Call Me Daddy

by Jade West

This club stinks. It’s too loud to talk properly, not that I’d be talking anyway. Kelly Anne is already far more interested in some drunk guys than she is about me. Standard.

  So much for besties.

  So much for Mason, master of the female orgasm, too, seemingly.

  I think about calling it off, making my excuses and heading back home to Nick where I belong.

  Where I belong.

  It’s so nice to belong somewhere.

  It’s interesting that being out somewhere I hate makes it all the more obvious how amazing my life is right now. I mean, I knew it. I know it every minute of every day, but this, this… fake pretence of having a good time… I’m really, really done with this.

  This is the last crappy birthday party of Kelly Anne’s I agree to. Next year she’ll have to find some of her fake friends to hang out with. I’m done.

  She introduces me to some wasted guy called Tyler, and I smile politely. Tyler tells me he’s got pills, and I tell him thanks but definitely no thanks, and keep a close eye on my drink in case one of those pills magically ends up in there.

  I keep an eye on Kelly Anne’s drink, too, as hard as that is with her swinging it around all over the place as she flirts and grinds and makes a real slut of herself.

  It’s barely nine and I’m already bored to tears.

  I’m thinking of my warm bed and Nick’s kisses when Kelly Anne snatches my phone from my handbag.

  “Yeah… for real! Creepy old dude bought her this!” She hands it to Tyler and his idiot friend, and I laugh into action that feels so alien to me. I try to grab it back, but Kelly Anne takes it from Tyler’s hand before I can get to it. She holds it out of reach as she flicks through my phone gallery, and my privacy feels so personally invaded that I’m not sure whether I should slap her or cry or both. “She’s got a fucking curfew, too. Like Cinderella. Talk about creepy.”

  They laugh.

  She laughs.

  And for the first time in my life I really hate Kelly Anne.

  I didn’t even hate her when she left all my things with strangers and bailed on me, but right now, laughing about my life with Nick and treating me like a silly little joke, I hate her so much I want to storm out and never see her again.

  If only I felt okay about leaving her with these creeps.

  “Give it back!” I shout over the music. “It’s not funny, Kelly Anne!”

  She keeps flicking, as though she’s got every right to snoop, and it irritates me so much I feel sick to my stomach. I have nothing private on there, not really, but that isn’t the point. It really isn’t the point.

  She rolls her eyes when she sees I’m not playing, scrolling just a bit more to make a point before she hands it back.

  My heart races as I check it for damage. There isn’t any and I breathe in relief.

  I check the time before I put it back to safety in my handbag, and it’s only just gone eight o’clock. Shit.

  The night is going to take forever.

  Nick

  I guess hearing nothing could be considered a good thing. Maybe she’s really enjoying herself. Maybe Laine likes drum and bass. Maybe she likes dancing, too. I haven’t yet had enough time to figure that out.

  Maybe she’s having so much fun with Kelly Anne that she’s barely giving me a second thought, and as much as it pains me not to be the centre of her universe every waking minute, I’d be happy for her.

  I want her to be happy. I want her to embrace life, and laugh and love and dance to drum and bass, if that’s what makes her happy.

  I keep working on my spreadsheet.

  Just a few more hours to go.

  Laine

  Kelly Anne is too drunk to listen to anything much I have to say, but when I tell her at eleven that I might make a move early she seems to hear that loud and clear.

  “NOOO!” she wails and grips my wrist for dear life. “I neeeeed you, bestie!”

  Like hell she does.

  She’s grinding away on Tyler’s friend Mickey, trying to smile so coyly like there’s any chance she won’t be fucking him this evening. Tyler is too close to me for comfort, dancing so close with a stupid grin on his face. I dance away a little, trying to keep a bit of distance, but wherever I go he follows.

  “I’m serious!” I tell her. “I’m going soon, Kels! Nick will be waiting soon anyway!”

  “I’m so sick of hearing about fucking Nick!” she snaps.

