Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls) (29 page)

That
way if the police needed a witness to her murder, at least one person would
know who killed her.

It
was only when she reached the outer door to her father's office, the nerves
she'd tried hard to ignore threatened to send her to the ladies restroom. She
paused outside the door and inhaled through her mouth, exhaled through her nose,
until she thought she'd hold down the bile churning in her stomach.

Then
she walked into her father's domain.

The
reception removed her glasses and smiled at her. "May I help you?"

"Yes,
I'd like to see Curt Stewart," she said.

The
woman glanced at the papers on her desk before returning her gaze to Addison.
"Do you have an appointment?"

She
shook her head. "No. If you could please let him know that I have personal
business with him, and it's urgent, I promise to only take a few minutes of his
time."

"Your
name?"

She
leaned forward and whispered," I'd like to surprise him if that's alright.

The
receptionist eyed her and finally rolled her chair backward and stood.
"Let me see what I can do. If you'll have a seat, I'll be right
back."

She
nodded and turned around.

At
this time of day, the waiting room stood empty. She wandered to the corner,
picked up a magazine and flipped through it unseeing. She couldn't sit. If she
did, her legs would never support her when it was time to walk back to meet her
father.

She
held her breath and let it out slowly. Nathan was going to kill her when he
found out she'd come here by herself without telling him.

Purposely
leaving Nathan out of her plans, she'd kissed him goodbye for the day and went
to work like normal. She tapped her foot. Deep down, she knew he'd put a stop
to her seeing her father on her own.

He'd
want to come with or more than likely forbid her to come at all, and she
would've obeyed him. Maybe he'd even try to confront her father on his own,
which would not be the smartest thing. Nathan would never understand that she
needed to construe an ending to that chapter in her life.

After
finding out about her mother's hidden side, Addison assumed her mother had a
different idea of how she wanted to live her life. Instead of finding
satisfaction with a man who could dominate her, her mother had found herself
tied down with a child she never wanted.

Addison
needed answers to why her mother stopped living, because until she heard the
truth, she'd go on hating, being fearful, and worrying about running into her
father all the time. All unhealthy for her, she wanted to improve her life,
because Nathan deserved someone strong. She wanted the strength to be her best,
so she could enjoy life.

"Excuse
me, Ms?" The receptionist stood in the waiting room. "Mr. Stewart
will see you now. He wants you to know he has a meeting in a half hour, so
you'll have to be quick."

"Excellent,"
she said.

Oh,
God. What am I doing? He doesn't deserve to know me. He's never wanted me.
She followed the receptionist down the hall.
I was stupid for thinking this
erases who I am. He never loved my mother. I doubt if mom ever loved him, she was
a bitter, evil, bit—

"Here
you go." The woman opened the door and smiled.

"Thank
you," she whispered.

She
stepped into the large room. Her breath, thick and suffocating her, roared in
her ears.

Curt
Stewart sat behind his desk and rose to his feet. For the first time in her
life, she studied him up close. Sure, she'd seen him before, but she'd always
ran away or tried not to look at him at all. His bigger than life and powerful
stance in the state as a high roller intimidated her.

The
gray at the temples softened a rather hard face. Curt Stewart's age was more
apparent the longer she gazed at him. When he smiled and held out his hand, his
eyes softened.

She
put her hand in his, and gazed down searching for anything she could match to
herself. Long fingers, nails shaped the same, complexion of their skin…

"I’m
sorry. Bretta didn't inform me of your name." Curt motioned at the chair.
"Sit. Please."

"Thank
you," she mumbled.

Her
thoughts raced and she had no idea how she'd start the conversation. All the
rehearsed lines and practiced openings fled with the shock of actually seeing
him in person. She sat on the edge of the chair. If he made one move, she'd
jump up and run out.

"You're
name?" he asked again.

She
cleared her throat. "Addison Flint."

There.
She'd put the truth out in front of him.

Her
fingers curled around the sides of the chair. She stared at the man who'd
fathered her. He nodded and leaned forward. The back of her leg bounced against
the chair. Why wasn't he saying anything?

"Is
there something I can help you with today?" Her father raised his brows
and waited for her to continue.

She
sucked in air. "I believe you had a relationship with my mother, Carly
Flint, about twenty seven years ago."

"A
business relationship?" He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "I
was working with Morse Inc. back then. Not that they're in business any longer—he
laughed—I guess we all have to start at the bottom and work our way up. Carly
Flint, you say?"

She
frowned. "Yes."

He
clicked his tongue. "I'm sorry. The name isn't ringing a bell."

"What?"
She pressed her hand to her chest, anger pressing down on her.

Either
he was a habitual liar or he suffered from memory loss. Her mother had told her
exactly what he'd said when finding out he had a child coming into the world.
He'd threatened her life.

"I'm
afraid I'm short on time today," Curt said, standing up, obviously
dismissing her.

She
stood and walked to the ceiling high window and stared down at the city below.
This could not be happening.

"Ms.
Flint?" Curt placed his hand on her back. "Can I help you with
something?"

She
crossed her arms, caught herself, and dropped her hands to her sides. "I—I
came here to tell you something."

"Okay,"
he said, kindly.

She
inhaled deeply and turned to face him. "I'm your—"

The
door banged open. She jerked her gaze across the room.
Oh, shit.

Nathan
filled the room. His gaze went straight toward her and all her bravery fled.
His eyes, concerned and alert, questioned her. She could imagine what was going
through his mind.

