With His Protection (For His Pleasure, Book 15)

With His Protection (For His Pleasure, Book 15)

By Kelly Favor

© 2013 All Rights Reserved

Scarlett struggled to breathe.

She’d been prepared to see Terrence’s maniacal son, Trevor. Who else would chase her down the street and into this bookstore, relentlessly pursuing her like some madman out of a horror movie?

It could only be Trevor. Nobody else had any reason to follow her, to hound her like this. But she’d been wrong about that—utterly and completely wrong.

Standing in front of her was the very last person she’d ever expected to see.

And yet her he was, staring at her across the aisle of this bookstore, his face so different than all those years ago—yet somehow, she recognized him instantly. Her father’s eyes were unmistakable even now.

He was saying something, but she could hardly hear him above the noise in her own head.

Dad. Dear Dad, how I haven’t missed you after so much time gone by.

“Please, I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice pleading and desperate. He was smaller than she remembered, but that made sense. Last time she’d seen him, she’d been a child and now she was an adult. She was almost as tall as he was.

“You don’t have anything I want to hear,” she replied, eventually finding her voice. She started to try and move past him, but he held out his hands as if to block her.

“Scarlett—“

“How dare you?” she said. “How dare you frighten me like that? Who do you think you are?”

He looked down. His brown eyes were sad, his eyelids heavy, brow with deep furrows that only accented his sadness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you did. And I really don’t care what you have to say.”

He sighed deeply. When his eyes met hers again, she felt a pang of pity. But then she thought about what he’d put her through. He’d left her alone with her mother, the first abandonment of many. In a way, Scarlett thought, Dad had been quite the trendsetter.

Her father licked his lips. “Can you just give me five minutes? Just five minutes?”

She almost said yes. But then her stomach tightened as she recalled her childhood in a series of painful, lightning-quick flashes. “I would have liked to get five minutes from you when I was little. Five minutes to hug you, five minutes for you to hold me and tell me you loved me—five minutes for you to explain why you would leave your daughter and never attempt to see her again. But I didn’t get that, did I?”

He shook his head. “No, and for that I’m eternally ashamed.”

“That’s not my burden to carry,” she told him. “Now please let me go and don’t ever try and contact me again.”

“Okay.” He stepped aside, his face a mask of pain, as if she’d stabbed him.

Scarlett started to walk past him, trying to give him as wide a birth as possible in the narrow aisle.

“Can I just give you my card?” he said. “Just in case you ever decide you do want to hear what I have to say?”

She was well past him now, and with a few quick steps, she could be long gone before he knew it. But, for some inexplicable reason, Scarlett stopped. She was breathing heavily and adrenaline was coursing through her system. Still, something kept her from running away. She didn’t even look at him, just held out her hand. “Fine.

Hurry up.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he said, almost a whimper. She heard him dig through his wallet and then the card was in her hand, warm and worn. His fingers touched her hand briefly and she flinched away.

“I won’t be using it,” she informed him. “But I’ll take it if you’ll promise to leave me alone from now on.”

“I won’t bother you again.”

“Thank you.” She turned and quickly ran out of the bookstore, the tears blinding her as she made her way down the street. She glanced down, seeing the white rectangular card in her hand. She wanted to tear it up and throw it in the nearest garbage can, but she didn’t do it.

I’m not like him. I won’t shirk my responsibilities like he did. If I say I’ll keep his
stupid card, then I’ll keep it.

She continued walking, and eventually, after blocks and blocks, her heartbeat slowed and the adrenaline wore off.

The shock of it all was still reverberating in her bones. She felt violated somehow, as if her father had broken into her apartment or physically threatened her.

But at the same time, she pictured his timeworn face, how frail and small he’d looked, and a deep wave of sadness nearly overwhelmed her.

Finally, she hailed a cab and got inside, putting the business card inside her wallet in her purse. Meanwhile, the typical New York cabbie drove at high speeds down the busy street, always stopping at the last moment, narrowly avoiding one collision after another.

