Tyrant Daddy by Isabella Starling

Chapter 9

Willa

"I... I can't stay any longer. I'm going to be sick."

"Wait, Willa. Don't leave, we haven't even started having fun yet."

I stumble away from him, my head hazy from those drinks I shouldn't have had. In my panic, I miss the hallway leading outside and blindly scramble to get away from Davis who's already coming after me. And I know what will happen when he gets his claws on me. I know he's going to do the same thing he repeatedly did to me all those years ago.

I stumble onto the balcony and grip the railing, my knuckles whitening from the force I'm holding the fence with.

"Don't be silly, Willa. Come back inside. We're going to have some fun."

Davis leans lazily against the balcony door, smirking at me as he takes another sip of his drink. My skin is crawling at the sight of him. I'd do anything to be rid of him, to get the fuck away.

I eye the distance that separates the balcony from the ground below and get dizzy from the view. The people look like ants from up here. I would never in a million years survive the fall. And yet I'm contemplating it.

"Get away from me," I whisper. "Don't ever come near me again."

"Why not? You were so very willing to let any fucking man out there have your pussy." Davis' demeanor changes in in instant. The creases in his forehead deepen, and out of nowhere, he throws his glass against the wall, making me flinch. "Any fucking man, Willa. I couldn't believe it. You wouldn't let me fuck you. You resisted me. And now you're selling that sweet pussy to anyone who wants it?"

I'm so afraid, I don't dare say a word in response. I just stand there, trembling as he approaches me and wraps his meaty arms around me.

"Stop running from me, Willa. You know we were meant to be."

He tries to press his sloppy lips against mine, but I turn my head to the side, repulsed by his presence. This only makes him angrier, though.

I’m helpless in his grip as he lifts me from the ground and forces me over the rail, holding me there with my torso dangling over the street below.

"No!" I shriek. "Let me go!"

"Might want to rethink those words, sweet thing," he laughs in my ear. "Unless you want to meet your end right here and right now?"

I shake my head wildly, tears already falling from my face. "Please put me down."

Finally, he does. I pull away from him and grab a shard of the broken glass from the floor. It cuts into my skin, but I pay the trickle of blood down my palm no mind as I wave my makeshift weapon at Davis, "You come one step closer and I'll cut the shit out of you!"

"Sure, sweet thing." He laughs at me again, not taking me seriously at all. The prick takes a step forward and I throw myself at him like a banshee, stabbing the glass into his lip and making him reel back and curse out loud as blood spurts from the wound. "Crazy fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

With adrenaline pumping, I spin round and race to the elevator. He’s cussing out every fuck as he stumbles after me, blood dripping through his fingers. I'm still gripping the shard of glass and I have every intention of sticking it in his eye if he tries anything else.

With bloody fingers, I hit the elevator button, and almost scream with relief when the doors immediately open. I get in, repeatedly hitting the ground floor button. Davis disappears out of view as the doors close, the gruesome injury that's split his mouth open replaying in my mind like some fucked up shot out of a revenge porn.

I get out in the lobby, ignoring the fact that I'm spattered in blood and trembling as I run into the street. There are two cops nearby, so I blend into the evening crowd and try to steady my breath as I start walking somewhere, anywhere.

I become a girl that belongs among everybody else. A girl with a boring family background, with no drama surrounding her, a girl who can blend right in. My heartrate slows down, and I force myself to relax. I try to push Davis out of my mind, telling myself he'll never try to come for me again. Not now that I've finally shown him just what I'm capable of.

I will kill the bastard if he ever lays a finger on me again.

I still can't believe the fucked-up game he played to get me caught in his web. But I'm not going to fall for it ever again. From now, I'm going to trust only Raphael, and I'll never meet anyone else from the app. It's not safe. Not with monsters like my stepfather walking on the streets.

My thoughts circle back to Raphael, and I realize I've been circling the area that his office building is in.

I've been avoiding it for over a week, seeing him. But suddenly I have the strong desire to walk right into that office and take my feminine power back into my hands.

I'll never let an abuser like Davis touch me again.

And I'll forget the abuse I suffered because of him. Raphael will help me with that. I know he will.

I check my phone and find several unanswered calls from Dove and Nox. Biting my lower lip, I push a shaky hand through my hair. Fuck, are they getting suspicious? Did they figure out I snuck out?

Either way, there's nothing I can do now. I can either enjoy my night or go back home to the punishment I'll undoubtedly receive – and I'm certainly not looking forward to the latter.

I realize I’ve walked right up to Raphael’s office building.

The temptation to go up there is strong, but I know I look like a mess. I’m covered in bloodstains, my hand is still bleeding, and I look like a mess. But I need to be comforted, and I know neither Nox nor Dove can give me what I need. So, I take a deep breath and buzz through to Raphael’s office.

“Hello.” His commanding voice comes through on the intercom. It’s late – I’m guessing there’s nobody else in the building but him and the cleaners.

“Hi.” The word comes out as a timid squeak, and I flush. “It’s me, Willa.”

He doesn’t say a word. For a moment, I’m convinced he won’t let me in, but then the doors open for me and my heart falls into my stomach as I walk into the marble lobby. I take a deep breath and press the elevator button. Inside, I check my reflection in the mirror, but quickly turn around so I’m not facing it. I look like a freaking mess.

Once the elevator stops on the penthouse floor, I breathe out and force myself to collect my thoughts before exiting onto the floor of Raphael’s office.

