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Chapter Twelve
Dominic
We hike up the old creaking steps, and Mer meets us at the door, whipping it open. Her face is etched with a scowl.
“Where’s my shit,” she spits, cutting her gaze to Swayze, and I position myself between them.
“We got your bullshit, Mer. Calm the fuck down.” I hold my palm up to Swayze, and she places the baggy in my open hand. I push it into Mer’s chest. “She won’t be getting anything else for you ever again. You understand me?”
Her lip curls in disgust. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that. This is my house and if she’s planning on staying here then she will need to earn her keep.”
My stomach rolls with regret. Why had I never seen her hatred for Swayze before? Mer always acted as though she claimed her as her own, but I guess hard times will bring out one’s true nature.
“Just move, Mer. I’m tired, and I don’t want to fight with you tonight,” I admit, exasperated.
She steps out of the way with a huff. “I hope you filled up that tank like you promised.”
That’s not the only thing I filled.
I did, but that was more for my benefit. We just need to get through tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll have divorce papers ready for her, and a new place for Zair-Bear and me.
Once inside, Mer slinks back into her room and, of course, slams the door after her. Sway lingers behind me. She’s attached to me at the hip, unsure of where she should be after the moment we shared in the car.
I cradle the side of her face when I turn to her. “Go to bed, baby girl. Tomorrow’s a new day.”
Her eyes hold me at the center of her world, and I can almost see that she wants to object before she finally gives in to my request without objection. She leans into my touch before giving me a slight nod.
“Okay,” she whispers. Before leaving, she gets on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek. The action shocks me and hits me deep within. “Night, Daddy.”
She slips away down the hall, and part of me regrets being the better man here. Better man? Shit, my definition of that’s fucked up. I want to follow her and hold her while she curls up in my arms.
Our own place, that's what we'll have. A place she can finally call home. A place where she will feel safe.
I take up my spot on the couch and breathe deeply. Then I realize I still have my daughter’s cum on my dick. I should shower and try to wash away my evil doings, but a tub of acid can’t erase what I did. But the guilt? What’s making me feel guilty is that my guilt isn’t as strong as it should be. The crickets chirp and shower me with the songs of hope for a better tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
Swayze
It’s not long before I fall asleep, cocooned safely in my bed. I was blissfully exhausted after the intense orgasm Daddy pulled from me, my body remembering every stroke he left behind. Every touch made my skin sing his praises. He left himself tattooed on my soul. When my alarm wakes me, I almost throw my phone against the wall. The dream I was having was too good to let go of. The only thing that inspires me to drag my ass out of the bed is that I can experience the real thing. Daddy’s here now.
I roll over and slip out from beneath the heavy comforter. The trailer is stuffy, as always. I creep down the hallway to the living room, and my heart sinks a little at not seeing Daddy on the couch. It’s lunchtime, so maybe he ran off to get some food. God knows Mom doesn’t keep anything around here. She’s too worried about spending what little cash she does get from disability on her drugs. Anything I earn also supports her habits. I wonder what she’ll do now that Kyle is out of the picture. I’m sure some other sleazebag will take his place.
After quickly showering in the small, cramped bathroom, I exit with only a towel wrapped around my body. There’s a little bit of commotion in the living room, which has me racing to see if Daddy has come back, but I’m met with a tight-lipped Mom and the hungry, predatory eyes of a drug dealer.
“Swayze, this is Reaper. Reaper, this is my daughter. She’s the one that picked the drugs up for me last night. Isn’t that right, girl?” She questions with an arch to her brow.
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. Why didn’t I think they would come for us? Where’s Daddy?
“Yeah.” I agree with her statement, keeping my answers short.
The greasy man straightens from his position against the counter and crowds me. Liquor smells like it’s seeping from his pores.
“How was Kyle last night, huh? Did he seem well to you?” He pushes a wet strand off my shoulder and I have to suppress the disgust that’s wanting to explode from my mouth.
“He was the same.” I cock my hip to the side, showing nonchalance in my stance like I don’t care that I’m standing in front of this pervy guy in a towel and nothing else.
“Hmm. Was he pushy at all? Did he try to grab this sweet ass, and did you fight him?” The question leads to his hand squeezing my backside. Fight. I resist the urge to smack his hand away as he lingers there, his fingers dangerously close to the sensitive flesh of my cunt, the towel doing nothing for protection.