All taxis in New York had a small television screen in the partition between the front and back seat, and these mini TV’s showed a loop of news reports and quick special features that could be viewed on a relatively short drive.

Usually she ignored the mindless chatter and repetitive ads, but this time Scarlett watched it to try and get her mind off of what had just transpired at the bookstore with her father.

There was a segment about a new show opening on Broadway, and then they switched to a weather report.

“A nasty storm is poised just up the coast, and quickly headed our way,” the weatherman said, pointing to the map behind him and illustrating the pathway of a twirling white mass that could have signified anything. “If our projections are correct, this beast of a storm should hit the island of Manhattan in the late evening tomorrow. But it won’t really turn nasty until the following day, when heavy winds and rains could lead to power outages and flooding. Please make sure to heed your local warnings and safety directives from state officials.”

Seconds later, a clip of Jimmy Kimmel talking to Ashton Kutcher replaced the grim weather report.

None of it really held Scarlett’s full attention.

Instead, she’d continued to replay the brief exchange with her father in the bookstore. Should she have handled it differently? Thrown the card in his face, told him to leave her alone? Hugged him tightly and asked him to tell her everything?

She didn’t know. She was confused—her emotions were all over the place. It certainly didn’t help that she was still reeling from finding Eliza Johnston at Bryson’s apartment.

She couldn’t think of one man in her life that hadn’t let her down in one way or another.

Is it something about me?

Of course, common sense would dictate that it must be. It surely couldn’t be a coincidence that any man she’d ever put any degree of faith in, had betrayed her trust at almost every opportunity.

“Hello? Ma’am?” the driver was leaning back and staring at her.

Scarlett realized the cab had been at a standstill at the curb next to her apartment and she hadn’t even noticed it. “Oh, sorry,” she said, flustered. She pulled out twenty dollars and pushed it through the slot in the partition to him.

“Do you want change?”

“No, keep it.” She quickly got out, relishing the fresh air for a moment. But that feeling was short-lived.

As the cab took off, she wanted nothing more than to get inside her apartment, climb into bed, curl up beneath the covers and block out the world for a while. She felt more exhausted than she could remember having been for some time.

***

The ringtone from her cell phone woke her up. Her first thought was that it was Bryson, calling to apologize to her. Perhaps because she was just waking up and hadn’t yet gathered her defenses, Scarlett’s initial reaction was overwhelming happiness at the idea that he still cared.

But then reality set in, and she remembered what Bryson had done—the humiliation of it.

Bryson had chosen a night with Eliza Johnston over the relationship that had been developing with Scarlett. Scarlett really cared about him and he knew it, yet within hours of leaving her apartment, he’d opted to involve himself with that insufferable actress.

Well, she’s not just some actress—Eliza’s a gorgeous movie star. Maybe that has
something to do with his choice?

When Scarlett picked up the phone and saw that it wasn’t in fact Bryson calling, but Kallie, the anger turned quickly to relief (tinged with disappointment, of course).

It’s better that Kallie’s calling. I don’t ever want to see or hear from him again.

But this was a lie, and she knew it.

Scarlett answered her cell, trying to make her voice sound chipper. “Kallie, it’s been so long!” she cried.

“I know,” Kallie said. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch, but everything’s been so busy around here.”

“Busy in a good way, I hope.”

“Yes, definitely. Of course, there’s always bumps in the road,” Kallie chuckled.

Scarlett could imagine what she meant, and laughed in return. It felt good to laugh. It felt even better to talk to someone who she trusted.

“I miss you,” Scarlett said.

“I miss you too. And, I was hoping maybe you’d have some time today to get together.”

Scarlett sat up, brightening. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was still early afternoon, even though it felt as though she must have completely slept the day away. “I’d love to get together. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I need to start looking for my wedding dress,” Kallie said, sounding guilty.

“I hope that doesn’t sound super boring. I mean, we could totally do something fun like go out to dinner or drinks instead.”

