So he’d put Nan into care and then just left?
“Hope to God she hasn’t taken anything of value. Wouldn’t put it past her with her background.”
“Her background?” Macca asked.
“Father’s never worked a day in his life. Been arrested multiple times. I told Mum not to hire her. Told her she’d regret it. But you know what your grandmother was like when she got an idea in her head. She thought the girl needed saving. I figured I’d be able to kick her out the first time she messed up, but either she’s smarter than I gave her credit for or she’s kept her nose clean. Still, time for her free ride to stop. Get rid of her.”
“Nan isn’t dead yet,” he growled at the other man. His father didn’t even have the good grace to look apologetic.
Wouldn’t he be proud if he knew that Macca had already kicked Gigi out?
And that made him feel even worse. Was he becoming like his father?
Lord, he hoped not. He had to make this mistake right. First thing was to find Gigi and apologize.
* * *
Christ, where was she?
Macca tapped his finger against his cell phone. He’d searched through his grandmother’s stuff for any sort of contact details for Gigi and found nothing. It was late afternoon and he was no closer to finding her.
If he could find a last name, he could at least have Corbin look into her.
Wait. If she lived here then there might be something in the room where she was staying. He got up and wandered down to the bedrooms. He opened up the bedroom where he’d stayed as a kid. Christ, it looked just the same as when he’d left at seventeen. He had to smile as he saw the photos sitting on the bookcase. Pictures of him, his grandmother and mother. Nan had been closer to her daughter-in-law than her own son. He shut the door then moved down the corridor to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall.
Opening it, he instantly knew it was hers. The scent of sweet peas lingered in the air, reminding him of her. The room was clean and tidy without much stuff. The bed was neatly made, one of his grandmother’s afghan rugs served as a comforter. Lying against the pillow, in a place of pride, was a worn stuffed koala bear.
That gave him pause. But lots of grown women had stuffed toys they kept from their childhood. It didn’t mean anything. He glanced around. It was the only toy in sight. It was probably just something special she’d kept. She didn’t seem very old, maybe twenty at the most.
He felt bad for searching through her stuff but he needed to find her. Urgency beat at him. He moved to the closet first. He was shocked to find how little stuff was in there. One summer dress. A pair of jeans. A pair of sandals and sneakers. That was it.
He swallowed heavily. Fuck. Had he kicked someone out who had nothing? What a fucking asshole. He moved to the dresser. Five pairs of panties. Three t-shirts. Two pairs of shorts. How the hell did someone live with only this much clothing? Even though it was hot now, it grew cooler in winter, especially once you were acclimatized. Why didn’t she have a sweater at least?
He muttered under his breath as he moved to the bedside drawers. Opening one, he drew out a notebook. On the front was a unicorn. It was sparkly, glittery, exactly what he’d expect a little girl to own. He opened it up.
Bingo.
On the inside cover, scrawled in very messy handwriting, was a warning.
Property of Georgina Rose Raymond.
Stay out or die a horrible death involving slimy snakes and enormous, creepy spiders.
He grinned. How long had she owned this? And who did she think she had to warn against peeking inside? A horrible death involving snakes and spiders? He opened up the first page. It was a deep intrusion of privacy, but he hoped to find some more clues. He was surprised to find the first entry was only from two and a half years ago. Was she younger than he thought?
A sick feeling developed in his stomach. He read the entry and that sick feeling grew until he thought he might well vomit.
Daddy lost big at the races today. All the money we were supposed to use for food and the bills is gone. He got mad when there was no dinner on the table. I tried to explain. But he wouldn’t listen. This time, he hit me on the face. I had to take time off work until the swelling went down and I could cover the bruise with make-up.
This time? He hit her on the face? Macca’s hands shook as he stared down at the short entry. He noted the next entry was on the same page and just as short. She was obviously trying to make the journal last as long as possible.
He closed his eyes briefly. Jesus. Jesus.
How had his grandmother met Gigi? His father called her a charity case. Had her grandmother known that her father beat her? Was that why she’d moved Gigi in here?
Fuck.
He looked at the last entry. It was dated six days ago.
Penny is very ill. Her family have put her in hospice care. I know what that means but I don’t want to think about it. What will I do without her? She’s the only person in this world who cares about me. I love her. I don’t want to lose her. I’m so scared.
Fuck him. God damn it. He’d sent a lost, scared girl out into the world without even the meager belongings in this room and he had no idea where to find her. Shit. With fingers that trembled he sent off a text to Corbin, uncaring about the time difference. His friend kept odd hours anyway. If anyone could find her, Corbin could. Although he wasn’t giving him much to go on. Just a name and approximate age.
He ran his hand down his face. He couldn’t sit around and wait for Corbin to get back to him. But what could he do? A headache thumped in his temples and he strode across the hall into the bathroom. He pulled open the door of the medicine cabinet to grab some painkillers. The bottles in there caught his eye.
The name printed on the label wasn’t the one he’d expected. Instead of his grandmother’s name, it was Gigi’s. What the hell? There were several bottles here. He didn’t recognize the names of the drugs. He took photos of each of the labels, though. Maybe this would help Corbin.