He’s already waiting for me, his powerful arms crossed as his eyes meet mine across the room. He takes one look at my appearance and groans, taking several steps closer and embracing me in his arms. I take a whiff of his darkly intoxicating scent, instantly feeling calmer. But as his arms come to rest around my body, shielding me from all the ugly things in the world, I feel myself coming undone.

I start to sob. It starts with a single cry ripping itself from my lips, but I soon dissolve into tears. And Raphael holds me throughout it all.

“What happened?” he mutters in my ear, gently intertwining my fingers with his. I hiss when his skin comes in contact with my cut from the glass shard. “Fuck, Willa. What the fuck did you do?”

I don’t get a chance to answer. He picks me up in his strong arms and carries me into his office, where he sets me down to sit on a leather armchair. Next thing I know, he’s got a first-aid kit on his lap and he’s cleaning the gash on my palm.

“Does it need stitches?” I manage to get out in a choked sob. “I’m afraid of that, please don’t make me go to the hospital.”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Raphael plasters the cut after cleaning it. “Just keep it covered and then change the bandage every day. I can do it for you if you want.”

“Nox… Err, my mom and dad can do it,” I whisper. “It’s okay.”

He nods, gently placing my hands back in my lap. Now that the crisis has been averted, the tension in the air is suddenly thick as fuck.

Raphael puts away the first-aid box and comes to sit next to me. “I thought you’d never show up, trouble. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I met someone from the app.”

Fuck. I had every intention of lying, but something about this man makes me lower my defenses and I can’t help but tell him the truth.

“You did?” His brows shoot up and his hands tighten into fists. He looks pissed, but not at me. “He did this to you?”

“No, I...” I swallow thickly, managing a weak smile. “I got into a mess myself.”

“But what happened? How did you cut your hand?”

I can’t believe he hasn’t guilt-tripped me for meeting another man yet. I fully believed he’d be pissed off with me. That my mistake would’ve cost me his company, that he’d push me away once he found out, and I’d never be allowed to see him again.

But right now, Raphael only seems concerned about one thing – my safety.

“The man... he was someone I knew. He tricked me into meeting him by promising me money.”

“Who was it?”

Nervously, I chew my bottom lip. “I haven’t told you much about my life. But before I was adopted... I lived with my mom and stepfather. And when Mom died, my stepfather... he became even more abusive. After that I ran away, and I was living alone, on the street for a while, until... until Dove, my adoptive mom, found me and took me in. They legally adopted me.”

“So, this man, he was...”

“My stepfather,” I whisper.

“Did he hurt you in the past?”

I can tell he’s trying to keep any kind of emotion out of his voice but it’s not working well. Raphael’s tone is shaking with the weight of what I’m about to say. And now I’m no longer worried about myself. Instead, I’m afraid of what he’s going to do to Davis if he ever gets his hands on the creep.

“Yes,” I nod. “He... he touched me when I was little.”

Raphael shoots out of his seat, refusing to look at me. “Where is he now?”

“Please, Raphael.” I turn my pleading eyes to his. “Don’t do this, not right now. He’ll stay away from now on. I just... I just needed to tell someone.”

“Your parents don’t know?”

I shake my head miserably. “I can’t tell them about the app.”

Raphael doesn’t question my motives and doesn’t ask why I went against his direct orders to not meet anyone else from the app. Instead, he asks me for my stepfather’s name and types it into his phone, firing off a text.

“What’s going to happen to him?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“Nothing he doesn’t deserve.” Raphael pockets his phone before carrying over a glass of water and two small white pills. “Take these. One will stop any infection, the other will stop it from hurting.”

Obediently, I swallow down the pills and pour the contents of the glass down my throat. The pills feel sticky and unpleasant, but I can feel the pain easing off in minutes while Raphael steps outside to make a quick phone call. I’m curious to find out more, but I know I shouldn’t ask – it will make me complicit in whatever is about to happen to my stepfather.

Not that I don’t want Davis to get fucking hurt – the prick deserves it. I just wish I hadn’t gotten Raphael involved. He surely doesn’t need my drama, and is probably already regretting inviting me up here.

Once Raphael comes back inside, he gives me a thunderous look. “Your parents know where you are?”

Wordlessly, I shake my head and he groans, running his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

“We need to get you home, Willa.”

“No.” I plead with him silently as our eyes meet. “Please, Raphael. I can’t bear being yelled at by my parents right now.”

“They need to know you’re safe or they’ll be worried sick, trouble.”

I don’t answer, just bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood.

Raphael kneels before me, gently making me release my lip from the vice-like grip I have on it.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he mutters softly. “Not anymore. I’m going to help you, okay?”

I nod weakly.

“But first, you need to let your parents know that you’re okay. Send a text to your mom, alright, trouble?”

I groan at the thought, but he gently encourages me until I pull out my phone. I have dozens of missed calls, and my fingers shake as I fire off a text to Dove letting her know I’m safe and I’ll be home the next day. She instantly calls me, but I turn off my phone and place it on the coffee table in Raphael’s office.

“Good girl,” he mutters.

This time, the words don’t give me that horrible icky feeling like they did when Davis uttered them. Instead, they feel warm, welcoming and kind, like a hug.

Raphael takes my hands in his and kisses them, though his expression is darkened by anger. “Now, what are we going to do about you disobeying me, trouble?”