Something fell on my back, and I grabbed at it, seeing the sleeve of his hoodie he must’ve picked up from somewhere.
He started walking, and I got farther away from the bed, the nightstands, and the bedroom.
“Come on, man.” I whined, his shoulder digging into my stomach. “Damon won’t like it.”
“He won’t know.”
Yes, he will! My brother would be where they were. How would he not see me?
He wrapped his arms tightly around my thighs, and I stopped fighting as soon as he began descending the stairs. I didn’t want him to drop me.
He stopped, and I felt a draft on my legs as he opened the door at the bottom.
“Seriously,” I begged. “I don’t want to go. Damon would kill me if he found me with Kai again.”
But he just ignored me.
“Come on!” I yelled, kicking and hitting his back. “Don’t be an asshole! I don’t want to see him anyway. The pansy-ass barely put up a fight when I left, not man enough to come for me himself, huh?”
A smack hit my ass, and I yelped. The burn spread out, making me wince.
He walked for the stairs, and I caught sight of my father’s bedroom door opening, light pouring into the dark hallway.
“What the hell is going on?” He stepped out, immediately meeting my eyes as I hung upside down and twisted my head to see him.
“Gabriel.” I panted as Michael halted. “He just came into Damon’s room. I don’t want to go with him.”
My father just arched a brow, but I lost sight of him as Michael turned around to fac
e him.
There was silence, and I stayed frozen, waiting for Michael to put me down.
But he didn’t.
Instead my father spoke up. “Gates are locking for the night,” he informed Michael. “You take her out of this house, you can’t bring her back until dawn.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, frustration boiling my blood. I wasn’t surprised. What did I expect him to say when a half-naked guy sneaks into his house to kidnap his daughter?
Absolutely nothing.
I heard the door close again, and Michael spun around, descending the stairs as his body shook with laughter.
“Model father, that one.” He squeezed the back of my thigh. “I think you’ll actually be safer with me.”
We made it down the stairs, and he opened the front door, walking out.
“Listen,” I said, seeing the driveway as my hair blocked the rest of my view. “I can’t go with you. He’s already angry enough.”
“I told you, he won’t know you’re there.”
And then I was swinging back upright, my feet finding the ground.
My head swam with dizziness, but I saw him open the back door of his G-Class and all of a sudden, music and laughter poured out. I looked in, seeing the car packed with people. No one I recognized.
“Make room,” Michael told someone.
He then turned and pushed me into the seat. “Ty, do her face,” he said to someone and the door slammed behind me.