  And I’m so sick of her bullshit and our one-sided friendship, but I bite my tongue and keep dancing.

  It is her birthday, after all.

  Nick

  My heart is in my throat as the bell tolls midnight. I’m scouring the street, scanning the people walking from club to club for any sight of her beautiful blonde hair. I’ve parked up in the right spot, so there’s no confusion where she should be headed, and I haven’t had any news as to which exact club the girls have settled on, so I daren’t leave my spot to head in her direction, just in case we cross paths and it leaves her in the cold.

  It’s snowing, just a little. The December air cold enough to numb my face. Just a few weeks from Christmas, and everyone is in high spirits, everyone except me.

  I check my phone again. Nothing. I dial her number and it goes straight through to voicemail.

  No big deal. A lot of the clubs don’t have good phone reception, it could be nothing.

  When my mobile shows it’s ten past the hour I know I’m lying to myself.

  Laine

  “I’m really going now!” I tell her. I hold up my phone screen to show her the time. A quarter to midnight. Plenty of time to get back to the car.

  I can’t wait.

  The night has taken forever.

  Kelly Anne really is drunk now. She can barely stand up, gripping hold of my elbow as she presses her mouth to my ear. “There’s no point,” she tells me and her voice is slurry. The guys laugh, in on some secret joke at my expense, I’m sure.

  “Whatever, Kels, let me take you home. I’m sure Nick won’t mind.”

  She shakes her head and there’s that cackle she gives me when she’s being a bitch. “There’s no point!” she laughs. “He won’t be there!” She clinks her glass against mine. Mine’s the same one I bought when we stepped in the place, and I have absolutely no intention of finishing it. I’m about to tell her that of course he’ll fucking be there, but she’s laughing so hard she wouldn’t hear me. Someone walks over my grave, and I get this horrible sinking feeling, just like I did when I came out of the toilets and knew she was gone. “I changed your clock!” she laughs. “When I had your phone earlier! I changed the clock!”

  My blood runs cold.

  She squeezes my arm. “He makes you so boring, Laine! Curfew this and curfew fucking that. He’s too fucking old! You should be having fun!”

  I hate myself for being so stupid, holding up the handset to find it has no signal in this shitty place.

  “You wouldn’t…” I start, and I’m shaking my head, not really wanting to believe it, even though my gut knows it’s true.

  She holds up her own phone, and she’s so proud. So fucking proud of her asshole move.

  00:47

  Shit. Nearly an hour late.

  I wish the ground would swallow me up.

  “Fuck you,” I say, and I can’t believe the words come out.

  Her eyes are wide even through her drunkenness. “What?!”

  “FUCK YOU!” I scream, and I don’t care anymore. I push my way past her and head for the exit, pushing through the drunk idiots until I get to the cloakrooms, every step wobbly and desperate as my heart pounds and my handset tries fruitlessly to connect to the mobile network.

  A hand on my arm nearly pulls me over, and for a second I’m back in the road as it rains, Daddy Nick’s hand startling me from my panic.

  Only it’s not Nick. It’s Kelly Anne, and she has the fucking gall to look pissed at me. “Don’t fucking go!” she snaps.

  “Leave me alone,” I tell her. “Ju
st leave me alone, Kels.”

  “It’s my BIRTHDAY!” she screams. “You’re my BEST FUCKING FRIEND!”

  But I’m not.

  She’s no fucking friend of mine.

  “I’m not your friend,” I tell her. “You just use me to prop yourself up when there’s nobody cooler.”

  She looks like I’ve slapped her, and I’ve got no time for this. I turn away from her but she won’t let go. “No, Laine! You use me to prop yourself up! None of my other friends want to hang with me because of you.” I don’t want to hear it, but she won’t let go of my wrist. “You know what they say about you, right? They call you simple. They call you boring bitch. Mary Vernon says you’re so dull that you make her ears bleed. That’s why I have no friends to hang out with, Laine! Because of you!”

  It hurts.

