After Camden left to go visit his brothers, I’ve felt brittle, and trying not to be clingy. It’s hard, though. I’ve grown quite addicted to him. Spending every waking moment with him has been incredibly refreshing. I feel like I’ve crawled out of the fog that is my life and stepped into a new world. A warm world filled with laughter, salt water, and orgasms.

But this afternoon was a cold slap of reality.

He was a glimpse of the guy who stood in Mateo’s kitchen that day a few weeks ago and turned my world upside down. Sure, I’d seen him around. Being engaged to Mateo, it was inevitable. But that had been the first time he’d actually entered my life and caused a stir. He made me notice him. Forced me to. And then I learned it was all for a reason.

I still don’t know that reason.

Yet.

I pull into Dad’s driveway and groan to see his three best friends’ cars parked out front. The last thing I want to do is see them, but I need to talk to Dad. I park my car and get out, my flip flops slapping the pavement. It feels rebellious to be wearing a summer dress rather than a suit and heels. Camden makes me brave. He urges me out of my shell.

Slipping inside the house, I walk through on a hunt for Dad. Voices carry from the living room, and before I reach the space, I listen.

“I’ll figure something out,” Dad snaps. “Don’t I always? Just calm the fuck down.”

Tension crackles in the air. I backpedal and head toward his office to wait. Like I used to do when I was a kid, I sit in his leather desk chair and spin around. But, unlike when I was a little girl, I stop and do a little snooping. I don’t know his password to his computer, but do know where he hides his desk key. Once I grab it from under the keyboard, I open the locked drawers. I start thumbing through files. Most are normal financial records. But the file in the very back is labeled Project GB. I yank the folder out, only to find it empty. Dammit.

Someone clears their throat from the doorway, and I jerk to my feet. Senator John Ham glowers at me from the door. His eyes are bloodshot from drinking, and I can practically smell the booze from here.

“Oh, hey,” I squeak out. “Just looking for my dad.”

He stalks over to me and seizes my neck with his big hand, shocking me. “You’re looking through his shit.” His rage can be felt in the way he tightens his grip and cuts off my airway. I claw my fingers at his wrist to no avail.

“Ham,” Dad barks from behind him. “What the fuck?”

John shakes me in his grip. “She’s going through your shit! Of all times!”

“Put her down,” Dad snaps at his friend.

John releases me and staggers away. Peter, the normally flirty judge, walks in scowling. Roger Bowers, the police commissioner, follows him, looking stressed. I rush over to my dad and hug him. My throat hurts, but at least he’ll protect me from his drunk friends.

“What were you doing?” Dad demands.

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me. “W-What?”

Gripping my shoulders, he pushes me at arms’ length and nods to the desk. “You were going through my stuff. Why?”

“I know,” I hiss. I don’t really, but I want to see his reaction.

His eyes narrow. “I don’t have time for your games, Poppy.”

“She knows?” Peter asks. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

I jerk from my dad’s grip and point at him. “I know everything. I know what you did to Camden. I know it all.”

The room stills for a moment, then John pulls a gun.

I scream out in horror, frozen in place.

“She doesn’t know shit, asshole,” he roars. “Peter, get him out of here. She’s bluffing, and he’s too drunk for this. Take him home and I’ll clean up our mess.”

Peter takes the gun from John and guides his drunk ass from the office.

“I’m not lying. How could you?” I demand, now that the room is safe from drunks with weapons. “I know all about Project GB.”

Dad’s face turns red, and he radiates fury. “You don’t know anything about Project Good Boy, child.”

“I do,” I reply, my argument quickly becoming weak. Tears form in my eyes. “It’s awful.” Lies. I have no idea. “And I know you hurt Camden.”

Dad’s nostrils flare. “You’re lying. Do you remember what would happen when you’d lie to me as a girl?”

I take a step back. “You’d whip me. I’m a grown ass woman, Dad. You can’t whip me. What you can do is talk to me! Tell me what’s going on. I want to know what Project Good Boy is and how it involves Camden.”

Dad and Roger exchange hate-filled glares.

“I’m sleeping with him,” I tell him boldly.

This sets him off. He charges over to me and slaps me. I’m so shocked, all I can do is hold my cheek and gape at him. The man before me isn’t my father. He’s angry and scary.

“Hold her hands,” Dad barks at Roger as he advances on me.

“Get away from me!” I shriek, turning to try to escape. There’s nowhere to go because his massive desk blocks my exit.

“When you lie, you get a spanking. When you try to manipulate your father, you get a spanking. When you sleep with a motherfucking Pearson, you get a spanking,” Dad roars.

He pushes me down over the desk, and Roger wrenches my wrists behind my back, locking them in place. I scream and squirm as terror rises up inside me. I haven’t been whipped since I was fourteen years old and Dad caught me making out with a boy. He bent me right over his lap, yanked down my panties, and whipped me with his belt. I’d been so horrified and embarrassed, I promised I’d never make him upset with me again.

And now, here I am, nearly thirty years old, about to get a spanking.

“Let me go!” I scream. “I’ll call the cops!”

Roger laughs at this. Of course he does. The police commissioner has connections. The police won’t do anything.

Dad shoves my dress up and roughly pulls my panties down my thighs. This is even more embarrassing than when I was fourteen. I hear his belt unbuckle, and then a swish as he yanks it from the loops.

“You don’t know anything, Poppy,” Dad snarls. “And when I’m done, you’ll walk out of here and never speak a word of any of this. Do you understand me?”

Before I can answer, the leather lashes across my ass. I howl in pain and wriggle to no avail.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

A loud, ugly sob rings out in the air as he beats me.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“I think that’s enough,” Roger barks out, saving me from further abuse.

Dad throws his belt to the floor and stalks off. “Get her decent and out of my house.”

Roger releases me, but I’m too weak to move. I’m sobbing so hard, I feel like I might throw up. His palm caresses over my ass cheeks, and I flinch at the pain. Then his fingers brush up my thighs as he slides my panties back into place.

“Your father loves you,” Roger says softly. His finger boldly touches my pussy between my legs over my panties. “We all do. Just be a good girl and let us look after you.”

He then drags my dress back down over my ass and helps me stand. My knees buckle, and he pulls me to his chest. I cling to his shirt for fear of hitting the floor. Tears stream down my face and drip from my jaw, soaking us both.

“Calm down, Poppy,” he coos. “He is looking out for you. Trust me. If he didn’t, he’d have let John have his way. Who the hell knows what John would have done? He’s always had a thing for you, but he looked like he wanted to kill you.” He kisses my head. “You’re safe as long as you just stop trying to pry into your father’s business.”

He pulls away slightly and grips my chin, tilting my face up. I try to move my head, but he’s stronger. His lips press to mine, and I manage to push him away.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss through my tears. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He rushes me, no longer trying to play the nice guy, and pushes me against the wall. His meaty hand gropes my breast as he glowers at me. “None of this happened. You walk out that door and pretend none of it happened. Then you can continue fucking that piece of shit if you want. You can go on to become lieutenant governor. Your whole life continues as planned. Do you understand me?”

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

He grinds his laughable erection against my thigh. “If I have to in order to make you understand how goddamn serious I am, I will. You are fair game now. Tread carefully.”

I freeze in his grip. “Please let me go.”

“Tell me what I need to hear.”

“I know nothing,” I whisper. “I saw nothing. I heard nothing.”

He tries to kiss me again, and I go limp in his grip. Finally, he releases me. “Good girl.”