by Abby Wood
That way if the police needed a witness to her murder, at least one person would know who killed her.
It was only when she reached the outer door to her father's office, the nerves she'd tried hard to ignore threatened to send her to the ladies restroom. She paused outside the door and inhaled through her mouth, exhaled through her nose, until she thought she'd hold down the bile churning in her stomach.
Then she walked into her father's domain.
The reception removed her glasses and smiled at her. "May I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to see Curt Stewart," she said.
The woman glanced at the papers on her desk before returning her gaze to Addison. "Do you have an appointment?"
She shook her head. "No. If you could please let him know that I have personal business with him, and it's urgent, I promise to only take a few minutes of his time."
"Your name?"
She leaned forward and whispered," I'd like to surprise him if that's alright.
The receptionist eyed her and finally rolled her chair backward and stood. "Let me see what I can do. If you'll have a seat, I'll be right back."
She nodded and turned around.
At this time of day, the waiting room stood empty. She wandered to the corner, picked up a magazine and flipped through it unseeing. She couldn't sit. If she did, her legs would never support her when it was time to walk back to meet her father.
She held her breath and let it out slowly. Nathan was going to kill her when he found out she'd come here by herself without telling him.
Purposely leaving Nathan out of her plans, she'd kissed him goodbye for the day and went to work like normal. She tapped her foot. Deep down, she knew he'd put a stop to her seeing her father on her own.
He'd want to come with or more than likely forbid her to come at all, and she would've obeyed him. Maybe he'd even try to confront her father on his own, which would not be the smartest thing. Nathan would never understand that she needed to construe an ending to that chapter in her life.
After finding out about her mother's hidden side, Addison assumed her mother had a different idea of how she wanted to live her life. Instead of finding satisfaction with a man who could dominate her, her mother had found herself tied down with a child she never wanted.
Addison needed answers to why her mother stopped living, because until she heard the truth, she'd go on hating, being fearful, and worrying about running into her father all the time. All unhealthy for her, she wanted to improve her life, because Nathan deserved someone strong. She wanted the strength to be her best, so she could enjoy life.
"Excuse me, Ms?" The receptionist stood in the waiting room. "Mr. Stewart will see you now. He wants you to know he has a meeting in a half hour, so you'll have to be quick."
"Excellent," she said.
Oh, God. What am I doing? He doesn't deserve to know me. He's never wanted me. She followed the receptionist down the hall. I was stupid for thinking this erases who I am. He never loved my mother. I doubt if mom ever loved him, she was a bitter, evil, bit—
"Here you go." The woman opened the door and smiled.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She stepped into the large room. Her breath, thick and suffocating her, roared in her ears.
Curt Stewart sat behind his desk and rose to his feet. For the first time in her life, she studied him up close. Sure, she'd seen him before, but she'd always ran away or tried not to look at him at all. His bigger than life and powerful stance in the state as a high roller intimidated her.
The gray at the temples softened a rather hard face. Curt Stewart's age was more apparent the longer she gazed at him. When he smiled and held out his hand, his eyes softened.
She put her hand in his, and gazed down searching for anything she could match to herself. Long fingers, nails shaped the same, complexion of their skin…
"I’m sorry. Bretta didn't inform me of your name." Curt motioned at the chair. "Sit. Please."
"Thank you," she mumbled.
Her thoughts raced and she had no idea how she'd start the conversation. All the rehearsed lines and practiced openings fled with the shock of actually seeing him in person. She sat on the edge of the chair. If he made one move, she'd jump up and run out.
"You're name?" he asked again.
She cleared her throat. "Addison Flint."
There. She'd put the truth out in front of him.
Her fingers curled around the sides of the chair. She stared at the man who'd fathered her. He nodded and leaned forward. The back of her leg bounced against the chair. Why wasn't he saying anything?
"Is there something I can help you with today?" Her father raised his brows and waited for her to continue.
She sucked in air. "I believe you had a relationship with my mother, Carly Flint, about twenty seven years ago."
"A business relationship?" He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "I was working with Morse Inc. back then. Not that they're in business any longer—he laughed—I guess we all have to start at the bottom and work our way up. Carly Flint, you say?"
She frowned. "Yes."
He clicked his tongue. "I'm sorry. The name isn't ringing a bell."
"What?" She pressed her hand to her chest, anger pressing down on her.
Either he was a habitual liar or he suffered from memory loss. Her mother had told her exactly what he'd said when finding out he had a child coming into the world. He'd threatened her life.
"I'm afraid I'm short on time today," Curt said, standing up, obviously dismissing her.
She stood and walked to the ceiling high window and stared down at the city below. This could not be happening.
"Ms. Flint?" Curt placed his hand on her back. "Can I help you with something?"
She crossed her arms, caught herself, and dropped her hands to her sides. "I—I came here to tell you something."
"Okay," he said, kindly.
She inhaled deeply and turned to face him. "I'm your—"
The door banged open. She jerked her gaze across the room. Oh, shit.