  It hurts like she intends it to.

  But not nearly so much as knowing I missed my curfew.

  “Fuck you, Kelly Anne, I’m done,” I tell her. I’m calm and I mean it. I really fucking mean it.

  I tug away from her and head for the street, and this time she doesn’t follow me.

  “HE DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU!” she screams. “NOBODY DOES!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Laine

  I’ve never run so fast in my life. My feet barely touch the floor as I pound the beach front, my heart in my throat as I realise what I’ve done. What she’s done.

  I’m out of breath as I see his car in the distance, but I still keep running, and then I see him, and he’s running too.

  I slam into his body and wrap my arms around his neck and I want to tell him how sorry I am but no words will come.

  “What, Laine?! What is it? What’s going on?” His hands are in my hair, on my cheeks, checking me all over, and his eyes are wide and petrified.

  I struggle for breath, and it pains so much to see what I’ve done.

  “Nothing…” I wheeze. “Not like that… it was Kelly Anne! She changed my clock! I didn’t know! I swear I didn’t know!”

  His eyes are so hurt as he realises. So hurt.

  It makes me feel like shit upon shit. I struggle not to cry, but I don’t deserve to cry, not after being so stupid. I’ve been so stupid.

  I really am naive. Just a stupid fucking idiot. Just like Kelly Anne says.

  “You gave her your phone?” he asks, and it’s so angry and pointed that my tummy flips.

  “No! She took it! I wouldn’t! I didn’t!”

  “I’ve been waiting here an hour, Laine. A whole fucking hour.” He’s so hurt, his eyes so scared. “I was out of my fucking mind, Laine! Petrified! Do you have any fucking idea what that’s like? Do you have any fucking idea?”

  No. I don’t.

  Because I’ve never lost anybody. Not like he has.

  But I’m beginning to get a sense of it. Because I’m petrified of losing him right now. Petrified of losing everything.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, and my voice sounds pathetic and small. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

  There’s no Daddy this time, but he doesn’t even notice. He’s staring past me, into the distance, his jaw gritted and his eyes so sad.

  “Get in the fucking car,” he says.

  Nick

  A terrible concoction of relief and anger. Hurt, too.

  Hurt that someone as loving and special as Laine could do something so stupid and reckless.

  My temples pound as I drive, my gut churning and twisted.

  “I’m sorry,” she says again, but it does nothing to calm my mood.

  I have nothing to say, not like this. Not while I’m still wired and on the edge, chased by demons I’ve tried so hard to ignore. Demons that know exactly how it feels to lose everything.

  I pull through the gates and park up, slam the car door as I head for the front door. Laine follows like a shadow, her fingers clasped tight together and her eyes on the floor.

  I close the door behind us, and then I lock it, barricading us in as though she’s still in danger.

  Only she wasn’t in danger, only reckless. Trusting. Far too trusting.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry, Nick, I swear.”

  I pour her a juice, unsure of how much she’s had to drink already, and dig out a bottle of whisky from my father’s vintage stash and pour myself a healthy measure. She watches me, staring with big doe eyes.

  “I can go,” she whispers. “If you want… I can go…”

  “You aren’t going fucking anywhere!” I snarl. “Not fucking anywhere, Laine. You’re fucking grounded! Forever, Laine, for-fucking-ever!”

  Grounded. It sounds so fucking stupid.

  She nods anyway. “Okay.”

  “No!” I snap. “It’s not okay, Laine! It’s really not okay!”

  I stare at the girl in front of me, only she’s not a girl, not really. I can’t keep her in a cage, can’t protect her from everything, can’t keep pretending she’s an infant who needs me to dress her and wash her and wipe her dirty ass.

  It all falls away, this illusory game we’re playing.

  She’s not Jane.

  She’s not Louisa, either.

  She’s just her. A young woman who’s never known love. Who’s never known what it feels like to be cared for.

  And that’s what she wants from me.

