OVERPROTECTED (2 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Laurens

Tags: #young adult romance

BOOK: OVERPROTECTED
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When I’d asked about it, Daddy had told me I was his
special
princess
, that there were bad people in the world who might hurt me. But he would never let that happen—never.

The vow sent my spine crawling in every direction.

Why hadn’t he done anything about Colin Brennen when I was younger? He’d hurt me plenty of times. Of course, I’d been too terrified to tell Mother and Daddy—or even my companions—

about Colin’s brutal teasing, afraid Colin would find out I’d snitched and make my life more miserable.

I pulled my long blonde hair up into a knot at the top of my head and brushed blush on my cheeks. Circles shadowed beneath my blue eyes. Before I could stop, tears slid down my face. The moment, the feeling, was too familiar. I blinked them back, swiped the tracks from my face and took in a deep breath. There were more tears these days, something deep inside of me reached out with a need that wouldn’t be ignored or suppressed any longer.

I wanted things, yearned for experiences. My own apartment. A job I could give my heart to. Freedom to come and go as I pleased.

Someday I wanted a man. All of that and more.

I dressed for dinner in black slacks and a white blouse. I couldn’t allow my parents to control me any longer, no matter the cost.

I took the stairs down to the first floor, cold from the black and white marble reaching up my legs, chilling me in spite of the velvet designer flats on my feet. The majestic curved stair curled from the main floor to the top, framed in a half-circle cylinder-like room where Mother hung her collection of tapestries from around the world.

On the first floor, hung a portrait of me Mother had commissioned a year earlier. I hated the pretentious display. In my black dress, pearls and hair done up I looked like I was ready for prom.
What a laugh
. I’d never go to prom.

Stuart stood gaping at it. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him drooling over the massive image. He turned when he heard me coming down, and his lips slit in a grin. He clasped his hands behind his back and his eyes raked me from head to toe.

“Stunning, as usual,” Stuart said.

My stomach rolled. I went to pass him on my way to the dining room, but he stepped in front of me. I stopped. His face inched toward mine. “Your sneaking out is our little secret.” His hawk-like gaze traveled over my face, neck and lower, shooting hot fear beneath my skin.

Without answering, I stepped around him and opened the French doors to the dining room. Mother sat at her usual spot at the foot of the dark mahogany table, Daddy at the head. Both looked up when they heard the doors swing open.

“There she is.” Daddy set aside the papers he was reading and gleamed. He wore a designer suit in deep charcoal. He had dozens made for himself, tailored to show off another of his obsessions: his manicured body. As frustrated as I was with my circumstances, his sky blue eyes melted my heart. Adoration swamped me. The moment he and I were in the same room together, the mood was as if nothing and no one was more important than me.

Daddy stood, one hand reaching out. I crossed to him and gave him a hug, his spunky cologne familiar, the feel of his slick suit firm, cool and unyielding against my body. “How’s my girl?” He studied me, his lawyer-sharp gaze searching for anything out of perfect alignment in my life.

“I’m good. How are you?”

He stepped to the chair to the right of his and pulled it out for me. I sat.

“Long day. I’m glad to be home.”

“That’s what Mother said.” I plucked my intricately folded cloth napkin from the left of my place setting and spread it over my lap.

Mother looked up from her BlackBerry. “Agatha won’t leave me alone about Adam. She insists we introduce him to Ashlyn. He’s in his thirties.”

And bald
. I’d seen photos of the guy in society trades Mother occasionally shared with me.

Daddy’s deciphering gaze still scrutinized me. Did he see that I was angry at Stuart? Frustrated with my protected life? That I had disobeyed, sneaking out for a walk this afternoon?

I ate my salmon salad with my eyes downcast.

“The age difference doesn’t bother me as much as his past,”

Mother prattled on. “He’s thirty something and single for a reason—

in his case, countless reasons, all of them tall, slender and money hungry.”

“He’s not good enough for Ashlyn.” Daddy’s sharp tone landed like his will: iron clad and final, over the room.

“I’m only seventeen,” I said. Even though I’d be eighteen in a few months, pairing me with a thirty-something was ridiculous. And arranging my marriage? No way I was going to let them do that.

