Chapter Nine
Thirty minutes later, still sat alone and with a plate full of food, my conviction was wearing thin.
I kept turning it all over in my mind, the realization that each time she had shown genuine pain, I had been at the heart of it.
Like when my stepfather had ridiculed me, when he had belittled me, and when he had asked me to dance to his tune in aid of his business plans.
But most of all, when he had made it clear that Daniel and I had spent the night together, that had really got to her.
And what of that?
Was it the pain of jealousy? Or was it the realization that I wasn’t who she thought me to be and she regretted what we had shared?
And why the hell did I care so much? Why did I want to risk my heart to someone who was as morally suspect as she?
I grimaced and shoved the plate away. I was going round in circles, getting nowhere.
The movement of the door opening made my heart skip — Emma?
My eyes shot eagerly to the doorway, only to find Lily stepping in. The surge of disappointment would have floored me if not for my chair.
“Sorry, Miss Sawyer, I was coming to clear the plates away. I didn’t think anyone was still eating.”
“We’re not,” I said, pushing back from the table and offering her a small smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “Please carry on, I’m going to call it a night anyway.”
Before Lily’s perceptive nature forced an interrogation I didn’t feel strong enough to evade, I fled the room. I had just started to climb the stairs when Dad’s study door opened and out came Tom with Mick close behind.
My gut lurched. There really was only one reason Dad would be speaking to Mick at this time of night.
I caught Mick’s eye only to have him look immediately away, his avoidance even more telling than the grim expression he bore.
Hands trembling, I reached out for the balustrade and started up the stairs once more.
“Abigail.”
My foot faltered over the step, my stepfather’s drawn out delivery of my name turning my blood to ice.
I swallowed and paused to look at him over my shoulder. He stood in the study entrance, his face hard like granite, hands fisted at his sides.
“Daddy?”
My voice sounded so small, I couldn’t tell if he’d actually heard it, not that it mattered, he knew he had my attention.
“Come here,” he commanded, stepping aside so that his body now flanked the doorway, showing me in no uncertain terms that I was to join him in the study.
My stomach twisted with fear. “I’m tired, can it wait until tomorrow?” I tried, desperation to flee overwhelming any sense of obedience.
“No, Abi.” His eyes shot me down. “This will not wait.”
I gave the upper floor a fleeting covetous glance before turning on Jello-like legs and descending the staircase.
There was no choice, really. If I didn’t come willingly, I had no doubt he would drag me there.
“Good to see there is some respect left in you,” he barked as I passed.
I had to clamp my jaw shut to stop the trembling in my body giving way to the chattering of my teeth. His rage permeated off him, coming through in waves with each seething breath he took.
Fear kept my eyes fixed ahead as I walked slowly into the room, not halting until my legs pressed up against the edge of his desk. Behind me I heard the door close, followed by the sickening click of the lock and then the steady clip of his heel as he approached.
Still I couldn’t look back at him.
He didn’t speak until he came up alongside me. “You must think me a fool, dear child,” he said, his tone menacingly low as he leaned across me to toss his cell to the desk, his body brushing mine, his unmistakable cologne filling my flared nostrils as I struggled for air.
I tried to speak but as soon as my jaw slackened, my teeth vibrated. I had seen him this mad before, of course I had, and on the occasions it had been directed at me, the result had left me unable to sit for a week.
I knew now was going to be no different.
“Nothing to say?” he asked, eying me over his hands as he worked to unbutton the cuff on one shirtsleeve, then the other.
My body swayed with my oxygen-starved brain and I reached for the stability of the desk, my nails biting painfully into the wooden surface.
“Nothing at all?” He gave a short derisive laugh. “Really, the least you could bloody well do is look at me when I address you!”
His words forced my eyes to his, and I had to swallow the squirming sound that worked its way up my throat. To whimper would only incite further malice from him, of that I had no doubt.
“Better,” he said with genuine satisfaction, his eyes holding mine momentarily before breaking off to tend to the meticulous folding back of his shirtsleeves.
I watched his hands as they overlapped the cloth in neat, uniform sections, not stopping until both sleeves fell the exact same distance down his arms, resting a cuff’s breadth below the elbow.
