scramble away.
"Okay. I'll stick to the basics. Your father owed my club a lot of money.
When he offered you, his tiny virgin daughter Lucinda, as payment, he signed his death warrant. "
I'm going to be sick. I knew he owed a lot of people money. I knew that and yet I never thought he would try to use me to pay his debts.
Something close to pity flashes in the man’s face. "We don't deal in women and children. Hell, not even innocent men. You get me?"
"N-no." I'm losing it. Utterly losing it. Am I going to throw up?
He sighs. "I'm the president of a motorcycle club, sugar. And you are hundred percent safe with us, got me?"
No. No I don't got you.
He must notice my attention fly to the man who scared me half to death. "He will be taken care of. Nobody in my club lays their hand on you or any other innocent."
The clear rules he has and the fact that he saved me from that man, and the monster who tried thousands of times to break me, sends me close to Little space.
"I want my Daddy."
His beard moves with the twist of his lips and his big eyebrows twitch with a frown. "Sugar, I killed your dad. The shit he said he did to you to break you down..."
When he trails off at my head shake, I think there's hope. "No. My Daddy." My words come out pouty and I stick my thumb in my mouth and suck gently.
Recognition flares in his eyes, surprising the Big me and exciting Little me. "Oh, I see. Alright, little sugar. Are you okay to get back in your truck and head home to your Daddy? I would drive you but we need to get the fu-butt out of here."
I don't dare look at the dead body he's pointing at. My wits are about me enough to know that I could seriously traumatize my vulnerable self.
"I drive to Daddy," I whisper, suddenly feeling anxious to get out of here. There's nothing here for me anymore.
The big man studies me for a moment. "Alright, young lady. If you ever need me, you shout, okay? I'm the president of Falcons Cry MC. You can call me Pres."
I snort and double over in a fit of hysterical giggles. The name I was so terrified of when I met my Daddy! Oh my goodness. Too cheesy! Too good to be true.
"Alright, I'm going to try not to be offended," Pres mumbles and it's then I realize he's holding me up and walking me to my truck. "You get home safe now, little sunshine," he demands right before closing my driver’s side door.
The laughter ends immediately, and he waves goodbye. Sunshine, he called me. Nothing, and I mean nothing about me is sunshine. That's the reason my mom was so sad when she died. I couldn't make her smile. She died with a frown on her face.
I didn't think I'd ever make it back to Preston, but the vow still rings loudly in my head. I'll make sure to be the best I can be for Daddy.
It's so super unfortunate that I can already feel the anxiety and trauma of seeing my father's dead body changing my psyche... and feel the truck stutter to a stop.
I'm not a good enough Little for Daddy.