Page 10 of Learn For Me
The tattoo was a reminder that while God might send angels down to guide a man through the worst times of his life, He didn’t let them stay long.
Olivia slapped weakly at him as he pulled her into a sitting position, then onto her feet. The scars on his back twinged as he moved quickly, looping his arm around her waist when her legs immediately gave out. Keeping her pinned to his side, he opened the door and dragged her through it, resetting the deadbolt before he slammed it shut.
From the smell in there, a thief would have to be desperate to take anything.
“Someone needs to take you over his lap and smack some sense into your ass,” he muttered grimly, swinging her up into his arms for the short journey to his truck. “Once a day, every damn day, until you learn how to look after yourself.”
Her head thunked onto his shoulder. “No, thanks.”
“Wasn’t plannin’ on givin’ you a choice.” A lie, of course. BDSM was renowned for its solid foundation in trust and consent. Double emphasis onconsent. “Be quiet and think about how you’re going to explain this to Atticus.”
She huffed in disgust. “My pers’nal life has nothing to do with him.”
“Think he might disagree with you on that.” Carrying her past the utter wreck of a car in her driveaway, he set his jaw and took her to the passenger side of his gleaming black Dodge Ram. The fucking gas guzzler was his absolute pride and joy. “You gonna sleep your way to his place?”
“Mmm. Maybe?”
That was a yes, he thought as her voice softened theMs. Stepping back, he shifted her until he managed to hook his fingers into the handle of the back door and yank it open without dropping her. “When was the last time you slept properly?”
“Long time ago.” She made a protesting sound when he set her down on the wide bench seat, her hand catching his shirt. Gentle persuasion encouraged her to let go and fall back until she stretched out across the leather.
Undeniably needed a keeper, he decided with a fierce scowl. God knew where she’d been for the past two years; he wasn’t really interested, or so he told himself. Her leaving had ripped a hole open in a heart already crippled by so much loss, and in response, he’d shut it down and barricaded it.
Plucking a jacket from the footwell, Zeke folded it into a square, then handed it to her. “Put that under your head.” He grunted in approval when she obeyed sleepily. “Now, close your eyes and get some rest.”
She nodded slowly, then rubbed her cheek into the jacket with a hum of delight. Within seconds, she snuffled contentedly, and those red, swollen eyes fluttered closed.
He waited a beat, two, but she didn’t stir.
The door shut with a click, not quite latching, so he bumped it with his hip. Rounding the back of the truck, he climbed in and started the engine, remembering to turn down the music before Falling In Reverse’sVoices In My Headwoke Sleeping Beauty.
It wasn’t the longest drive, less than an hour if the traffic stayed light, but by Christ, it felt decades long.
Most of the time, Zeke’s attention was split between the turmoil consuming his thoughts, shooting glances in the rearview at his young charge, and keeping his eyes on the road.
When Olivia left, he’d asked Atticus if he knew where she’d gone, and why. His friend only shook his head in the negative, and Zeke hadn’t asked again. He wasn’t a man who begged, not even when something deep inside him yearned so fiercely to hear her voice or catch a whiff of her scent.
His nose wrinkled, the horrendous odor from her house still stuck in his senses. From what he’d seen in her bedroom, the house and its contents remained untouched all the time she’d been gone, which forced him to ask the question, why had she come back?
None of his business.Noneof his fucking business, he reminded himself angrily. So, he’d fallen for her like a hormone-riddled teenager. It wasn’t like they’d made proclamations of love to each other. Hell, they hadn’t even kissed—unsurprisingly, seeing as he was old enough to be her goddamn father.
Olivia was a free woman with the world and its many oysters at her feet.
It was his own stupid fault he’d allowed himself to dream of her, knowing she was too young. He was fifty-five years old this year, gray as the ass end of a racoon, set in his ways—which included more than just spanking willing submissives—and if he was brutally honest, too banged up and scarred for someone as precious as her.
So, he drove, determined to kick her ass out at Atticus’s house and make a quick getaway. The Daddy Dom was experienced in handling distraught women, and it was becoming clear that while he might not have known where Olivia had gone in the beginning, he’d certainly gained that information somewhere down the line.
It was dark by the time he hit the brakes outside the house. A while back, it had been extended to add several more rooms onto an already impressive abode, creating room for all the Heisler babies Lisha kept popping out.
As he cut the engine, he resisted glancing back to check on Olivia. Babysitting duty was over and, as he vacated the truck, he was pleased to see Atticus coming out of the front door. That pleasure dimmed when he saw the kid tucked into the cradle of one beefy arm.
“You take the girl,” Zeke rasped. “Give me the kid.”
“Sorry, bud, just got him to settle down.” Grinning, Atticus lifted his eyebrow as he rocked his son gently from side to side. Link was a notoriously light sleeper and waking him resulted in a screaming fit that could go on for up to three hours, which was his current record. “Did she give you any trouble?”
“I had to climb through her bedroom window because she was having a breakdown behind the front door,” he replied flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. It was his defensive maneuver, the one he used when discussing topics he really wanted to avoid. “She slept the whole way here.”
“Good. Why don’t you bring her in? I’ll get us a beer while we wait for her to wake up, then we can discuss what’s going to happen.” Already turning, Atticus paused when Zeke cleared his throat meaningfully. “Problem?”