Page 44 of Break Me, Daddy

His words were like a bucket of ice-cold water being dumped on her head. “Dad, they already said?—”

“I don’t give a fuck what they said. Legares don’t give up at the first sign of trouble. If you can’t wrap your head around that, then perhaps you don’t belong in this family.”

Before she even had a chance to process his words, the call ended, leaving her staring at a blank screen.

Perhaps you don’t belong in this family.

Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for the pain stabbing at her chest as those words played over and over in her mind. Pressing the heel of her hand to her heart, she willed it to slow, willed her lungs to open so she could drag in enough air to fill them. But the band of panic around her chest was too tight, and her heart only pounded faster, harder as she tried desperately tojust fucking breathe.

Dragging herself out of bed, she stumbled to the shower, turning the spray to ice cold before stepping under the water. The shock of it seemed to snap that band around her chest, and as she stood there shivering, her heartbeat gradually slowed.

Back pressed against the cold tile, she slowly slid to the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked back and forth. What the hell was she going to do? She wasn’t even sure shewantedto go back to school, and even if she did want to, she was in no state to do so now. Too fragile, too unstable.

Tooweak.

It felt like hours she sat there on the floor of the shower, her mind running in circles as she tried to figure out what she should do next. She was no closer to a solution when she finally forced herself to her feet to change the temperature of the water. Now it beat down on her in a steady, steaming stream as she stood beneath it, closing her eyes as her own hot tears slipped down her cheeks.

Daddy would know what to do. She should tell him about the phone call, tell him how terrified she was, let him help her figure out how to fix this mess she’d gotten herself into. Not only would he be able to help, he’d be furious if shedidn’tcome to him.

Or, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind, he’d realize just how much of a fucking mess she really was and he’d put her out on her ass. Maybe not literally, he was too much of a gentleman for that, but would he still want to be her Daddy if he realized just how badly she needed him? If he knew she risked losing everything and he’d have to support her not just emotionally but financially as well? Her trust fund wasn’t nothing, but it also wasn’t anything close to the money her parents had.

Best not to risk it. She’d meet up with her father tomorrow, let him try and bully the school into taking her back. If he succeeded, well… she’d cross that proverbial bridge when she came to it. Same as if he didn’t succeed and he decided to cut her off.

Maybe Braden needed more help at the club. Surely she could learn to wait tables. Lottie had learned, and while she didn’tloveit, she didn’t seem to hate it, either. At least if she picked up a couple shifts at the club, she could contribute something toward her room and board without relying on Holden and without putting too large of a dent in her savings. God only knew how long she’d need that money and it wouldn’t last forever.

Satisfied with her plan of action, such as it was, she switched the shower off and stepped out to grab a towel. Only then did she realize Holden hadn’t shown up yet to check in on her, which seemed odd.

Had he decided to give up on her already? The thought had her blood running cold as she pulled on a pair of leggings and a shirt.

Or maybe he’s just working. Not everything is about you, Francesca.

Right. Probably just working.

Feeling steadier, she made her way downstairs. She’d get herself something to eat, prove to him she was getting better, that she could take care of herself if she had to. So maybe if her dad did cut her off, Holden wouldn’t see her as so much of a burden.

But her plan was thwarted by the sight of him at the stove and the smell of bacon frying. He looked up when she stepped into the kitchen, and although he smiled, it seemed tight at the edges.

“I heard the shower and thought you might like some breakfast.”

Her stomach was rumbling, but the thought of all that fatty bacon made her want to gag. “Sure. Um. Does it have to be bacon?”

“No, we have plenty of other options. What would you like?”

Anxiety crept up her spine, itchy fingers beneath her skin. She’d gotten so used to him just putting food in front of her or giving her limited choices, and the idea of choosing for herself suddenly seemed far too big.

You can do this. Stop being a big baby and just make a decision.

“What are my options?”

If Holden noticed her voice was a little too high, a little too tight, he didn’t comment. “Eggs, oatmeal, and there’s plenty of fruit to choose from. There’s also the yogurt you asked me to buy.”

Yogurt. Yogurt was nice and safe. And even though she was supposed to be pushing her boundaries a bit and not just relying on her safe foods, after the call she’d gotten that morning, she needed something safe.

“I’ll just get some yogurt. Thanks.”

Silence fell in the kitchen, save for the sound of the bacon crackling in the pan. It should have been comfortable, as it had been so many times before between them, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something brewing beneath that silence. No matter how many times she tried to shrug it off, to tell herself it was just residual nervousness from her conversation with her father, that nagging feeling just wouldn’t go away.

She waited for him to finish cooking his own breakfast before grabbing her yogurt from the fridge and settling at the table with him. And when he looked up, his expression more serious than she could ever remember seeing it, her breath clogged in her throat.

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