Page 17 of Lose to Win: Lost Trilogy: Part 3
“I take it this was important enough for you to act like you can order me around, Mr. Puck,” he smirks at who I am trying to make my ex boyfriend.
“Well, your daughter,” Puck throws his arm out to point at me without actually looking at me, “just informed me that she’s planning on going back to her house, and back with Steve.”
I refuse to look at either one of them as they talk, so I just stare at the floor. The silence taking over the space we’re all occupying is threatening to kill me.
“Is that so?” dad finally says, the tone of his voice as even as ever, but there’s a bit of a bite to it.
“I need to get on the computer,” Puck responds. I am surprised because that has nothing to do with what’s going on here. “Do not let her out of your fucking sight. I will chain her to the bed if I have to. She thinks she’s smart,” Puck spits out.
I whimper in disbelief. What he’s saying is too close for comfort to what Steve always tells me.
“She thinks I don’t know he’s got something on her, that he’s making her say this to me. They all have another thing coming.”
With that, Puck walks out, half naked and without a care in the world. I am speechless.
Dad doesn’t say anything for the longest time. He just watches me, never moving from his spot by the door.
“Dad,” I say around the lump in the back of my throat. “I…”
“For some odd reason,” he starts, completely ignoring the fact that I was going to speak, “you seem to think that I am not capable of saving you from all this, Em.”
The disappointment in his voice is obvious, breaking another small piece of my heart.
“I’m sorry, dad,” I whisper. “That is not true at all. I love you.”
My voice breaks right at the end. I still can’t look at him, and I feel uncomfortable standing in my robe in the middle of the room like this. I didn’t think breaking things with Puck would be easy, but I didn’t expect my dad to be in my face like this.
His cell phone rings, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, I just feel his eyes boring into mine.
“I’m going to put some clothes on,” I murmur quietly when the phone stops ringing, but then starts back up. Dad nods my way, almost like he is giving me permission to move, causing chills to explode up and down my spine. Ever since Steve showed me the damning pictures of my father, I see his ruthlessness more and more each day.
I turn around and rush to the closet to grab a top and comfortable pants. My hand goes to my belly, and I force myself not to let out a sob. No wonder my clothes have been feeling tight lately. I thought I was just eating too much, the thought of a baby growing in there never having crossed my mind.
I hear dad answering the call, and I let out a sigh of relief. I can only hope that whoever called him will take his attention away from me for a bit.
“No,” he says, his tone hard and unforgiving. “That’s perfect. Well done, Puck.”
He sounds like he’s smiling when he says Puck’s name, my heart constricting in my chest. I know they think they can change my mind about any of this, but they’re wrong, and I will do whatever I need to do in order to save them all.
Except for the baby in my belly.
My hand goes back to cover my stomach at the reminder of something I’d rather forget.
“Are you ready in there?” dad calls from the doorway to the bedroom. All of a sudden, he seems rushed.
“Uh, I have to take a shower before I get dressed, dad.”
He gives me a critical look, eyeing me up and down, assessing if I do need a shower or not. If I was in a better mood, I’d laugh.
“You have fifteen minutes.” With that, he turns around and leaves me alone.
I run to the door and lock it, then turn and press my back against the hard wood. How am I going to get away from these two? It’s like they made it their mission to be glued to me now.
I hate putting clean clothes on my not so clean body, but I bite the bullet. The only thing that comforts me is the fact that I have Puck’s scent all over me, inside of me…
I swallow hard at the memory. He looked so desperate to take me when he got home, I couldn’t deny him. But now I am running late. I was given very specific instructions on what I needed to do. And step one was to not be late.
I undo the belt of my robe, then drop it to the floor, almost tripping and falling over when I attempt to put on a pair of clean panties as gracefully as I am capable of. My bra is next, followed by a tank top that offers a new layer of support. My breasts feel heavy and saggy, another reminder of all the signs I missed.
