Page 2 of A Secret Baby for Christmas
I shake my head. “Mom’s in France and Papa’s….”
I can’t finish my sentence, because I don’t know what to say. Papa’s in one of his moods and best not to be around.
Mr. Porter just nods, and there’s a sad look in his eyes.
“I’ll need to let your father know where you are,” he says gently.
The thought of Papa coming to get me makes my stomach twist, and my hand shakes so badly that I put the hot chocolate down before I spill any.
Mr. Porter is staring at my shaking hands with a frown on his face. I tuck them under my knees so he doesn’t see them shake.
“Would you like to stay for a sleepover?” he asks gently. “Allie would love to have you.”
The thought of not having to go back home today make my tummy relax. Papa will have calmed down by tomorrow, and it will all be back to normal.
“Yes.” I smile shyly at him.
Mr. Porter is being so kind, and he’s not at all as scary as I thought he was. When I smile he smiles back at me, and I notice how his eyes crinkle and his tousled hair falls around his face, kind of like an older version of Harry Styles. He’s got a cute face for an older man.
The fire is warm on my back, and without thinking I pull Allie’s sweatshirt over my head.
There’s a gasp behind me and I turn quickly, remembering the mark too late. Mr. Porter stops my hand before I can cover the welt on my arm.
“How did you get this?”
His voice has gone hard and scary and I pull away from him, wondering what I’ve done to upset him. He drops my arms, and his look softens.
“Who did this to you, Chloe?”
It’s not the first time my father’s hit me, but it was the scariest. He pulled my sweater up and whacked me with the first thing he had on hand, which was his shoe.
The sharp edge bit into my skin and left an angry red welt.
“I deserved it,” I say, repeating the words my papa used. I spilled milk and cereal on the carpet, and he hates his carpet being ruined.
“No child deserves this.” Mr. Porter stands up abruptly. “I’m going to call your father.”
“No,” I say quickly. “He’ll know I’ve been telling, and I’ll get in more trouble.”
I grab hold of his wrist, pleading, but Mr. Porter has anger in his eyes.
“If your mother’s not here to stick up for you, then someone needs to.”
He strides out of the room, and a few minutes later I hear his raised voice. I sneak over to the door that’s been left partially open and peer through.
Mr. Porter is on his phone pacing in the hallway. He must be speaking to Papa.
“You lay a finger on her again, asshole, and I’ll personally come around and beat the shit out of you.”
I cover my mouth to stop from gasping. No one has ever stuck up for me like that. Not my mother and not the school counsellor I talked to. Everyone’s too scared of my father. He runs the biggest law firm in town, he knows every cop by their first name, he has the mayor over for dinner, and his generous donations keep half the town running. People shake his hand on the street. Everyone wants to stay on the right side of my father.
But Mr. Porter isn’t afraid of him. In fact, he’s threatening him, and all for me.
My heart beats wildly in my chest. Mr. Porter turns, and this time I notice his face isn’t just cute. It’shandsome. He’s hotter than Harry Styles, and he’s sticking up for me.
My body heats in a weird way, and my tummy flutters. As I listen to Mr. Porter telling my papa off, my heart rises out of my body and floats over to him. Now I know what love feels like, and I’m in love with Mr. Porter.
Eight years later…