It was a step I had come to recognize well.
“Now let me explain something to you, child,” he said, starting to pace to the left of me, his eyes flicking between me and the back of his study where I could hear the crackle of a fire alight in the grate and feel its unsavory heat burning into my back.
“You are in this house, because I let you be here, I provide you with every luxury a girl of your age could aspire to and in exchange for that I expect — no, I demand — your undivided loyalty and total obedience. This is fair, is it not?”
I nodded, the movement both jarring and unnatural.
“So you wholeheartedly agree?”
Again, I nodded.
“Then tell me, Abigail, do you think you have held up your end of the deal?”
I didn’t nod, I shook, fear sending my body trembling from head to foot.
“Well, answer me!” he demanded, his body rounding on me, his glare penetrating my guilt-ridden mind and forcing my eyes downward. My cheeks flamed with the memory of everything Emma and I had done, and the knowledge that he knew it all. That there was no way back now.
Not for me.
Not for Emma.
“At least you have the decency to actually look ashamed of what you have done,” he continued, his hands flexing notably at his sides. “You will understand, therefore, that I cannot let this go unpunished, that you need to pay for what you have done?”
Again, I nodded, the tears stinging at my eyes nothing compared to what there would be seconds from now.
“Good, your compliance makes this easier all round,” he stated smoothly, his anger ebbing now that he had me where he wanted me. “Take down your underwear.”
Even though I knew it was coming, my eyes still flicked pleadingly to his, my immobility giving way to desperation as I prayed on the softening of his mood. “Please, Daddy, I didn’t mean for anything to happen—”
“Too late for that, Abi,” he said, cutting me off. “Perhaps you should have thought about the repercussions before testing out your new dykedom with my fiancée, of all people.”
The harsh truth of his words sliced through my racing thoughts, stripping me of any possible reply. Nothing I could say or do was going to make this any better.
“Do it, Abi!” he ordered, his temper flaring with his impatience as he leaned toward me, his hands fisting into the tabletop. “If you don’t do it, I will simply do it for you—”
I tensed as he pushed himself away from the desk and made a move for me just as an unidentifiable noise reared up from the direction of the fireplace.
I couldn’t make out what it was but it was enough to make him stop and draw away, for that I was grateful.
“For Christ’s sake!” he muttered as he stalked off in its direction, leaving me frozen to the spot and unable to turn to look. I heard him rustling with something and then all was quiet again, the only sound the strike of his shoes as he neared me once more.
Before he could even touch me, I worked my panties down to my ankles and righted myself, thankful for the momentary protection of the full-length skirt.
“Glad to see you’ve seen sense,” he said, pausing directly behind me, his voice reverberating through me with its proximity and my heightened state. “Now bend over.”
I placed my hands upon the polished wood of the desk and slid them forward, bending my body dutifully at the hip as I went. I didn’t rush the move, a ridiculous attempt at prolonging the inevitable I realized.
But then he didn’t rush me either, not now that he had me doing as he asked.
“All the way, Abi, you know the drill.”
I didn’t respond, I knew how he wanted me.
I lowered my upper body until it was planted to the desk, my head resting on its side against the cool surface, my rear forced into a proffered position for his awaiting hand.
“That’s a good girl, now raise your skirt.”
Clamping my eyes shut, I did as he asked, my hands gathering up the skirt on either side of me until it rested entirely at the base of my back. Not even the heat of the fire was enough to take away the sudden draft across my naked behind, and I could feel my skin prickling in protest.
“Widen them,” he commanded, nudging at my feet with his own.
I shuffled them but it wasn’t enough. He continued to kick at my feet until the fabric of my white lace panties pulled taut around my ankles.
“Better,” he said, backing off.
I tried to banish the image from my mind of him above me, surveying my submissive form, getting me just so.
I tried to think of something else, of happier times, anything to transport myself elsewhere to help me get through this but his voice kept dragging me back.
“So what say you, Abi, shall I make it twenty-two to cover each of your sinful years in my presence?”
I bit into my lip, and squeezed my eyes tight, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing a response.
“Answer me,” he demanded, his hands shoving away my own so that he could take hold of my dress and shove it higher up my back.