Avenging Angel (Pounding Hearts 5)

Bree

The last two weeks have been hands down both the best and worst two weeks of my life.

Spending my days at the gym and my nights in Emmett’s bed…

I’ve never been happier.

So happy, I almost feel content.

But I know from personal experience, nothing good ever lasts.

In Emmett’s arms, with his kisses pressed against my skin and his whispered words of sweet devotions echoing in my ears, I can push it all away. I can shut out the rest of the world, focusing on only us and where all our broken pieces connect.

I can completely immerse myself in the fantasy and pretend that what we’re doing can go on forever… that this is our love story and we’re guaranteed a happy ending.

But real life doesn’t work like that.

Fuck, my life never works like that.

I feel it every time I’m away from him and remember all the shit I still have waiting on my plate for me. Problems that don’t go away when left unattended. Problems that only fester and mold the longer they’re left sitting there.

It’s been three days since my father has sent me a text. I haven’t had the balls to speak to him since I gave him a flimsy excuse for standing him up for that dinner at the Bellagio. He’s tried to schedule five more dinners since, and I’ve ignored every single one of them, knowing full well that it would eventually come to back to bite me in the ass.

So, when I drive up the driveway to my mom’s house to pick up some clothes for the week, I’m not surprised to see his limo parked out front. Not surprised, but devastated nonetheless.

I thought we’d have more time…

God, I just need a little more time with Emmett and Casey. A little more time to feel like a normal human being. A little more time to bottle up some of this happiness. To preserve it and cherish it.

I haven’t even been able to work up the courage to tell Emmett the truth yet. Fuck. He has no clue.

My foot eases down on the gas, my body carrying out the impulse to speed away before I even comprehend what I’m doing.

But then my father’s driver pops out of the limo, waving his arms frantically to flag me down. Before I can swerve past the limo, the crazy bastard actually jumps in front of my car, forcing me to slam on my brakes.

Jerking forward, I let out a scream and my arms tighten to keep me from going into the steering wheel. Bouncing back against my seat, I blink stupidly out of the windshield, my heart and breathing racing with a rush of adrenaline.

Shock still buzzes through my brain as the driver, palms planted on my hood, calls out, “Ms. Madison, your father would like a word with you.”

The door beside me suddenly pops open and my father’s personal bodyguard, Aaron, reaches across me and pushes my gear stick into park.

“What the hell, Aaron?” I snap out, still struggling to accept the shit that’s happening as he reaches down and expertly and efficiently unbuckles my seatbelt.

Jaw tightening, he grits out, “You heard him, your father wants to speak with you.”

Then he grabs me by the arm and hauls me out of the car.

Never, never in my life have I ever been treated like this. Treated like I’m not a person, but an object to be moved.

I try to jerk my arm out of Aaron’s hand, but his grip only tightens painfully around me as he drags me across the driveway.

What the fuck is happening. Seriously, what the fuck is happening?

The driver, now standing at the back of the limo, sniffs and gives me a contemptuous look as he pulls the door open.

I only have a split-second to gawk at him before Aaron shoves me roughly into the limo and closes the door behind me.

Hands and knees landing on the backseat, my father’s cool voice hits me just as I push myself up. “Hello, Aubrey. So glad you could finally make time for me.”