Silence followed. My stomach fisted. We’d had this conversation before, with Mother and Daddy orchestrating everything from where I would attend college (somewhere close by so they could keep an eye on me) to when I went shopping, always with Mother or Stuart—usually both.

I set aside my napkin and cleared my tight throat. “I think Stuart needs to be dismissed.”

Mother’s fork froze midway to her lips. Daddy’s firm jaw stopped in the middle of chewing. They both stared at me. I swallowed. “He’s been here three years now. He’s become too comfortable with me.”

Daddy’s jaw rotated once. He swallowed, shifted and his blue eyes iced. “Define too comfortable.”

“He…” Fear and relief rushed through me at the same time.

Condemning Stuart was the first step to freedom, I was certain.

“He… touched me today.”

Mother gasped. Daddy’s eyes bulged. “Not like that,” I clarified.

“He grabbed my arm… because he was mad at me.”

Fire blazed in Daddy’s countenance, reddening his smooth skin.

For a moment, I wished I hadn’t said anything, afraid he’d explode like he did sometimes when one of his employees disappointed him.

“Why would Stuart be angry at you?” Mother whispered, her auburn brows drawing tight over her green eyes.

They couldn’t find out I’d gone on a walk, not only would Stuart be fired, but the grave I lived in would be dug even deeper.

“I think he’s…in love with me.”

Mother’s hand went to her lips. She sat back in her chair as if blown there by a gust of disbelief. Daddy set aside his napkin, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

I swallowed.

After he’d tapped in a number, his gaze met mine. “Ashlyn, I’d like you to leave the dining room please. I need to speak to Stuart alone.”

The double doors swung open and Stuart smiled in. He slipped his cell phone into the front pocket of his slacks. “Yes, Mr. Adair?”

I stood, set my napkin over my salmon and excused myself, passing Stuart with a smug glance beneath lowered lashes. Confusion flashed on his face. The doors shut behind me.

In the empty hall, I pressed my back against the wall and let out a sigh. It was almost over. Stuart would be fired, I was certain of that, and though I was pretty sure Daddy would want to hire another bodyguard, my plan was to convince him I was capable of taking care of myself.

Raised voices leaked out from the dining room, echoing off the cold marble floor of the empty hall. Daddy—shouting at Stuart.

Stuart’s pleas, at first desperate, were finally smothered by Daddy’s booming commands.

The doors flew open. Stuart stormed out. I hid in the darkness of a doorway. He continued toward the entry, and took the stairs up two at a time.

Daddy appeared, looked left, then right, his piercing gaze catching me. “Ashlyn, come inside please.”

Fear tripped my heart. He waited in the open door and I passed him, his penetrating gaze cutting open my back, following me to my chair. I sat. He sat. Mother’s sober face was taut with disappointment and accusation.

“You went out alone today.” Daddy placed his napkin back on his lap.

My throat locked. Stuart had delivered his own final punch. I knew he was in love with me. I figured he’d lie to save himself, so he could keep the job, not tell Daddy the truth.

Deafening silence. My pounding heart rang through my ears. I lifted my chin. “Yes. I went for a walk.” I met Daddy’s slit-eyed gaze.

“I needed to be alone and I didn’t feel comfortable with Stuart any longer. I told you. I… haven’t felt… safe…around him for months.”

Daddy rose to his feet. His fist pounded into the top of the dining room table, shaking crystal and china. I jerked back in my chair.

“And you’re just now telling me?” Red rage stained his cheeks. He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a slim cigar and snapped off the tip. Then he thrust it into his lips. He dug for a lighter, his hands quaking, lit the cigar and he blew out a bank of smoke.

My pulse raced. Across the table, Mother sat ruler-straight in her chair, composed, without an ounce of surprise visible either on her face or in her body. “Charles, settle down.”

Daddy hissed in a breath, his mind appearing to roll like a runaway wheel down a steep mountain. I couldn’t swallow, my throat was caught in an invisible fist. Finally, he looked at me. “I fired him. Until I find a suitable replacement, you will not leave the premises without your mother or me. Understood?”

“Daddy, I can—”

“This topic is closed.” He smashed his barely-smoked cigar into the rim of his salad plate, and the plate wobbled.

He sat, placed his napkin on his lap and resumed eating.

Mother’s raised-brow expression sent a wave of anger through my blood. I stood.