There was a doctor’s name on the labels as well. Maybe he could look him up.
He brought up Google on his phone and tapped in the name. A rheumatologist? Why would she need to see that kind of doctor? Did she have arthritis? Fuck. He had no clue. He grabbed a couple of painkillers and downed them. What he did need to do was find her. He was going to start calling some of the motels. Maybe he’d get lucky.
3
A loud noise woke her. But her eyelids were just so heavy. She was tired. And sore. Her joints ached. She was hot and sticky. She whimpered in distress. She wished someone would turn the air conditioning on.
Voices reached her, they sounded loud. Another whimper escaped. Was that her dad? Please don’t let her be in trouble. She didn’t want any trouble.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” a woman’s voice said.
“I just want to make sure. . .oh fuck!”
A small cry of alarm escaped her at the sound of his voice. What was he doing here? Had he brought the police?
She forced her eyes open, staring up blurrily into his gorgeous face. Too bad he was such a jerk.
“I’m sorry I was a jerk, baby girl. I haven’t handled these last past few days since I found out Nan was sick all that well.”
“Whoops. Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“It’s all right.” He sat on the bed, facing her. “You have the right to call me all sorts of names after how I treated you.”
“Jerk. Ass head. Butt face,” she mumbled. “Pimple bum.”
“Okay, it seems you two do know each other,” an amused voice said. She turned her head slowly to see the lady from the reception desk standing behind Macca.
She gave her a concerned look. “Oh, love, you don’t look well. I knew I should have taken you to the hospital.”
“Why didn’t you?” Macca snapped.
Gigi reached out and touched his hand. “Not her fault. I insisted.”
“She said it was just a few scrapes a
nd a sprained ankle,” the woman said. “If I’d known she was ill, I would have tried harder. What do you think is wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Macca murmured. “How did you get these scrapes, sweet pea? This one looks like it’s still bleeding.” He tugged at the bandage she’d fastened around her right knee. “This should have already stopped. She had these injuries when she arrived?”
“Yes, that was about ten-thirty this morning. Why is it still bleeding? What’s the rash on her face?”
Gigi groaned. She was definitely having a flare up.
A large, cool hand was placed over her forehead. “She’s got a fever. Gigi, I’m going to pick you up, all right? I need to get you to the hospital.”
“No. No hospital.”
Macca turned to the woman and handed up his keys. “Could you go get my car and bring it around? It’s a white Ford. A rental.”
“Sure.” Kate raced out.
“I’m okay,” Gigi protested. “I don’t want to go to hospital.”
Macca brushed her hair back off her face. “Baby girl, you’re very sick. You need medical help.”
“N-no, I’m not. It’s a flare-up.”
He frowned. “A flare-up.”
“I-I have Lupus.” She didn’t know why she hated telling people. Mostly they look at her in confusion, having no idea what she was talking about. Then if she explained, they gave her looks of pity or worse, disbelief. Many of them tried to tell her it had to be in her head, even when she explained it was a recognized disease.
“Lupus? Okay. I don’t know anything about it. Is that why you have all those medicines that I found at my grandmother’s house.”
“Y-yes, did you bring them?”
“No.”
Despair hit her. Shoot. She was going to have to get new prescriptions for everything, which meant she’d probably have to visit her doctor since she’d skipped the last visit. Which meant taking several buses to get there. . .and everything just seemed so overwhelming right now.
“Hey, sweet pea. Hush. Don’t cry. I didn’t bring them because I’m bringing you back with me to my nan’s place. I’m so sorry about this morning. I should have given you a chance to talk instead of just yelling at you the way I did. That was inexcusable. I promise it won’t happen again.”
She’d heard that before. How many times had her father promised that he would never do something again?
“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’ll prove that you can. I’m going to help you.”
“You. . .you don’t have to,” she said in a husky voice. “I can’t continue to live there. I just. . .I’d be grateful for my medicine and stuff.”
To her shock, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “God, you’re burning up, baby. Gigi, I’m taking you to the hospital. I’m not leaving you here. I’m going to help you. There’s no point in arguing. My mind is made up.”
She frowned. “Do people usually argue with you?” He seemed the type of guy who was used to getting his own way.
“Never.” He grinned at her. Damn. So cute.
He chuckled. “Cute, huh? Glad you think so.”
“Don’t go getting a big head,” she muttered. “I still think you’re a pimple bum.”
“I know. This pimple bum has a lot to make up to you. Starting now.”
“Your car is out front,” Kate said. Gigi felt bad about all the extra work she’d been for her.
“You’ve been no work at all, love,” Kate told her. “I just wish I forced you to get help earlier.”
“Right, Gigi, I’m going to carry you out to my car. Is there anything you need to take with you?”
“I. . .my backpack.”
“I’ll pack it up for you,” Kate offered, moving around the room.
Macca leaned in so his mouth was next to her ear. “Do you need to go potty before we leave?”
She gaped at him. He did not just say that to her!
