“Which one?” I ask as I slide my hand down her stomach, heading for the promised land.
“Reginald, sir. Miss Charlotte’s father.”
My hand pauses in its journey and we both go still, Charlotte glancing over her shoulder to stare at me with wide, slightly terrified eyes.
“Tell him I’ll call him back,” I say, my gaze never straying from my wife’s.
“He said it was urgent.” Another hesitation. “He would like to speak with you now, sir. I already tried to tell him you were busy.”
“Damn it,” I mutter, letting go of Charlotte and sliding out of bed. I glance around the bedroom, realizing I’ve got nothing in here to slip on. “Give me a minute,” I yell to Jasper. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
“Very well, sir.”
Charlotte sits up, the duvet bunched at her waist, her upper half on full display, which is the wrong call because damn, all I want to do is slip back into bed and suck on her nipples for fifteen minutes straight. Until she’s gasping and so wet, it takes nothing for me to slide inside of her and fuck her to oblivion.
Yeah. Not going to happen right now, thanks to her fucking father.
“What do you think my father wants?” she asks.
If one of her brothers told him about the abduction, I’m going to lose my shit. Why cause trouble when she’s home and safe?
Can’t say that to Charlotte, though.
“I don’t know. To give me shit?” I run a hand through my hair before resting both hands on my hips. “I need to throw some clothes on.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“Really don’t want to take a call with your father in my briefs with a hard-on.” I glance down at myself, noting the semi I’m still sporting.
She covers her mouth, muffling her laughter. At least she seems happy despite what happened yesterday. My girl seems to bounce back quickly.
My gaze goes to her arm and the bruises there. They look worse in the morning light, which infuriates the shit out of me. I get close enough to that asshole, and there’s going to be hell to pay.
“He’d make it deflate, trust me,” she says, and now it’s my turn to chuckle.
I leave her room and go into mine, grabbing a pair of sweats and slipping into them before I pull on a T-shirt. The moment I’m in the living room, Jasper is heading for me, a cordless landline phone in his hands, a solemn expression on his face as he hands it over.
“Good morning, Mr. Lancaster,” I say automatically.
“What the fuck is going on, Constantine? I just received a text message with a photo of my daughter bound and her mouth covered in tape. Has someonekidnappedher, and you didn’t think to tell me about it? Where the hell is she?”
This is how Reggie greets me, his booming voice making me wince. At least he’s upset about it. I know Charlotte figured he wouldn’t care.
“When did you receive the photos, sir?” Fury ripples through me. “How often do you check your damn phone?” According to Grant, not very much.
“Why does that matter? Tell me what’s going on. Now!”
“Charlotte is fine. She’s safe. She’s with me right now,” I try to reassure him, but he speaks right over me.
“What the hell kind of sick trick is this then? What’s going on? And don’t lie to me, son.” His voice is firm. As if I’m an idiot and would lie to this man.
I’m not freaking stupid.
“Are you available to meet sometime today? It’s probably better if I explain everything in person,” I say.
“Only if Charlotte is with you. I want to see her. Make sure she’s all right.” His voice is gruff, and for a minute I’m tempted to yell at his ass, just like he’s screaming at me. Call him out for his bogus behavior.
Where was he before, when she needed him? From what she’s told me, I don’t think this man has shown up for his daughter the entirety of her life. And when he does, he berates her, makes her feel like absolute shit and even hurts her. Mentally and physically.