Six months of them being worried fucking sick.
Her father nearly crying with relief when he talked to me on the phone.
Why, Pet?
Why?
I didn’t say a word. Instead, I pulled her into my lap and held her close, her head resting in the crook of my arm while we drove towards the restaurant.
She nearly stumbled when she stepped outside, but I caught her hand and helped her into the building. I felt so many pairs of eyes on us as we walked inside. And why shouldn’t they look? We were a good-looking couple. Let them fucking stare.
I led Pet to my usual table. Her parents were already there, fidgeting in their seats. Their faces brightened as soon as they saw her, though her dad’s expression was a little shocked when he noticed the transformation of his beautiful daughter.
Mea culpa.
I smiled at them and shook their hands.
They were both kind people. Simple, but kind.
The theory of either of her parents abusing her, or even knowing about it, disappeared from my thoughts as soon as we sat down. Pet sat between her mother and me, and the woman, Sylvie, placed a hand on hers and stared at her adoringly.
“Sweetheart, we’ve missed you so much,” she told her. “You have no idea how worried–”
“Have you ordered?” I cut in smoothly.
“Err,” Pet’s father looked embarrassed. “The menu’s in French, I believe. We’re not really fluent.”
“Would you like me to recommend my favorite?” I asked.
“That would be fantastic,” Pet’s father, Robert said.
I ordered for the whole table, though Pet cut in and changed her order from the duck to the chicken. I was pretty sure it was only so she could prove to her parents she was still somewhat in charge. I knew she hated chicken, called it dry every time we had it. But I let her do it, and even gave her a smile.
The conversation was stilted at first. Her parents seemed desperate to find out what had happened, and Pet kept steering the chat away from that. Sensing the discomfort at the table, I finally took matters into my own hands.
“Your daughter is absolutely lovely,” I told Sylvie, and she beamed with pride. “I haven’t met a young woman as talented, beautiful or… stubborn as she is.”
Pet rolled her eyes and my hand sneaked under the table, squeezing her thigh. She nearly jumped in her chair.
“We always knew Sapphire would be successful,” Robert told me with a grin. “She always had that special something.”
“Well, you must know,” I said, “I have every intention of pushing her to her limits.”
Pet shifted uncomfortably but her parents nodded obliviously.
“I’ll make sure she’s used to her full potential,” I added, almost feeling her discomfort.
“We truly appreciate it, Mr. King,” Sylvie gave a solemn nod.
“Please,” I said, “call me Hayden.”
I fucking hated that name.
“Hayden,” she smiled.
“I must ask,” Robert said. “What exactly is your… relationship with our daughter?”
I stroked Pet’s thigh. Her skin was hot to the touch. Almost scalding. But I smiled smoothly as if the question didn’t bother me at all.
“I would say we’ve gotten very close in a relatively short time,” I said. “I can safely say your daughter means a lot to me, and I think the world of her. I only hope she thinks the same of me.”
They ate up my words, though Pet glared at me through the rest of dinner.
Her parents ate their food with gusto, relaxing with each glass of wine the maître d’ poured for them. Just as well.
I peppered the conversation with the questions I needed answers to.
What was she like as a child?
Did she have any friends that left, maybe moved away?
Big family?
Religious?
I felt her eyes on me. Felt her getting angrier and angrier as the dinner went on. When I asked about her moods when she was younger, she pushed my hand off her lap and pushed her plate away.
I didn’t give a shit. I needed to know. I needed to know every fucking brain cell in that head of hers if I wanted to make her mine, really mine. And I didn’t give a fuck if she liked it or not.
Her parents remained oblivious, and answered every question in detail. Not that it helped, or brought me any closer to the truth.
We said our goodbyes two hours later, with Sylvie and Robert tipsy, and Pet furious.
“Sapphire, you have to promise to stay in touch,” her mother begged. The wine she’d had added a tone of desperation to her voice as she clung to her daughter’s hand.
“I will,” Pet said noncommittally.
“Are you safe?” her dad asked. “Where are you staying?”
Pet looked away uncomfortably.
“She’s perfectly safe, Robert,” I promised her father. “She’s staying with me.”
He seemed both surprised and relieved by that information.
“And here,” I added, pulling out a business card and scribbling on it. “Pet’s…”
Fuck.
“Sapphire’s number.”
I smiled them a charming smile, and it seemed as if they hadn’t noticed. Pet was glaring at me, though, but I pretended not to feel the intensity of her gaze.