Mastering Her Heart (Love, Daddy 2)

I sit back in the bedside chair and cross my legs. The next few minutes the story tumbles out of me, leaving me feeling like a black cloud is about to spill rain all over us both.

“Really.” She pinches her bright red lips together. The lipstick beginning to seep into the tiny wrinkles around her mouth. Her face turns from angry to amused in the space of a second.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m having a good day, Willow. I may not remember what I had for breakfast. Or who’s running our country. But sometimes I remember things just as clear as they happened. And I think I’ve got something that may help you today.”

“Who do you think you are, little girl?” Derrick wads up the paper in his hand and throws it from across the conference table at me, hitting me in the shoulder.

He would be attractive if he wasn’t so ugly on the inside. But all I see is the well-dressed entitled smirk and I want to kick his stupid overly whitened teeth down his gullet.

Every muscle in my body is trembling but I keep my feet planted firmly on the colorful rug of the conference room at Stern & Bergman, the law office where Derrick is one of the prize defense attorneys. Shocking, perhaps, that he’s made a career out of defending the rich from crimes that would have a regular Joe incarcerated so fast your head would spin. But in their world that’s a fair result. Money talks.

And Derrick’s family thinks they are untouchable. My mother thinks I’m her pawn. Well, today things are going to change. I’m going to change. I’ve picked up my phone to text or call Pike ten times since I left Maisy but put the phone down every time because today I’m going to stand on my own two feet.

It doesn’t mean I’m not still scared. It just means I’m not going to be frozen by that fear any longer. When I get into the office, Derrick’s there but his father is nowhere to be found. Derrick made some excuse about his father being called to an emergency meeting but my fear immediately re-doubles knowing without anyone else here anything could happen.

I push through and deliver the letter into his hand anyway. Watching as Derrick’s face goes from smug to furious.

“So, that’s not the contrite apology you were expecting? I’m so sorry.” I snap, watching Derrick’s face turn red. His frustration isn’t hidden by his hand made suit or blood red tie. I think if I wait here just a little longer I will leave sprayed with blood from his exploding big, fat head.

My palms are sweating and my heart is racing but I’ve never felt more powerful. More free.

“You little bitch.” He shakes his head and starts to walk around the conference table. The floor to ceiling windows are letting in the morning light and it’s casting a halo around his dark form. His slicked back, black hair shines under the conference room’s fluorescent lights. He is big, too. Bigger than I remember. With balled fists at his sides. A monster, stalking towards me. A nightmare from my own past. Finally, my resolve shows its first crack as I take a step back.

“So we’re done here?” I shrug my shoulder and turn on my heel, my heart starting to pound. My hands grip the strap on my bag as I force myself to focus and take a side step toward the door.

“Oh no. We are not fucking done here. We are so far from fucking done, Willow.” Derrick comes up from behind me and snatches my arm, pulling me backward and nearly off my feet.

My mind is blank. No words will form. I can feel my fury and fear and shame all rising up inside like bile.

“You are not going to do this.” He laughs in my face. “You’ll end up with nothing. Your mother will cut you off. My family will be sure you lose your little job, Willow Bainbridge. Your mother’s firm will lose the Axix account and she will never forgive you. You know that’s true.”

I jerk my arm back, tearing it from his grip. Fear turns my head to a buzzing shell. But I count. One, two, three... Centering myself. Four, five, six, seven... I feel taller and above all his threats. Eight, nine, ten... I can do this.

“Do you think my mother really cares about you? Or all this?” I lean down to pick up the wadded paper off the floor and toss i

t right back in his face, hitting him square between the eyes.

His eyebrows come together and I see the vein in his forehead standing out under his skin.

“You don’t know how this works, Willow.” He spits the words at me.

“Oh, I do. Very well. I grew up in the same world you did. I just didn’t let it turn me into an inhuman creature like you. I know my mother. I know what she wants. And it has nothing to do with you and your reputation. You’re not winning this time, Derrick. I’m showing up for the game this time. Suited up, so get ready, don’t forget I’ve been taught by the best how to play.”

His face twists. His hands fly up. And before I can get a scream from my throat they are around my throat, and the pressure makes me panic.

“You fucking fat, little cunt whore bitch. If you show anyone that report...You always thought you were better than everyone didn’t you? Little high and mighty princess. I know your type. I know what you want. What you need. You pretend to be all innocent but I know better.” His wet lips spray spit into my face as he cuts off the air from my lungs. My hands pull and tear at his wrists but his grip is like forged steel.

My purse falls from my shoulder and for a moment I remember his face the night of the party. Glimpses and flashes of him, angry and red faced, just like he is now. I remember telling him ‘No’ and that set him off just like now.

I can feel my eyes bulging. My face feels ready to explode. He is looking at me with such hatred and for a split second I wonder if this is really happening or if it’s some sort of flashback. How can this be the final moment of my life? All because a boy wouldn’t take responsibility for his actions. Because he couldn’t get what he wanted.

“You were the only girl at Wentworth that ever turned me down, you know that? Well, guess what? I’m taking what I didn’t take that night. I’m taking it all this time.” The tendons in his neck stand up above his pressed white shirt collar as his jaw muscles clench.

He slams me, face down, over the conference table, making the crystal water glasses in the center jump with the force. His hands release my neck and all I can do is gulp grateful air, only barely aware of him, tearing at my skirt from behind. In one motion, he lifts it up, pushing it over my ass as his leg pushes its way between my own, forcing them apart.

My ears are ringing from the impact of the side of my head against the wood. Derrick is three times my size, but I can’t let him do this again. I do my best to kick back at him. I flail my arms, desperate to reach any part of him. To stop it before it starts.