Page 3 of Melt For Us, Daddy
The words that slipped from Hannah’s lips blistered his ears. He didn’t even know what they meant, but he was certain they’d earn her a hell of a whipping if anyone but him overheard. “I can’t believe he’d…” Pausing, she let out a short, bitter laugh. “Of course I can. But still. She’s just a baby.”
“I know. That’s why I can’t go. I need to be here to protect her.”
“That’s why you have to go.” Urgency infused her tone as she leaned in, gripping his arms. “They won’t hurt her without you here to bear witness. You know that. It’s the way it’s always been for you. And Ruthie… well, hopefully he’ll be too focused on finding you to try and marry her off before you get us out.”
She was right. He knew she was right. And yet, the thought of leaving, of not being here to protect his sisters with what little power he had sat in his gut like a rock. “Who is Zachary?”
Something flickered in her eyes, but the room was too dark for him to really identify it. “I don’t know, exactly. Police, I think. He’s been making nice with us at the protests but I saw him one day, talking to some giant of a man outside that ‘den of iniquity’. I’ve been feeding him information, hoping it gets to the right people but there’s only so much I can tell him with the others hovering so close by and we can't wait any longer for them to come rescue us. You need to go and you need to tell them what’s happening and you need to send help. I’ll do what I can to protect our family while you’re gone.”
“How? This place is guarded night and day. I’d never get free.”
“Go to the protest tomorrow. Don’t ask permission, just put on your ‘only son of the prophet’ act and tell them you’re going. Slip away, and find a way into the building. I think there’s another entrance, maybe in the back because they’ve stopped using the front door. Find Zach, or anyone, I don’t care, and give them that note.”
Was this really the solution? Was abandoning his family the only way to save them?
Just the thought was enough to tear him in two. But the more he thought about it, the longer he sat there in the dark with Hannah watching him with those wide, determined eyes, the more the plan made sense.
“Okay.” Dragging air into lungs that suddenly felt too tight, he nodded once. “I’ll go. And I’ll get you out. I’ll get you all out. I swear, Hannah, when I come back, I’m coming with an army.”
Chapter 1
Ivy
Silas Redding is my husband.
Those words rang in Ivy’s mind over and over again, nearly drowning out the conversation happening around her.
Cordelia, her best friend, her lover, her Domme had lied to her. Kept the world’s biggest fucking secret from her for years. If Ivy ever dared to keep even the smallest thing from Cordelia, she found herself over her woman’s knees getting her bottom blistered until she finally confessed. It didn’t happen often, but it was one of Cordelia’s biggest rules, one she enforced without hesitation.
The irony was not lost on her.
But as furious as she was, as hurt as she was, this wasn’t about her. Looking over, she took in Cordelia’s profile. The curve of her jaw, currently clenched tight, the long, dark lashes that framed those gorgeously green eyes Ivy had fallen in love with well before they’d taken the leap from friends to lovers. Every muscle in her body was tense, as if braced for a fight.
Or preparing to run.
Reaching over, Ivy threaded her fingers through Cordelia’s, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Cordelia looked down, almost as if she was surprised to find Ivy's hand there. And although she looked away again without meeting Ivy’s gaze, her fingers closed around Ivy’s hand in a tight fist.
Following Cordelia’s line of sight, Ivy looked over at the young man they’d run into outside the club. Their club. Their home, their safe place. Knowing he’d come so close to the door, that he could have run into anyone, had that anger she was trying so hard to push down bubbling back to the surface.
Jacob Redding. Grandson of Silas Redding who, from what she’d pieced together, was head of The Prophets of the Sacred Truth. The same cult Cordelia had escaped as a teenager. The people who had her screaming herself awake once every few months or so when the nightmares came for her.
He looked so… harmless. Young, much younger than her and Cordelia if she had to guess. Dressed in a perfectly pressed suit with thick brown hair brushed back from a face she didn’t want to find attractive.
It was the eyes that drew her in. Pale gray, and filled with what was either true fear or a damn good imitation of it. Like the attraction, she didn’t want to feel the pity stirring in her chest at the sight of those terror-filled eyes.
“All right, Jacob.” Leaning back against Braden’s desk, Holden Prescott folded his arms across his massive chest and stared down their guest. Tall and built like a fucking redwood, he didn’t even have to try and look intimidating, but he was definitely putting in the extra effort just then. “You said you came here for help. What kind of help?”
“Um.” Swallowing hard, Jacob rubbed his hands on his dress pants, wrinkling them in the process. “I’m supposed to talk to Zachary. Are you Zachary?”
“Zach works for me. Anything you need to ask him, you can ask me.”
“Oh.” Relief flashed across Jacob’s face as he reached into his pants pocket.
Instantly, every man in the room was on their feet, surrounding him. Shrinking back, he jerked his hand from his pocket, holding his palms up in instinctive surrender.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Letting go of Ivy’s hand, Cordelia jumped to her feet, shoving past them to stand in front of Jacob, turning her back on him to glare at the group of large, intimidating Doms. “Can’t you see he’s fucking terrified already? Back off.”
“He could have a weapon.” Ice, the bad boy rockstar of the group, didn’t take his eyes off Jacob. None of the men did.