Nathan filled the room. His gaze went straight toward her and all her bravery fled. His eyes, concerned and alert, questioned her. She could imagine what was going through his mind.
How far had she gone? Did she tell Curt Stewart he was her father? Then, Nathan appeared to accept her standing next to her father, and he held out his hand.
"Addy, come here…" he said.
She glanced between her father and her lover. The pull coming from the other side of the room too strong to ignore, and she headed toward Nathan. In the middle of the room, she stopped. She hadn't accomplished anything. She'd never try to come here again and interrupt her father's life. It was now or never.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to Nathan.
Then she pivoted toward her father. "Almost twenty seven years ago, my mother came to you and told you she was pregnant. You denied you were the man who put the baby inside of her. She told me how you threaten to remove her and me from living if she told a soul. She—she inhaled a shuddering breath—never told anyone but me, and I was too ashamed to tell our secret."
Curt glanced from her to Nathan and back to her, frowning. "Ms. Flint, I—"
"No." She held up her hand. "I'm not here for any other reason than to let go of the secret. You see, I don't need to claim you as my dad. I'm just tired of living a lie and hiding my mother's excuses and fears for her. I have no reason to tell anyone about our connection, because you don't exist to me. I don't need a father. So, if your threat to kill me or bury the secret still holds true after all these years, you're welcome to do what you think you have to do. Just know that I'm not scared of you any longer and I refuse to hide."
Nathan had approached her while she was talking and wrapped his arms around her middle from the back. She sagged against him, soaking up his silent support. She'd completed her task, and one of her inherited terrors could be laid to rest.
"Although, I wish Addison would've let me k
now she was coming to meet you, I back her in what she's done today. You must know that you won't be able to touch her or her life. I won't let you," Nathan said.
Curt loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "I don't know what to say."
She shook her head. "There's no reason to say anything. It's in the past."
He leaned onto his desk as if the information was too much for him to carry on his shoulders. "Ms. Flint, I'm sorry…but, I'm not your father. I don't know who your mother was. There's certainly a chance that I dated or met her in some other capacity before and have forgotten a name. It was a long time ago."
She sighed. His denial came as no surprise, and she had no desire to know anything more. "I understand."
"No. I don't think you do." Curt wiped his forehead. "No woman has ever come to me and mentioned that she was pregnant before. That's something a man wouldn't forget."
"But, she told me what you said when she told you," Addison said. "There was no denying the fright you evoked. From the time I was ten years old, I knew never to seek you out or mention your name because you were the monster that could come after me."
He shook his head. "I'm not doubting your story. I-I honestly am telling you the truth. I don't know your mother."
Addison looked over her shoulder at Nathan. "I don't understand. I'm not asking him for anything."
"I know." Nathan directed his attention to Curt. "We'll be leaving."
Curt lunged forward. "Wait. If there's a possibility…I'd want to know."
"That's not necessary." She straightened.
He grasped her arm. "I don't have any children. My wife and I…we've tried. I'd like to know if there is any truth to me being…"
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because I'm not the kind of man you seem to think I am." Curt stiffened and dropped his hand. "If I knew I had a child out in the world, I'd want to know."
She studied him.
His eyes shined bright and a nervous tic in his left eyebrow flickered. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. The man her mother described was absent.
Curt Stewart held no threat to her. He was an older gentleman, who seemed genuinely confused over her news.
Nothing added up. Her mother's story seemed to have holes, not that she was surprised. Her mother wasn't the most open person, especially to Addison. The thought that her father actually wanted to get to know her, to know the truth, to help her fix her problem went against everything she'd been taught. She didn't know what to do.
"Is it okay if I call after I think about what has been said today?" she asked.
"Please," Curt replied. "Please do, and if you remember anything else or I do—he glanced up at Nathan—I'll call Nathan's office and leave a message."
She nodded and then turned and walked out of the office. With her chin held high, she entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close.
In private, Nathan moved toward her. She planted her hand on his chest.
"Please, don't touch me. I'm barely holding it together. If you care, if you want to help me, let me get out of here fast or I'm afraid I'm going to start bawling my head off and you'll end up carrying me home," she whispered.
He nodded and stepped to the side of the elevator. After a few seconds he said, "I'd always carry you home, doll."
Chapter Thirty-Three
"Eleven," Nathan said.
Nathan's sense of making sure Addison remained grounded and not lost to him as he beat her with his belt gave her the permission to allow herself to slip into only feeling. Addison nodded, because she was powerless to speak. From the very beginning, she'd paid attention.
Each flick of the leather, each sting, each welt raised on her sensitive skin brought her out of herself and into what was happening between them. She couldn't hide from Nathan.
She tried. Even all these weeks of being together, she tried.
Whether it was human nature to protect her heart or she still battled with the painful lessons her mother taught her about not trusting anyone, she continued to test Nathan. He allowed her only so long, and then he showed her more attention.
The attention hurt. God, it hurt so freaking good.
