Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 88: Chapter 88

MEREDITH
“You’re just like your whore mother! Giving it away to every guy who blinks at you! Slut! You ruined everything!”
“Dad? What are you saying?”
“Dad? Don’t call me that! I’m not your father! I never was. Your whore mother tricked me. But look at you, Meredith. The evidence of another man’s DNA is written all over you.”
I cried. Shocked and horrified by what the man I thought was my father said to me.
His face was frightening. Sweat dotted his brow. A crazed sort of drunken madness glittered in eyes nothing like mine.
“You’re gonna write a note, telling him it was a just a game.”
“No!”
“Yes, you will. You’ll do it or Josef will die! I know people. You know I do. Now write!”
My hand shook as I held the pen and his fingers dug into the back of my neck as he held me in place. His breath stunk of booze, and it made me want to puke.
“Since you’re giving it away. Why not?” he grunted, pulling on the neckline of my shirt.
I screamed and backed up, but his grip never wavered. He tore it. And his clammy hands closed over my breast.
“Stop it! Dad stop!” I screamed.
He backed away, eyes wide, and ran a hand over his face.
“Oh no. Merry, I didn’t mean. Shit. Stop crying. Stop it! Just stay here,” he told me, locking me in his office before he left.
Sorrow, confusion, and pure, abject misery filled me.
“Please let me out! Let me out!”
“Let me out!” I screamed, sitting up.
“Hey, hey, easy,” a familiar voice broke through the foggy haze of my nightmare.
“I got you. You’re safe,” Josef whispered.
His powerful arms wrapped around me, and I clung to him, my chest still heaving.
I stared behind him at the floor to ceiling windows in our bedroom.
Our bedroom. In New York City. I’m married. To Josef. I’m with Josef.
The nightmare loosened its grip on me as I caught my breath and stared at all the shimmering lights of Manhattan, glittering beneath us like some magical, everlasting festival.
New York was the City That Never Sleeps. A place that held more opportunities than anywhere else. Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York, played in my head, and I shivered.
My stepfather had been a huge fan of Ol’ Blue Eyes. Most folks from his generation, and New Jersey especially, since the famous crooner had been born in the Garden State, were.
I couldn’t stand to listen to him anymore. Not without thinking about that horrible night.
I trembled again, and Josef’s arms tightened around me.
I was being dumb.
In my line of work, I’d seen true horrors, and I knew what I’d been through was nothing.
But I allowed myself a moment of self-indulgence, and I burrowed into my husband’s strong, warm chest.
Tracing the tribal tattoo on his shoulder, I steadied my breathing.
Yes, I’d had nightmares over the years, but they’d gotten a lot better. I’d had some counseling, but not much.
Still, having Josef there to comfort me was more than I could have ever wished for. He kissed my temple, rubbing my back in soothing circles. I breathed in his spicy masculine scent and felt his chest move with each breath he took.
He grounded me. And I was so damn grateful to have him.
“Wanna talk about it, Baby?” he rumbled.
I shook my head. I didn’t. Not really. I just wanted him to hold me.
“Okay, Little Red. Whatever you want,” he said, kissing me again and leaning back against the pillow with me firmly in his embrace.
I sighed. Happy and content for the first time in what felt like ever.
I’d fallen asleep still feeling hurt by him. I was upset he’d checked on my story. But really, of course he did.
What did I expect? He owned a security firm, for fuck’s sake. It was literally his business.
Anyway, I’d never had a nightmare before tonight. But just like with everything else he did, Josef made it better.
He was so big and strong.
A natural born protector.
“You’re safe, Baby. I will never let anyone hurt you,” he said, reassuring me without me having to tell him to.
“I know you won’t,” I replied, kissing his chest.
I knew I shouldn’t delay any longer. It was about time I let Josef in.
If we had any hopes for a future together, he needed to know the past. He deserved that much. We both deserved the opportunity to make something of this whatever we had.
I felt his arms tighten around me, and I exhaled a slow breath.
The rise and fall of his chest were steadying, grounding me as I started to reveal the truth about my eighteenth birthday.
“I’m going to tell you something,” I started,
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“That night, after we, you know, in the garden,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper. “I tried to sneak back into the house, but Dad, I mean, Franklin, was there. He’d been drinking, and he was angry.”
I remembered the all too familiar posture of my drunk stepfather as he sneered at me.
Later, he’d said he was too drunk to remember what he did.
But he wasn’t drunk enough to not lie and bribe Josef. So drunk wasn’t a good excuse. Drunk was a copout.
“I tried to walk past him. He’d gotten drunk before, and he was never very pleasant to be around, anyway. I knew it was wiser to avoid a conflict when he’d been drinking, so I didn’t even reply when he asked where I’d been.”
“Did he get drunk a lot back then?” Josef asked, and I shrugged.
“I’m not sure. I was pretty busy senior year, and nursing my infatuation with you,” I said honestly.
Josef grunted, his hand still rubbing my back.
“He got mad. Blocked off my exit. Told me he saw us in the garden. Called me a whore. Said I was like my mother. He said a lot of mean things. Then he told me about her, and how she’d tricked him into marrying her, thinking I was his.”