“Sit,” Daddy commanded without as much as a break in chewing.

“I’ve lost my appetite.” I turned and headed for the door, waiting for them to call me back to the table. Sweat drenched my skin. I was sick of being controlled. Two steps from the door, and still nothing. I passed through the threshold, my breath frozen in my chest.

“Ashlyn.” Daddy.

I stopped.

“You weren’t excused, young lady.”

I turned, cocked my head. “Do I really need to be excused from the table at my age?”

Mother’s eyes widened for a moment. “Where is this attitude coming from?”

“I’m almost eighteen. You guys treat me like I’m twelve.”

“Being excused from the dinner table is good manners at any age.” Mother’s brow arched.

Daddy clasped his hands at his mouth, his lawyer-sharp blue eyes cutting open my conscience. I felt like all of my thoughts were naked.

“Let her go,” he said.

Mother turned to him with an indignant tsk-tsk. Though Daddy’s words should have returned some of my dignity, I didn’t buy his sudden change of nature. And I didn’t thank him. I held his gaze then went out the door.

My skin started to cool as I climbed the stairs. From the third floor came thumps and mumbling—Stuart, no doubt packing. Once on the second floor, I went into my bedroom and shut the door.

Nerves jumped beneath my skin. The need to flee raced with my pulse—fierce, determined and frustrated. I crossed to the window.

Black towncars, limos, sedans and cabs rushed by. The occasional businessman cloaked in black and plaid scarf passed. Joggers. Dog walkers. And here I stood.

The door swung open and I turned, gasped. Stuart. His muscles bunched beneath his sweater and jeans. He stepped in and shut the door at his back, his body filling the frame.

“You’re not allowed—”

“I didn’t think you had the guts, Ash.”

A tight pause sprang between us. “You still have to respect Daddy’s rules. If he found you in here he’d—”

“I don’t have to follow the rules anymore.” His low voice crept along my shivering skin. “I don’t work here. Thanks to you.”

He started toward me. “You had to know I wouldn’t go without screwing your little attempt at freedom. Especially when you got me fired. You’re never going to have your own life, not as long as Charles is alive.”

“That’s not true!”

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” He snickered, coming closer. Panic raced up my throat. “Daddy’s little princess isn’t going anywhere.” He reached to touch my cheek and I slapped his hand.

“Why did you do it?” he hissed. “I’ve given you three years of my life. I’d do anything for you. Why?” Hurt and anger crossed his face.

“Get out.”

Defeat filled his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Ash, I’m so—”

“Just leave.” Angry tears filled my eyes.

“I wanted to help you.” He shook his head, backed toward the door until his body finally bumped into the frame. His hand wrapped around the knob, his eyes latched to mine as if clinging to every second. “Come with me.”

My expression must have shown my disbelief.

“Now. Come with me. I can take you away from this insanity.

Come on, Ash. It’s the only way you’ll—”

“Get out, Stuart!” It was naive of me to think anyone living under the same roof as Daddy, Mother and I didn’t see Daddy’s deep obsession with my safety. Still, it humiliated me. I turned toward the window, forcing my body not to give into tears in his presence.

Minutes ticked by. Finally, the door closed softly.

CHAPTER TWO

The strong tap on my door was Daddy’s—his signature knock—

demanding and unyielding. In the middle of a novel I was sure he’d frown upon—a romance—I turned the book over and positioned myself across the bed so it looked like I was taking a nap.

“Come in.”

The door swung open. Daddy still wore his suit, though he’d loosened his necktie. The faint scent of his faded cologne tickled the air. He smiled. “Princess. Am I interrupting?”

“No, I was just resting.”

He shut the door quietly, then leveled me with his penetrating eyes. “Something happened today. And I’m not talking about Stuart touching you, though that was unfortunate. Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“What then?”

My throat clutched. “Wh-what to you mean?”

“I saw it on your face.” He started in my direction and my nerves skittered. “What happened?”

Surely my accidental run-in with Colin Brennen didn’t show in my expression. I swallowed, sat upright. Daddy’s keen gaze shifted, focusing on my now-exposed romance novel.

My heart pounded. He reached out, picked up the book and examined it. His silver gray eyes slid to mine. “What happened on your walk today, Ashlyn?”

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