Don't Call Me Daddy - Page 11

it.

My first thought is that it could be a competitor, but this seems a bit old-school. They’d have to get into my computer if they wanted to find something useful, and they’d have an easier time doing that by hacking in remotely. My next thought is that it could be related to the loan shark my son was working with, but the loan shark is dead, and Hudson has dropped off the face of the earth.

I walk to my office and hear glass breaking. That sure as fuck better not be the bottle of whiskey in my desk.

My hand grabs the doorknob, and I rush into my office with my fist cocked, ready to drop whoever is on the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I stop short of throwing a punch when I see two girls on the other side of my door.

One of them I recognize from earlier—the zombie cheerleader who talked to me outside.

“Oh shit!” The other girl who is wearing an oversized ball gown and a masquerade mask locks eyes with me for a moment. “Ainsley, run!”

It takes me a moment to process what I’m seeing. My office is destroyed. It looks like a tornado went through it.

The girl in the oversized ball gown takes advantage of my confusion and rushes past me. Ainsley looks like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, and when she finally tries to run, I catch her arm.

“What the hell are you two doing?” I sling her forward—not enough to hurt her, but enough to position myself in front of her only option for escape.

“Sarah! Sarah, don’t leave me!” Ainsley has a look of panic on her face.

“I don’t think she’s coming back.” I glance over my shoulder and see the stairway door slam shut. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on here while I call the police.”

“We…” She stammers over her words and looks down at the floor.

“That’s fine, you can just tell the cops when they get here.” I pull out my phone and slide my finger across the screen.

“Wait, please don’t call the cops!” Ainsley takes a step toward me, and I see tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t want to do this! My friend... You fired her dad several years ago…”

“Oh?” I hesitate before I hit the final digit to dial 911. “I’ve only fired a few people from this company. It won’t be too hard to narrow it down.”

“Please, I don’t want to go to jail—not again.” Tears stream down her face and cut through the zombie makeup.

“It’s not the first time,” I scoff. “I’m not surprised.”

My finger continues to hover over my phone. Instinct is telling me just to call the cops and let them sort all of this out, but damn, this girl is in tears. She doesn’t look like some hardened criminal, and if what she said is true… Hell, what if my daughter had done something this stupid and got caught. I’d want someone to show her a little compassion.

Fuck, I didn’t think I still had a heart in my chest.

“Please, Mr. Brooks…” She looks up at me.

“Fine.” I shove my phone into my pocket. “I won’t call the cops, but you’re going to clean this fucking mess up.”

“Y-yes, sir.” She nods and turns to look around my office. “I’ll get started immediately.”

“Damn right you will.” I growl under my breath and walk to my desk. My compassion is rewarded by the sight of my bottle of whiskey, still intact.

I pour myself a drink and return my toppled chair to its upright position so I can sit down. The adrenaline rush I got when I saw my light on had pretty much killed my buzz. It’s going to take a few drinks to get it back. I should call the cops on her anyway just for ruining what was going to be a peaceful night of getting shit-faced drunk.

“I’m really sorry about this.” Ainsley pulls my trash can over and starts filling it with debris.

“Less talking, more working,” I grind out my response.

The faster she’s done, the faster I can get back to what I planned to do in the first place. I’m tempted to throw her out and finish it myself, but if I’m going to show compassion, there needs to be a lesson in it.

Fuck, I’m acting like a father instead of a victim. She looks like she’s too old to be told what to do, but she’s doing it. A little penance never hurt anybody, especially if they’re actually sorry for what they’ve done. I know that better than anyone. I just get mine from a bottle these days.

“I need to empty your trash can.” She looks down at it after it’s mostly full.

Tags: Kelli Callahan Romance
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