Please, Daddy (Love, Daddy)

And my blood turns to ice.

My fingers curl around the cold steel handle of my gun, while my thumb flips open the snap holding it in the holster.

The man that presented himself as Kezia’s father is sitting in a wooden chair, holding a long, knotty cane.

It’s what’s at the end of that cane that very well may end his life this morning.

It’s Kezia.

She’s curled into a ball, cowering inside a wooden crate fashioned into some sort of cage, barely big enough for her tiny, tucked body. Thadius is banging on the top with the gnarled end of his cane.

“What is your job?” he asks, as homicidal thoughts flood my brain.

To kill you, motherfucker.

“To distract. To do as I’m told. To serve the family.” Kezia’s soft voice shakes. I try to suppress a growl as rage bubbles inside of me.

He slams the cane down on the top of the box five times and I see Kezia wince and curl tighter with each blow.

“You say the words but you do not follow through with your actions!” he bellows, standing now, stepping to the wooden crate and looking down. “You kissed him. I overheard you telling Genevieve.” He locks his jaw then continues. “You are not to be touched by them. You are to be untouched. Your value to the family is partly your beauty but also your purity. If it is discovered you let an outsider touch you, I will lose many thousands of dollars, Kezia, and that is not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers and I’m not listening to anything more.

The beast inside of me is ready to tear his skin off as I make my way around to the front of the tent and rip my way through the flaps of fabric that serve as the door, my pistol pulled.

Her father spins, his cane in the air, and I give him a look that lets him know he’s half a twitch away from a bullet in his brain.

“Merrick.” I hear Kezia’s voice but I’m focused on the fucker in front of me.

I reach out and jerk the cane from his hand, throwing it into the corner but keeping my gun pinned on him. Then I step forward, and in a single movement I rip the top of the cage holding my girl off its hinges and throw it at him.

“You okay, baby?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the man who is staring at me without fear.

“I’m okay,” Kezia answers as I offer my free hand and help her out of the box. “Don’t hurt him.”

I swallow the hatred gathered in my throat as I push her behind me, then close the space between me and her father, reaching up and grabbing his throat with one hand and shoving the barrel of my gun into his gut.

“You’re fucking lucky she’s here. Only reason you’re alive is I don’t want her to watch you die.”

“You are a man of the law. I am unarmed. It would be murder.” He chokes out the words as my fingers crush his windpipe.

“Look in my eyes, do you think I give a shit what they would call it? Besides, I caught you in the commission of a felony, forcible imprisonment and torture, domestic abuse…You fought me as I tried to free Kezia. I know the fucking law.” I shrug. His eyes narrow but he shrinks back, mouth open as I cut off the little air reaching his lungs.

I release his throat, cock back and hammer my fist upward under his jaw, throwing him back three feet to where he lands in a pile of dust, out cold.

I spin, grabbing Kezia’s hand and march us out of this medieval torture chamber toward the truck.

As we make our way outside, a voice sounds from behind another tent.

“Psst.” I look over, Kezia oblivious next to me and I see one of the girls that took her from me earlier. “Take care of her. Please.” I open my mouth to answer, but she’s gone and I don’t want to wait another second to get my baby away from this place but make a note to ask her later who the dark haired girl is.

I get Kezia inside the truck, buckled in, and finally holster my gun when I look behind me and see no one watching. I throw the car into drive and spin in the dirt, knowing now that I’ve got her back with me, I’m never letting her go again.

“I’m sorry I left you here. I knew something was wrong, I should have followed my instinct. My sweet little girl, I may never let you out of my sight again.” I reach over and brush the dust from her cheeks. Dried trails of tears cut through the dirt and I never want to see her cry. My gut feels like a coiled viper ready to strike anyone that dares come close right now.