“Are you kidding?” Scarlett cried. “Kallie, I’d love to go dress shopping with you.” Then she remembered what had happened when she assumed she was the only person invited to Nicole’s house the other night. “Is anyone else coming with?”

“I hadn’t planned on it, but we could invite someone if you’d like.”

“God, no. I just was curious. I’d love to go just the two of us.” Scarlett could hardly control the smile on her face.

“It’s a date,” Kallie said. She told Scarlett the name of the dress shop, and they agreed to meet two hours from then.

The moment Scarlett got off the phone, she made a beeline to the bathroom to shower and spruce up for the day. Despite everything that had happened, she felt determined not to let any of it take away from the positivity of Kallie’s invitation.

Soon, she was dressed in a pair of designer jeans and high boots, a cashmere sweater and Burberry coat. It was one of the only truly sophisticated casual outfits that Scarlett owned, and it was perfect for the occasion.

Before heading out the door, she had a blueberry muffin and Diet soda, hoping it would be enough to keep the hunger pains at bay while they looked for Kallie’s perfect wedding gown.

She took the subway to Fifth Avenue, and the entire way, she was edgy and nervous. Seeing her father had created a paranoid anxiety that was difficult to quell.

Every movement of every passing stranger set off her alarms, and Scarlett wanted to just hide her head in her hands until she arrived at the bridal store.

Dad told you he would leave you alone, she reminded herself.

It almost made her want to dig into her purse and look at his business card again, to examine it, as if was evidence from a crime scene. And in a way, she thought, perhaps it
was
evidence.

Her innocence had been stolen all those years ago, and now one of the original perpetrators had shown up out of nowhere and given her something that made it all more real.

It did happen to me. It wasn’t fair. And none of it was my fault
.

It was as if not a day had gone by, and she was a little girl once more.

But I’m not a little girl anymore. And I won’t let him create any more pain in my
life.

The train stopped and Scarlett got onto the platform amidst the crush of the other travelers. She wondered where Bryson was and what he was doing. She imagined him now, still with Eliza by his side, laughing and joking—perhaps even making love.

The thought made her insides clench with fury.

All of these men, what have any of them done for me? All they’ve done is cause
me pain. Why do I keep letting it go on? Why?

The question had no answer, and she let it go. Soon, she’d arrived at the high-end Bridal shop, where Kallie was waiting.

When Kallie spotted Scarlett coming, she threw out her arms in welcome. “You are a sight for sore eyes,” she said, and gathered Scarlett in for a huge, warm hug. “You look amazing, Scarlett.”

“Thanks,” Scarlett laughed, as they pulled back and looked at one another. “I think you’re the one who looks amazing, though.” And it was true—Kallie positively glowed. Her skin was healthy and flawless—her eyes clear, her hair shining. She looked a world away and ten years younger than when they’d been at the hospital together, as Hunter had fought for his life.

“Okay, maybe we both look amazing.” Kallie winked. “Are you ready to do some shopping?”

“I’m more ready than you could imagine.”

“Okay, onward.” Kallie led the way inside, where a raven-haired woman greeted them with practiced enthusiasm.

“My name is Clara Dean, and you must be Kallie Young,” she said, shaking Kallie’s hand.

“That’s me. And this is my good friend, Scarlett.”

“Oh, lovely,” Clara said, meeting Scarlett’s gaze with her huge brown eyes. “And you’ll be helping Kallie pick out her wedding dress? That’s quite an honor.”

Scarlett smiled, her cheeks turning red. She did feel honored, especially when Kallie had called her a good friend.

“So, let’s go take a look at our inventory, shall we?” Clara asked, walking towards a veritable wall of dresses. As she walked, she talked. In fact, Scarlett realized, she didn’t often stop speaking, except perhaps to breathe once in a while. The woman kept up a running commentary that was almost hypnotic to listen to. She talked about different styles, different weddings, she name-dropped celebrities who she’d worked with, and then she talked about women who’d cried when they found that perfect dress.

Eventually, Kallie’s smile faded, as Clara talked and talked.