Page 60 of His Red Carnation

“Sloane, you’re not going anywhere. I’m not letting you see a fucking perverted child molestor who’s been taking advantage of you.”

“Jake!” Mom scolded.

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Do Ilooklike a child, Dad? None of this started until I was eighteen, and I’ve consented to everything we’ve done together,” I argued, my voice raised.

Dad raised his eyebrows. “He’s still a fucking pervert, Sloane. You have no idea howwrongthis is. A man his age should want nothing to do with a girl your age.”

Anger surged through me. “I am not a fucking little girl anymore, Dad. And you cannot tell me that you won’t ‘let’ me see him. Because legally, I can walk right out of here and never come back.”

“Ay dios mio.Jake, Sloane…we need to all take a breather, okay? Otherwise we’re going to say things we regret in here,” Mom cut it in, taking my hand and squeezing it.

Dad’s widened eyes never left me. His voice was low and deep as he said, “You and Callan have ruined my reelection. My whole legacy as a president is shattered. The only thing anyone will ever remember is how my fucking thirty-eight year old bodyguard and my eighteen-year-old daughter were fucking.”

A deep ache spread through my chest. Dad had never talked to me that way before, and hearing those words out loud made me start bawling. I already felt guilty, but now it weighed down on me like sandbags were tied to my ankles.

“Jacob Harold Martin,” Mom’s low voice reprimanded Dad as I ran out of the room and into my own.

My heart was shattered. Had we really ruined Dad’s entire career? Would people bethatoffended by my relationship with someone older than me? Why did it even matter? It had nothing to do with him.

I locked my door and pulled my phone out, my breath hiccuping from the sobs that still escaped my chest. There was a text from Callan:Everything okay? Where are you?

I quickly texted back with shaky fingers:No. I am not okay. I need you.

I stared at my phone, waiting for Callan to respond. A loud knock on the door jolted me, pulling my attention away from the screen.

“Sloane, honey. Are you okay?” Mom’s worried voice called out.

I shook my head. “No, Mom. I’m not okay. I need to get out of here,” I cried. I looked back down at my phone, waiting for Callan. There was nothing. Impatient, I dialed his number.

“Baby, please let me in. We can talk,” Mom continued.

I listened as the ringtone droned on; Callan’s voicemail picked up, and I hung up. I dialed again, desperate to hear his voice.

“Sloane.” Mom wasn’t giving up, but I didn’t respond.

I began to lose it when Callan didn’t answer the second time. I grabbed a small suitcase and began to pile in clothes, books, my laptop, extra chargers. I grabbed my purse, phone, and closed the suitcase as I unlocked the door and swung it open. Mom was standing there with her arms crossed and a sad, concerned frown on her face.

“Baby.” She looked down at my bag and shook her head. “Please don’t leave. I know Daddy said some harsh words but you have to understand how this is all making him feel,” she said quietly.

I shook my head. “How do you thinkIfeel? Dad doesn’t care about me! He only cares about how he looks to the public.” I took a step aside and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” she called out.

“Where do you think?” I responded as I looked over my shoulder and headed for the stairs.

“At least have someone take you there, baby. I don’t want you out there by yourself,” her voice followed closely behind me.

I hurried down the stairs and found Leo and Julian waiting at the bottom.

“Ma’am, the President asked that no one leave or enter the premises,” Julian said to Mom as she stepped down beside me.

She scoffed. “Well, we’re not just anyone, are we? Move,” she snapped.

They exchanged glances, their feet still firmly planted.

“I said fucking move or I’m firing you both right now!” she yelled.

Leo huffed and took a step back, making room for us to pass. Julian shook his head as he followed suit.

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