Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance(31)

Clearly, I f*cked up and I had no clue how to fix it.

I’d never been in a position like this before. In the past, if some chick got pissed about something I did, I just walked away from her. I didn’t have time for petty bullshit drama. This was different, though. This was all my fault, although that never really mattered in the past. Suddenly I gave a shit if I hurt Emily, probably because I cared about her more than just for her body. I cared about her as a person, and I was finding myself ever more drawn to her with each minute we spent together.

As I entered the office building and rode the elevator up, I couldn’t believe I was obsessing about this. I really wouldn’t have given it a second thought just a year ago, or maybe I would have if it were Emily. Maybe I was changing, but maybe also I had found someone that I wanted for more than just her * and her lips. Emily wasn’t just a piece of ass for me.

I kept seeing her face as she stormed away from me. It was so vulnerable, so clearly broken and hurt. It probably took a lot for her to do what she did that night, to come into my room in person and put herself out there like that. Having me turn her down was probably a nightmare for her, and something she was really terrified of. I was such a stupid ass.

I just wished I could explain. I’d try again later, after work, after she had some time to process and calm down. Evelyn was probably right, she just needed a breather.

Still, the look on her face would haunt me. That pure hurt, and all because of me.

I got into my office, depressed and angry. It took me a couple of minutes before I noticed the note that was left on the side of my desk, folded over once and with my name on it.

I unfolded it, assuming it was something from Evelyn. Instead, it was another note with letters cut out from magazines, and it scared the f*ck out of me.

Carter, You will be Hurt very soon. Watch Out for that Daughter of yours. She’s in Danger. Step down Or Else.

I read the note one more time then immediately called Cox. I explained the situation to him and he agreed to double security.

“Where’s Emily right now?” I asked him.

“I’m not sure, sir,” he admitted. “She’s not showing up on the monitors.”

“Can you find her? Make sure she’s okay.”

“Of course.

“Good. Do it now.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair. I reread the note two more times before standing up.

Fuck waiting around for Cox to do something. I didn’t need to be in the office. What I needed was to make sure that Emily was safe, and I was going to feel like a piece of shit if I just sat around doing nothing.

I had to find her. I’d show her the notes and explain to her what had happened the night before. She’d have to understand.

I was going to keep her safe. I quickly left my office, ignoring Evelyn’s questions as I continued forward, set on my purpose.





19





Emily





My phone started ringing and it took all of my energy to look over and check it. I felt my stomach fall as I saw Carter’s name on the screen, and I quickly looked away from it.

I’d spent all day so far sitting by the pool, trying not to feel totally mortified. I was bored, embarrassed, and angry at everything that had happened so far. I wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from the mansion, but I knew that I couldn’t do it.

There was some commotion up at the main house, but I just ignored it. I had no interest in whatever stupid crisis was happening. None of it mattered to me anymore, not after that horribly embarrassing situation the night before.

I couldn’t even think about it without getting angry all over again. The fact that Carter would do that to me shocked me, but also drove me insane.

I took a deep breath and turned my phone off. I couldn’t let this distract me and get me angry all over again. I had just nearly fallen asleep but suddenly I was wide awake, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

I had to get up. I tossed my towel aside and dove into the pool. I started swimming laps, drowning out everything else but the repetitive motion of stroke after stroke. I’d get to the other end, do a turn, kick off the wall, and continue to the other side. Over and over I swam, not too fast but not too lazy either. I wanted to tire myself out, work some of the tension from my muscles. I wanted to feel sore by the time I was finished, sore like the ache between my legs that lingered from Carter.

It was impossible not to think about him, at least a little bit. He kept sliding into my consciousness, getting past my defenses, inserting himself into my mind. I resented that a lot, that I could just swim laps without thinking about that *. He wasn’t so important that I had to obsess about him, that arrogant ass.

I didn’t know how much time passed, but I just kept swimming. Eventually, I could feel the fatigue setting in. I felt heavy in the water and my strokes came harder with each new lap. As I hit the wall and turned to start another lap, I noticed someone standing at the side of the pool.I stopped swimming and looked up, surprised to see Carter himself standing there, gesturing at me.

“What do you want?” I called out to him.

“Get out of the pool,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

I made a face. “You don’t order me around.”

He shook his head, an urgent look on his face. “It’s important. Did Cox talk to you?”