I took a big breath. Readying myself for the next part.
“But I wasn’t his daughter. He told me my father was just some loser. A low life who never wanted my mother or me. Then he told me I ruined his plans,” I whispered, shivering at the memory.
“What plans?” Josef asked, his voice husky and angry.
“H-he was trying to close a business deal, and uh, I was part of the arrangement. Franklin planned to gift me, his virgin daughter, to the owner of Petro Star Oil. They went bust a few years ago. Apparently, the man was a fucking pig. Anyway, Franklin knew he lost the deal, and he was mad.”
“Motherfucker. Did he—no, I know he did. What did he do?” Josef asked, but I shook my head.
It was clear he was angry, and I didn’t want him angry.
“Please, tell me, Little Red. I need to know.”
Josef kissed my temple, holding me tighter, and I knew he was right. I couldn’t keep it from him anymore than I could keep it from haunting my dreams.
“He screamed at me. Then, he just pulled my hair and shoved me into his chair at his desk. He forced me to write a note saying I was just playing with you and saying goodbye. He had my hair so tight, and I was so scared. I just did it. I’m so sorry I wrote what he wanted me to, but I didn’t know what to do⁠—”
“Oh fuck. Shit. Meredith, you did nothing wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I believed him,” Josef said, sitting up with me in his arms.
He held me even tighter, cupping my cheek and kissing my head as the memories just poured out of me, like a weeping wound.
“He came to the cabin where I bunked with the other guards a few hours after I left you in the garden. Tears in his eyes, that motherfucker. He gave me the note and a check for twenty-five thousand with his apologies,” Josef told me.
I already figured that out, but I was glad Josef confirmed it for me.
It felt cathartic in a way. Like we were mending fences. Building bridges over the past.
“I know. He showed me a copy of the check. Said you cashed it immediately.”
“I did. Fuck, Meredith. I left and took it right away. I just couldn’t believe someone as special as you would ever really want me,” he confessed, and I was stunned.
“I’m so sorry, Baby. A friend needed money for his business, and I was his first investor. I gave him the check an hour after I got it. I was so fucking hurt. But when did you leave?” Josef asked after a few moments.
“After writing the note, right before he went to see you. He, um, well, he’d been drinking. He stunk of booze. He pulled my hair, slapped my face, and then he, he,” I stuttered on that part.
“He what?”
“He tore my shirt, and he g-grabbed my breast and twisted it. He was shocked when I started screaming. He called me names. Said it was my fault and called me more terrible names. Then he locked me in his office,” I said with remembered shame.
I shuddered against Josef. A strangled sound came from his throat, and he squeezed me tighter, but I needed to finish telling him. So I did.
“I was so confused and hurt and tired, but I couldn’t fall asleep in there. The sun wasn’t up yet. But I knew he would be back. When he returned, I rushed the door, knocking him out of the way.”
“Thank God. Thank God you got away,” he whispered huskily.
“I ran. I just took that opening, and I ran. I tried to find you, but you were gone. So I went to the guesthouse where I hid until I finally bribed a maid, her name was Gretchen, to grab some stuff from my room. Then I ran as far away as I could with the money in my pocket and my passport,” I finished.
I took a deep breath, gasping when Josef squeezed me. I felt relieved, like I’d just lost about fifty pounds of shame and guilt.
“Fuck. Fuck. Baby, I am so fucking sorry. Sorry you had to go through that, Sorry I left. And I’m fucking sorry he’s dead. I want to kill him myself,” Josef growled, surprising a laugh from me.
I couldn’t help it. I knew it was wrong. I knew it made me sicko or a freak. But I really just could not help myself.
Relief flooded my veins, and it was euphoric.
Just knowing that Josef knew.
That he knew and still wanted to defend me. That he didn’t blame me. That he believed me.
Knowing all of that helped so much.
I hadn’t realized how much guilt I’d been carrying around. As if I was somehow responsible for Franklin Gray’s revolting behavior.
“It wasn’t your fault, Baby,” Josef said, squeezing me tighter.
“I know,” I replied.
And for once, I really did know.
“That was all him. It wasn’t you. He was supposed to protect you from the monsters, not be one.”
“I didn’t know he wasn’t my father,” I confessed. “I didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t look like either of them. Not my mom or him. But I didn’t know.”
“It doesn’t matter if he was your biological father or not. He was responsible for you, Meredith. He should have done better. I should have done better, too. I’m so fucking sorry for all of it.”
I felt anger and more roiling through him, and I hugged Josef tighter. It wasn’t his fault, either.
He had to know I didn’t blame him.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”
“But I don’t,” I said, realizing I must’ve spoken aloud a moment before.
And I meant it. I didn’t blame Josef.
But I still loved him.
Oh fuck.
I did. I loved him.
There was no way I could deny it any longer. To hell with the consequences, my reckless heart didn’t seem to care.
I loved Josef, and I really wanted our marriage to work. And not just that. I wanted him to love me back.
In fact, I just might demand it.