Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
The truck bounces free of the potholes, breaking out of the trees into the meadow, and an icy shiver works its way down my spine.
Lena's little blue car is missing.
"Fuck," I growl, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. My heart pounds like it's trying to break free of my chest. She can't be gone. She fucking can't.
I hit the gas, roaring up the gravel driveway. The truck is barely in park before I shove the door open and leap out, scanning wildly as if that's going to make her car materialize.
Anxiety twists in my stomach, sharper than the barbed wire I just strung up. There's a part of me that's terrified she woke up this morning, horrified by the way I claimed her last night. She wanted it in the moment, but I'm supposed to protect her, even if it means protecting her from herself. She was distraught, too upset to know what she was asking.
And I fucked her with an unconscious man at our feet. Christ. The darkness of the act was too much for a sweet little thing like her. Of course it was. She's an angel, sweet and pure. And I've dragged her deep into kink and sin, defiling her in every way imaginable.
I should've been her sanctuary, not the storm. I'm the worst kind of Daddy—a goddamn monster trying to claim a princess.
The realization threatens to tear me apart, guilt riding me hard.
As I stand there, the empty cabin taunting me, I feel the cracks forming in my fucking soul. Lena, my sweet, playful little brat who drives me out of my goddamn mind with desire…is gone.
It's unbearable.
She's the light in my life, the only fucking thing that makes any sense. She's the only one capable of dancing through my defenses and making me want the things I never dared to admit before—family, a home, love.
Without her, none of it means a goddamn thing.
"Christ," I mutter, possessive rage and fear roiling in my guts. "What did you do to me, little girl?"
I think back to the way she looked up at me last night, so trusting, so damn innocent even when I was driving into her like my life depended on it, even when we were fucking each other raw.
I gave her every piece of my soul in that moment. She can't give it back now. I need her. Need her laughter, her softness, her teasing. I need to hear her call me 'Daddy' in that sweet, sultry tone that tells me she's mine, all mine.
I've never believed in fate or destiny. I've always believed we forge our own, that we get in this life only what we fight and claw for—but she's changed my mind. Because she was made for me, molded from pieces of my soul—to challenge me, to love me, to consume me again and again.
I need her more than I've ever needed to breathe or survive. I need her. And whether she knows it or not, she needs me the same way.
I'm her air, her armor, and her shelter. She needs me to ground her, to keep her safe, and to let her fly.
"Shit. Get it together, Carver." I run a hand over my face, trying to think. I have to find her, have to make sure she's safe. One way or another, I have to show her that I can be the Daddy she deserves, that I'm not just some beast driven by his kinks and obsessions.
I'm going to find her. It's not a point of negotiation.
I climb back into my truck, revving the engine as I slam the door and pull off, the need to find her overwhelming everything else.
I should be fucking terrified right now, trembling at the idea of losing her. But instead, determination pours through me in a flood.
She's mine. My sweet little brat. My playful tease. My innocent angel.
I won't rest until she's back in my arms, safe and sound.
"I'm coming, pretty baby," I whisper. "I promise, Daddy's coming for you."
Chapter Nine
Lena
By the time I make it back to the cabin, it's nearly dark…and Carver's truck is nowhere to be found. I sit in my car for a long time, staring blankly at the cabin, confusion swirling through me.
Where is he? Why did he just leave?
It doesn't make sense.
But as the shadows around the cabin deepen and his truck still doesn't rumble up the gravel driveway, anxiety begins to set in. I drag myself out of the car and force myself to go inside.
The cabin feels empty and cold without him. My gaze darts to the table where I left my note, only to find it still there, untouched.
He hasn't been back at all.
Pain squeezes my chest in a cruel vise, doubts crowding in no matter how hard I try to force them out again. I've been so sure of him…but what if he's not as sure of me?