Filthy Daddy

“What?” Goosebumps crawl along my limbs and I hold back a shudder at the idea that my ex was in such close proximity to my mother, even in a public place. He’s escalating, and this obsession with our now non-existent relationship is heading into dangerous turf. I loathe the idea of him tracking down Mom on top of everything else.

“He apologized, but I know it was all a game. He wanted me to know he was there and the only way he’d know is if he followed me. Anyway, I told him he needed to leave us both alone. All I can say is I’m glad we were in a public place.”

My mouth goes dry as I fumble for words. “Did he try to hurt you?”

“No. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. Jett Williams needs a serious talking to. I don’t think he’ll stop on his own.”

I can’t wrap my mind around why this is happening now. My fingers grip the sheets, forming fists that dig into my palms. The sharp pain keeps me from going completely off the deep end.

“Jett Williams?” Tate repeats, and leans against the nearby wall with his stare pinned to me.

I don’t repeat the name. In fact, I wish I’d never hear it again.

“Yes. I take it you know him,” I croak, meeting Tate’s eyes that seem to promise a slow retribution for my ex.

“I do.”

I’m vaguely aware that my mother resumes her babbling about her encounter with Jett. Tate listens attentively to everything she says. Mom goes on about how Jett can’t accept that things didn’t work out between us, or that I won’t move back to Louisiana.

“He was a nice enough guy at the beginning, Mom adds, directing her words at Tate, not me. “They just weren’t right for each other. They’d only been together for a few months when Jett proposed, which I thought was strange. He was moving too fast, and the more Molly tried to slow him down, the more unstable he became.”

The scowl on Tate’s face causes my throat to go tight. I swallow hard, wishing I’d said more to him earlier. Back then, I’d hope this drama would end on its own. Jett was barely a blip in my past, but he’s turned our history into a big nightmare. And it’s damn hard to banish a past that keeps showing up at my front door.

“Shoot, I almost forgot!” Mom exclaims and brushes past Tate into the hallway.

He steps up to me and places a steady, supportive hand on my shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Trying.”

The feel of his fingers massaging into my muscles is so comforting, I want to close my eyes and lose myself to his touch, except Mom will be back any second now.

“This Jett situation is a lot more serious than I first thought.”

I nod. “Probably.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

He grumbles under his breath, his hand falling away as my mother comes striding back into the room, holding out an envelope.

“This was in the mailbox for you. It’s Jett’s handwriting.” She doesn’t hand it to me, though. She gives it to Tate. Honestly, I’m glad he has it. I don’t care to read it because I know what Jett wants. I hate the fact that Jett can get to me so easily.

“I’ll, uh, leave you two alone now. Holler if you need me.” My mother’s searching gaze flicks from me to Tate and back. She gives me an awkward smile and hurries out of my room. The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor as she moves down the hall and takes the stairs only add to my desire to be anywhere but here.

“I can tell she wishes you got that psycho out of your life ages ago,” Tate rumbles out as he rips open the envelope.

“I do too. That’s hindsight for you.”

Tate scowls a couple of times as he reads. When he finishes, he crumples up the paper into a ball and stuffs it into his front pocket. “You done packing?”

“Yes.”

He reaches around me and zips up my travel bag, sliding it over his shoulder. I can hardly register his movements. I’m numb, lost in my own thoughts, wishing that Jett could disappear from my life the same way Tate just got rid of that letter. I want a redo of the last twenty-four hours, one where Jett never showed up. He’s always been a persistent guy. Back when we started dating, it was kind of cute, the way he made it clear that he wanted me and was serious about going the distance to have me in his life. Then he got clingy, overly protective, and beyond jealous. A guy couldn’t look at me without him wanting to pick a fight. His behavior began to bother the heck out of me, and after I told him to hit the road and he didn’t, it just pissed me off. Now, he’s wearing me down. He has me in a state of paranoia. I’m past the point of exhaustion.