How
far had she gone? Did she tell Curt Stewart he was her father? Then, Nathan
appeared to accept her standing next to her father, and he held out his hand.

"Addy,
come here…" he said.

She
glanced between her father and her lover. The pull coming from the other side
of the room too strong to ignore, and she headed toward Nathan. In the middle
of the room, she stopped. She hadn't accomplished anything. She'd never try to
come here again and interrupt her father's life. It was now or never.

"I'm
sorry," she whispered to Nathan.

Then
she pivoted toward her father. "Almost twenty seven years ago, my mother
came to you and told you she was pregnant. You denied you were the man who put
the baby inside of her. She told me how you threaten to remove her and me from
living if she told a soul. She—she inhaled a shuddering breath—never told
anyone but me, and I was too ashamed to tell our secret."

Curt
glanced from her to Nathan and back to her, frowning. "Ms. Flint, I—"

"No."
She held up her hand. "I'm not here for any other reason than to let go of
the secret. You see, I don't need to claim you as my dad. I'm just tired of
living a lie and hiding my mother's excuses and fears for her. I have no reason
to tell anyone about our connection, because you don't exist to me. I don't
need a father. So, if your threat to kill me or bury the secret still holds
true after all these years, you're welcome to do what you think you have to do.
Just know that I'm not scared of you any longer and I refuse to hide."

Nathan
had approached her while she was talking and wrapped his arms around her middle
from the back. She sagged against him, soaking up his silent support. She'd
completed her task, and one of her inherited terrors could be laid to rest.

"Although,
I wish Addison would've let me know she was coming to meet you, I back her in
what she's done today. You must know that you won't be able to touch her or her
life. I won't let you," Nathan said.

Curt
loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "I don't know
what to say."

She
shook her head. "There's no reason to say anything. It's in the
past."

He
leaned onto his desk as if the information was too much for him to carry on his
shoulders. "Ms. Flint, I'm sorry…but, I'm not your father. I don't know
who your mother was. There's certainly a chance that I dated or met her in some
other capacity before and have forgotten a name. It was a long time ago."

She
sighed. His denial came as no surprise, and she had no desire to know anything
more. "I understand."

"No.
I don't think you do." Curt wiped his forehead. "No woman has ever
come to me and mentioned that she was pregnant before. That's something a man
wouldn't forget."

"But,
she told me what you said when she told you," Addison said. "There
was no denying the fright you evoked. From the time I was ten years old, I knew
never to seek you out or mention your name because you were the monster that
could come after me."

He
shook his head. "I'm not doubting your story. I-I honestly am telling you
the truth. I don't know your mother."

Addison
looked over her shoulder at Nathan. "I don't understand. I'm not asking
him for anything."

"I
know." Nathan directed his attention to Curt. "We'll be
leaving."

Curt
lunged forward. "Wait. If there's a possibility…I'd want to know."

"That's
not necessary." She straightened.

He
grasped her arm. "I don't have any children. My wife and I…we've tried.
I'd like to know if there is any truth to me being…"

"Why?"
she whispered.

"Because
I'm not the kind of man you seem to think I am." Curt stiffened and
dropped his hand. "If I knew I had a child out in the world, I'd want to
know."

She
studied him.

His
eyes shined bright and a nervous tic in his left eyebrow flickered. She scraped
her teeth over her bottom lip. The man her mother described was absent.

Curt
Stewart held no threat to her. He was an older gentleman, who seemed genuinely
confused over her news.

Nothing
added up. Her mother's story seemed to have holes, not that she was surprised.
Her mother wasn't the most open person, especially to Addison. The thought that
her father actually wanted to get to know her, to know the truth, to help her
fix her problem went against everything she'd been taught. She didn't know what
to do.

"Is
it okay if I call after I think about what has been said today?" she
asked.

"Please,"
Curt replied. "Please do, and if you remember anything else or I do—he
glanced up at Nathan—I'll call Nathan's office and leave a message."

She
nodded and then turned and walked out of the office. With her chin held high,
she entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close.

In
private, Nathan moved toward her. She planted her hand on his chest.

"Please,
don't touch me. I'm barely holding it together. If you care, if you want to
help me, let me get out of here fast or I'm afraid I'm going to start bawling
my head off and you'll end up carrying me home," she whispered.

He
nodded and stepped to the side of the elevator. After a few seconds he said,
"I'd always carry you home, doll."

Chapter
Thirty-Three

"Eleven,"
Nathan said.

Nathan's
sense of making sure Addison remained grounded and not lost to him as he beat
her with his belt gave her the permission to allow herself to slip into only
feeling. Addison nodded, because she was powerless to speak. From the very
beginning, she'd paid attention.

Each
flick of the leather, each sting, each welt raised on her sensitive skin
brought her out of herself and into what was happening between them. She
couldn't hide from Nathan.

She
tried. Even all these weeks of being together, she tried.

Whether
it was human nature to protect her heart or she still battled with the painful
lessons her mother taught her about not trusting anyone, she continued to test Nathan.
He allowed her only so long, and then he showed her more attention.

The
attention hurt. God, it hurt so freaking good.

The
belt came down on her lower back. She moaned. The pain more of a caress to her
soul, but she knew later, she'd be reminded of the mark he'd placed on her. The
feeling of knowing he gave her everything lasted long after right now. That's
why she loved any pain he inflicted on her.