The belt came down on her lower back. She moaned. The pain more of a caress to her soul, but she knew later, she'd be reminded of the mark he'd placed on her. The feeling of knowing he gave her everything lasted long after right now. That's why she loved any pain he inflicted on her.
She needed the constant validation that someone cared.
The next whipping, the worst one that would scare all her thoughts away came as expected. She lost all sensory feelings and smiled up into Nathan's face.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, and spread her legs wide. When he put his mouth on her nipple and bit, she refused to flinch.
For the pain already faded and only pleasure flooded her body. Her reaction signaled she was ready.
Nathan pushed her down on the floor and unzipped his trousers. Always dressed, he never stripped himself of all his clothes while taking his release with her. Later, when the cuddled in bed, he'd take his clothes off for a while. When she asked him why he never slept nude, he'd admitted that on the streets having clothes on saved his life.
She didn't question him further. She simply held him longer.
He plunged inside of her without any prep. Her pussy, wet, swollen with arousal, needed only his cock. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. Her nails dug into his back and she let the adrenaline rush free her from stopping Nathan. More alive than in pain, she held on while he assaulted her body.
The skin on her back screamed as Nathan nudged her inches across the wooden floor with each thrust. The pressure against her clit too much, she had no control over her own release. She came hard. Pleasure jolted through her, and she screamed in ecstasy.
She forced her eyes to stay open and on Nathan. Most times, he fucked for her sake. But, this was for him. She could always tell the difference.
He had trouble holding back. The swings of his arms came a little faster, a little harder, a little more erratic. She loved when she was able to let him lose himself and take from her without any guilt.
Finally, he grunted and shuddered in her arms. Her body sobbed, but she shed no tears. This moment. This feeling. This power he handed to her meant the world to her.
Because she knew deep in her heart that she was the only one in his life who allowed him to follow his gut instinct. She trusted him enough not to hurt her.
Not hurt in the physical sense, but the emotional way. Oh, she'd pay today and tomorrow for letting him take his frustrations and anger out on her with the stiffness, the bruises, the abrasions she received. Each mark a battle wound, a show of love, she wore proudly.
In her opinion, he always seemed to keep himself too aware of her emotional needs to hurt her beyond repair. He might not believe himself capable of walking away before he did any damage, but she had all the faith in the world that he'd never break her.
His body remained embedded in hers. For a long time, he said nothing. He merely gave her the closeness that she needed.
"Why are you smiling?" he finally said.
She inhaled deeply, relaxing her hold on him. Her legs slid along the back of his thighs, rubbing against his slacks. "Because it's hard to believe that I'm here, under you, holding you inside my body, and you've given me more than I ever expected."
"You deserve more than what I'm able to give you," he whispered.
"You're wrong." She pressed her finger to his lips. "Give me this, honey. Don't ugly what we just experienced with doubts."
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"I can't outrun the darkness." He laid his cheek against her head. "I need your light."
His phone vibrated in his pocket. She flinched as he swiftly removed himself from her body and stood. She languished on the floor, turning and propping her head up on her hand.
Nathan removed his cell. "Y
eah?"
His mouth tightened, and he glanced down at her before turning around. She sat up, grabbed her shirt off the floor, and held it to her breasts.
"Okay." He ran his hand through his hair and his backed heaved in resignation. "We'll be there."
After he disconnected the call, Nathan remained with his back toward her. She walked over and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Trouble?"
He shook his head. "Professor Frank. He wants us to come right now."
"Now?"
He turned around and lifted her chin. "Yes. You will go and listen. That's all I'm asking of you. Once Professor has said what he wants to tell you, you're free to never see him again."
She pulled away. "I've changed my mind."
Nathan's eyes softened and he remained watching her. She tugged her shirt closed and crossed her arms. Yesterday's meeting with her father went well. She was still alive, and although he unwaveringly refused the possibilities that she was his child, she was okay with that.
"Get cleaned up and dressed." Nathan stripped out of his clothes and headed toward the bathroom. "We should leave in a half hour."
She sank down on the edge of the bed. "Shit."
Nathan stopped. "He's not a cruel man. He's the most honest, caring, and real person I know, besides you."
"But, he…abused my mother," she whispered.
"Did I abuse you a few minutes ago?" He leaned into the doorframe.
She shook her head. What they had together was different from what she viewed in the pictures of her mom taking the whippings from a dominant man. Her heart knew that there was more to the experience and desperate need she craved that Nathan filled for her. But it was still her mother who appeared the victim.
There was nothing normal or sane about even thinking of her mother as a sexual person. She shuddered. Everything about the situation set wrong with her, and she wanted to refuse to go with Nathan to talk to the man who probably knew more about her mother than she did.
Forty-five minutes later, Nathan parked behind the campus of U of P. Unlike meeting with Curt Stewart, she had no fear of coming face to face with Professor Frank. Nathan was with her, and she had his permission to walk out the door and never see Nathan's friend again.