“Well, little one? Do you need me to take you to the potty?” he murmured.
“I’m not two,” she protested.
“No?” He gave her a weird look. “You can’t go by yourself. I doubt you can even get off the bed yourself. So?”
“N-no.” Please Lord, swallow me up now.
He frowned slightly. “Probably dehydrated, I’ll mention that to the doctor.” He slid his arm under her legs and around her back and lifted her easily. It was like he didn’t even notice her weight.
“You weigh nothing,” he told her.
“I really have to do something about my filter,” she muttered.
“I like it. It’s refreshing to know exactly what you’re thinking. Kind of like how a child would talk.”
She shut up at that. He slid her into the passenger seat of the car. “Are you all right sitting up?”
“Y-yes,” she told him before he did up her seat belt. Sheesh, when was the last time someone had treated her with such care? And this was coming from the man who’d this morning accused her of stealing from his grandmother and sent her running from the house. It was hard for her to keep up.
He strode around the car and climbed in. The back door opened.
“I’ve put everything in your backpack, love. When you feel better, come back and I’ll arrange a refund.”
“Thank you,” she called back before Kate disappeared.
“Okay, baby, just rest while I get you to the hospital.”
“I really just want to go home.” Well, it wasn’t her home. Not anymore. But right now, it was the place she most wanted to be.
“Not happening, sweet pea. You’re ill and you’re getting checked over. You can go home once the doctor says it’s okay and not a minute before.”
“You’re bossy.”
“Yep,” he agreed cheerfully, rather than getting annoyed. “I am. I’m also taking charge of you right now, since you’re in no condition to look after yourself.”
“You. . .you can’t just do that.” Did his arrogance know no bounds?
“Actually, I can. My grandmother put you in my care.”
“What? That. . .it’s. . .I’m a grown woman. I don’t need anyone to care for me.”
“Since I just found you lying half-unconscious, running a high temperature, with cuts and scrapes and refusing to get medical attention, I beg to differ. You need a keeper. Until I decide that you are capable of making good decisions regarding your health and safety, I am that person. I owe my grandmother. And you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” Was he doing this out of guilt over what happened this morning? That made more sense than the nonsense about his grandmother giving her to him, was just an excuse. Obviously, he felt bad over what happened. But he’d had no idea who she was. It was her fault for not speaking up.
“Why didn’t you speak up?” he asked.
“Goddamn it. I need a gag.”
He laughed at that. “I can arrange that if you want, baby girl.”
Umm, say what now?
“No need to look so alarmed. Some people like being gagged.”
“Why would anyone like being gagged?” she asked tiredly. That rush of adrenaline she’d gotten when he appeared by her bed was fading leaving her weak and woozy.
“Sometimes people enjoy being gagged, bound, spanked and fucked.”
“Like BDSM?” she asked before she thought better of it.
“Sure.”
“Are you a Dom?”
“Yep,” he replied honestly. “Actually, I’m a Daddy Dom.”
“A Daddy Dom? Really?”
“Do you know what a Daddy Dom is?” he asked.
“Yeah. I like to read Daddy Dom stories.”
“Is that so,” he murmured. “Good to know, baby girl.”
Wait. He was a Daddy Dom and he was calling her baby girl. “I’m not a Little.”
“Sure you aren’t, baby. And I don’t have an asshole for a father.”
“Your father is most definitely an asshole. Oh shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I? Maybe that
gag is a good idea.” It was so hard to keep her eyes open.
“Gigi? Why didn’t you tell me who you were yesterday at the hospice or this morning when I was accusing you of stealing from my grandmother?”
“It didn’t seem appropriate yesterday when you just got there. And this morning, you were yelling at me. You were mad. You scared me.”
He cursed. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“S’okay.” The young note to her voice belied her statement that she wasn’t a Little. But she was too tired to care.
“No, it’s not. And you shouldn’t forgive so easily. You should insist I make it up to you. Gigi? Tell me what happened to you after you left. How did you get those scrapes and your swollen ankle?”
“I fell over, running away from you.”
“I wasn’t chasing you.” He frowned.
“I was scared. You were mad. Like Dad used to get.”
“Fuck. Me.”
Her eyes closed. She was so tired. She just needed sleep. She didn’t need the hospital.
“Sweet pea? Gigi, stay with me. Stay awake. We’re almost there, sweetheart. Come on, wake up and show me those beautiful blue eyes of yours.”
“Just wanna sleep.”
“I know, little one. Soon you can sleep all you want. In fact, I’m going to insist on it. I don’t think you’ve been taking proper care of yourself, but that’s all going to change. I’m here now.”
He was here now.
She didn’t know if that was a promise or a threat.
* * *
Worry flooded him as he carried her into the emergency room of the local hospital. There were a few people sitting around. He carried her straight up to the desk. By now, she was completely out of it. His heart pounded. Why hadn’t he tried to find her earlier?
“Quick, we need a doctor,” he snapped at the woman behind the desk.
“What’s wrong?”
“She has a fever. Some cuts and bruises. Also she said she has Lupus.”
Warrior Daddy Page 3