Page 9 of Georgia Peach

Chapter Three

Gage

Fuck me.I didn’t mean to smash her illusions of her father so coldly. It’s just that I couldn’t take her defense of the man. She put him on a pedestal and idolized him. A monster. The truth was it’d made me jealous with rage. I want her to look to me that way. Not him. He doesn’t fucking deserve her. I don’t give a fuck if he is her father. He’s a piece of shit.

I try to tell myself that she would have eventually found out anyway, but something inside me says I still shouldn’t have blurted it out in a fit of jealous rage over her defense of him.

I try the door on the bathroom, but unsurprisingly, it’s locked. She’s barricaded herself inside.

“Ava,” I say softly but firmly. “Open the door.”

Silence.

I grit my teeth. I’m not a man who’s used to being ignored, and I’m already strung tight over my fuck up with her. I want to try to make it right if I can, but I can’t do fuck all if she keeps herself locked up in there all night.

“I’m only going to tell you one more time, princess,” I try to keep my voice low and even as I speak to her, “Open the door.”

Silence again.

I clench my teeth together so hard I’m surprised I don’t break my jaw.

“Ava, if you don’t open this goddamned door, I swear to fuck I’ll break it down.”

I finally see the doorknob turn, and the door slowly opens to reveal her small frame standing there, her eyes downcast. She’s allowing her hair to fall on either side of her face, effectively hiding behind it.

“Look at me,” I tell her.

She makes no move to lift her head, so I reach out a hand and gently cup her chin, lifting her face up.

Fuck me.It’s like a punch to the gut. Her eyes are red-rimmed and glistening with tears. They’re filled with sadness and confusion, and a surge of protectiveness swells up within me. I want to kill whatever asshole made her feel this way, and then I realize that asshole is me.

Fuuuck.

But it’s her father too. Her fucking human trafficking piece of shit father. I hate him. I hate him for what he does. I hate him for deceiving me. I hate him for hurting his sweet daughter this way.

Of its own volition, my thumb strokes over her cheek. Her skin is petal soft. She’s so delicate and fragile. And Christ but her tear-stained face is beautiful. I never want to see her crying, but somehow those tears make her even more beautiful.

Or maybe I’m just fucked in the head. Hell, I don’t know. All I know is she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever fucking seen, and I’m quickly losing sight of my goal in all this. Yes, I still want to see Sinclair pay for what he’s done, but I also want his daughter.

I want Ava as my own. Mine. Mine. Mine. The mantra chants in time with my heavy heartbeat in this silence that stretches between us as she looks up at me sadly with shimmering moisture in her eyes and I gaze down at her, trying to figure out how I can keep her without her hating me.

I’m trying to think of what to say, but nothing seems sufficient. I’ve never been struck speechless before, but this girl’s tears have done just that. Another human being has never had such power over me before.

It’s a foreign sensation that I both love and hate.

But then she shocks the hell out of me when she suddenly wraps her arms around my waist and burrows her face against my chest, sobbing, her thin shoulders shaking with her grief.

My arms instantly circle around her, holding her close. I stroke her hair, murmuring words of comfort to her. “It’ll be okay, princess. I’ll never let anything hurt you. I’m so sorry, Ava. I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know if she hears me. She continues to cry, clinging to me like I’m her lifeline. I’d be lying if I said I’m not secretly loving every minute of it. I hate that she’s in pain, but my soul soars that she turned to me for comfort. Maybe it’s because she’s somewhat in shock or just that I’m the only other living, breathing organism around for her to cling to when she needs solace, but I don’t give a fuck either way.

I held her in my arms before, but it’s different now that she sought me out of her own accord. She initiated this touch. She’s lucid in my arms, and it’s the best fucking feeling in the world to have her there.

I never want to let her go.

I’m stroking up and down her back, and I feel her soothing underneath my touch. Her body goes lax against me, pressing into mine, and her sobs begin to quiet.

I’m dangerously hard, my cock like a slab of marble in my pants. Every muscle in my body is tense with the effort it takes to control myself, to keep from grabbing handfuls of her delicious little ass and lifting her up until she wraps those beautiful fucking legs around me.


Tags: Emma Bray Romance