  She wants love. Not just kinky daddy play, or a new phone, or a daily call at lunchtime. She wants love. Actual love, as an actual young woman with someone who treats her right.

  “Talk to me,” she whispers. “Please.”

  I don’t know where to start.

  She takes a step closer and her eyes are so eager for reassurance. “Please talk to me.”

  “I was scared,” I tell her. “So scared I couldn’t think straight.”

  She nods. “I was scared too. Scared because I knew how scared you’d be. Scared because I’d hurt you so bad.” Her lip trembles. “Scared because I thought I’d lost everything, all for the sake of someone who never even gave a shit about me. Scared I’d ruined the only good thing I’ve ever had.”

  Her words pang. “You haven’t lost anything, Laine. I’m still right here. I’m just fucking angry.”

  She nods. “Angry because of me. Scared because of me.”

  “Scared because of that stupid selfish bitch Kelly Anne more specifically.”

  She shrugs. “I should have stopped her. Should have checked.”

  “Yes,” I agree. “You should have.”

  “It’ll never happen again…” she says.

  “No,” I tell her. “It won’t.”

  She sips at her juice, and she’s thinking, her gaze darting around the room as she tussles with some course of action or another. “You could punish me,” she says. “Like your father did, with the belt. I deserve it, Daddy. I deserve everything.”

  I feel the beast stir, taking advantage of the adrenaline. It’s so easy to want that. So easy to seek out control in the way I learned from my father and he learned from his. The belt is hanging on the hook behind the study door, in the same place he used to keep it.

  The prospect of tanning Laine’s pretty little backside and making her suffer for her recklessness is so fucking tempting.

  “Never angry,” I tell her. “My father never disciplined me in anger, Laine.”

  “But your father never lost anyone,” she whispers. “Not like you did.”

  That’s true enough.

  “I don’t mind,” she says. “Really, Daddy, I don’t mind.”

  Her eyes are so adoring, so eager to make it all better. Maybe the belt would do that, forge a bond of respect that no silly little bitch like Kelly Anne will ever stand a chance of breaking.

  “It’ll hurt,” I tell her, and she nods.

  “I know it will, Daddy.”

  “You don’t,” I say. “You don’t know at all.”

  “I don’t care,” she says.

  I down the rest of my whisky.

  “Go through to the stud
y,” I tell her.

  Laine

  My nerves are on fire, tummy churning so bad I feel like I could throw up, but I make my way along the hallway and open the door to the study without a single moment’s hesitation.

  I want this. I want to please Nick and make him feel better. I want to make him feel safe. I want him to know I really am a good girl.

  I want him to know that I really am sorry.

  He isn’t far behind, and my breath catches as he closes the door behind us. The belt swishes on the hook as it slams, and I wonder if I’m really ready for this.

  “Over the desk,” he tells me. “On your front.”

  I lower myself so carefully, pressing my cheek to the leather inlay. It smells rich and woody, like old books and scotch.

  I imagine Nick here, in this very same position. I wonder if his heart used to race like mine is now.

  He lifts my dress, and tugs down my leggings and my knickers without saying a word.

  The air feels cold. My skin feels prickly.

  My mouth feels so dry I can hardly swallow.

  “Six,” he says. “I’m going to give you six. Not because I’m angry, but because you deserve it.”

  “Naughty girls need discipline,” I whisper.

  “Discipline shows care, Laine.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “I know, Daddy Nick.”

  “I love you, Laine,” he tells me and I’m so sad for what I’ve done that it hurts more than his belt ever could.

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  “Six,” he repeats. “And you’ll learn your lesson.”

  I’ve already learned it, but that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but us. Nothing matters but loving Nick and him loving me back. Nothing matters but making sure I never hurt him again.

  I gasp as the leather glides across my ass cheeks. “This is going to hurt,” he says. He gives me a tap, and the leather feels so smooth against my bare skin.

  I wonder how many times it’s been used for this.

  I hold my breath. Grip the edge of the desk so tightly.

  And then I wait.

  Silence.