Madison
The door shuts with a resounding click behind him. My body is still trembling when I rise to my feet. My scalp stings from his harsh treatment, but he hasn’t scared me. He’s only made me want to taunt him more, to see just how far he’ll go.
I’ve spent my life around men like him. The danger that seems to emanate from him is the same menace I see in the eyes of the men my father has working for him. They’ve seen things that would make most cringe. They’ve also probably done things that would scare away even the bravest of souls.
The only difference between them and Callan is that he wants me. Even in the anger-filled words he spewed at me, there was an inflection of want in his voice that made my heart thud against my ribs.
I pull the black dress up and over my shoulders, allowing my gaze to drink in the room where he was waiting on the brunette I saw with him at the bar. My choice to come here was my own, to see if he’d be here. When I walked in and ordered my drink, I found a table in the corner where I could watch everyone who walked in. I was about to leave when he sauntered into the club.
As I make my way by the bar toward the exit, I notice the woman he sat with earlier is still there, reaching for her pink drink. I’m tempted to talk to her, to ask about him, but I don’t. Instead, I focus on leaving the club and going back home.
“He wants you.” Her voice comes from behind me as I pass by, causing me to whip my head toward her.
“What?”
“Callan.” She says his name as if she’s far too familiar with him, which has jealousy trickling through me. “He has this thing for you. He let it slip one night while he was fucking me.” Her words slice through me, and I wonder just how much she’s learned about me.
“He let it slip?”
“Your name. He said your name, and I knew exactly who you were. He’s been in here for six long months, and you’re the only woman he looks at.”
I’ve never been one of those girls whom others were jealous of. I was also never one of the popular girls, so for this woman to look at me with envy in her gaze, I can’t help but feel like I have the upper hand.
It’s no secret I want Callan. I want to knock him down to earth. I want him to feel. He’s cold, closed off from everything around him, and I have a feeling the only love he’s ever offered is to his family.
“Thank you.” I smile at her, noting the way she regards me. Warily. As if I’m a threat to her. Granted, I could be. She would be easy to take down. Even though she looks far older than I am, I know I’m stronger physically. But deep down, I’m unsure if I can handle an emotional fight.
I turn and leave her at the bar, mulling the words she uttered in my mind. There’s a chilly breeze when I step out of the club. The night is only lit by the business sign and the full moon in the sky.
“Madison Parker.” A voice, low and gravelly, comes from behind me causing me to spin on my heel.
“Who are you?” I question, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gestures to me to head to my car, which is parked in the far corner of the lot, and he follows me there. I should’ve parked closer to the door where the security guards could see me, but I didn’t want Callan to see me if I’d have arrived the same time he did. When I pull open the driver’s door, the man who I’ve only seen once before places his large meaty hand on the window.
“Don’t underestimate my boss's reach, girl,” he hisses. “Daddy is not safe on his perch.” His threat is clear.
“What do you want?”
“You know exactly what the man who pays my wages wants, Ms. Parker. Boss man is adamant to get exactly what your daddy has. A position on the senate. We need you to tell us about where your father is going, who he’s meeting with, and we will make sure you don’t come to any harm. If you don’t help us, well . . .” His smirk is evil, almost demented. “I’ll have to take it violently. And make no mistake, I’d enjoy it. There’s a folder in your father’s office that my boss needs. It contains information about Mr. Brockovich. It needs to be in my hands when I see you again. You have forty-eight hours.”
He spins on his heel, and I watch him disappear into the darkness. When I reach for the car door, I notice my hand shaking violently. I should call my dad and tell him about this, but if I do, he could get hurt.
Blackmail is not what I’d envisioned my father to be involved in. If I can find out who this boss man is, perhaps I can talk to him, make him see reason. But even as I think it, I know it’s a lie. Men like that don’t believe in reason. I can’t tell anyone. He’ll hurt me and my dad. As much as he isn’t the perfect parent, I still love him. Doesn’t every daughter love their dad no matter what?
I slip into the driver’s seat and start the engine. I’m still shaking, my body trembling with fear of what the man wants. After the experience inside the club, and the one only moments ago, I feel drained. Exhausted with emotion racing through me at a million miles a second.
Sighing, I turn on the radio, hoping the music will take my mind off the evening's events. I make my way home slowly as shadows dance along the road. The large gates of our property slide open with a creak of metal, beckoning me into the safety of the mansion. Two security men sit on either side of the fence, offering me a nod in greeting as I inch my way up the long driveway.
I don’t know how I’m going to get into my father’s study. He’s always kept it locked. Off limits. With the time limit, I know I have to try something to get in there. He leaves in a few days on his trip, so I’ll need to get in there while he’s in the house, and that in itself is not easy.
I exit the car and make my way to the door, opening it gently then stepping over the threshold. Silence greets me, but I know he’s somewhere. I toe off my shoes in the foyer and pad silently toward his office, which sits at the back of the house. Hidden in the murky depths of the large mansion.
As soon as I reach the door, I notice it’s ajar, but there’s a light on inside, which means he’s working.
“Yes.” His deep voice barrels through me, startling me. “He’ll never fucking get it,” my father snarls angrily. “That asshole will die before he even thinks about getting his hands on the information. I’ll make sure of it. I’m interviewing a prospective bodyguard for her tomorrow. Someone I know will keep her safe.”
He’s silent for a long while, and I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I can’t help it.
“Yes, he’s dangerous, but with the right amount of money, he will do anything to keep my daughter safe. And if he doesn’t, he’ll join the last asshole in a grave.”
Racing from the door, I speed up the stairs and into my room. My lungs are pulling in air painfully. I knew my father could be cold and heartless, but this is new. Killing people? It’s as if I don’t know the man who raised me.
My mind is awash with vivid images of my father having people killed as I slip under the covers of my bed moments later. My phone vibrates on the pillow beside me, lighting up the bedroom in a golden glow.
When I unlock the device, I find a message from Callan.
Tomorrow you will scream. I hope you’re ready for it.
I don’t respond. His words only elicit a flurry of want in my stomach. I close my eyes and smile as I focus on him rather than my father being a killer.