Page 33 of Claimed By Daddy

Without her, none of it means a goddamn thing.

"Christ," I mutter, possessive rage and fear roiling in my guts. "What did you do to me, little girl?"

I think back to the way she looked up at me last night, so trusting, so damn innocent even when I was driving into her like my life depended on it, even when we were fucking each other raw.

I gave her every piece of my soul in that moment. She can't give it back now. I need her. Need her laughter, her softness, her teasing. I need to hear her call me 'Daddy' in that sweet, sultry tone that tells me she's mine, all mine.

I've never believed in fate or destiny. I've always believed we forge our own, that we get in this life only what we fight and claw for—but she's changed my mind. Because she was made for me, molded from pieces of my soul—to challenge me, to love me, to consume me again and again.

I need her more than I've ever needed to breathe or survive. I need her. And whether she knows it or not, she needs me the same way.

I'm her air, her armor, and her shelter. She needs me to ground her, to keep her safe, and to let her fly.

"Shit. Get it together, Carver." I run a hand over my face, trying to think. I have to find her, have to make sure she's safe. One way or another, I have to show her that I can be the Daddy she deserves, that I'm not just some beast driven by his kinks and obsessions.

I'm going to find her. It's not a point of negotiation.

I climb back into my truck, revving the engine as I slam the door and pull off, the need to find her overwhelming everything else.

I should be fucking terrified right now, trembling at the idea of losing her. But instead, determination pours through me in a flood.

She's mine. My sweet little brat. My playful tease. My innocent angel.

I won't rest until she's back in my arms, safe and sound.

"I'm coming, pretty baby," I whisper. "I promise, Daddy's coming for you."

Chapter Nine

Lena

By the time I make it back to the cabin, it's nearly dark…and Carver's truck is nowhere to be found. I sit in my car for a long time, staring blankly at the cabin, confusion swirling through me.

Where is he? Why did he just leave?

It doesn't make sense.

But as the shadows around the cabin deepen and his truck still doesn't rumble up the gravel driveway, anxiety begins to set in. I drag myself out of the car and force myself to go inside.

The cabin feels empty and cold without him. My gaze darts to the table where I left my note, only to find it still there, untouched.

He hasn't been back at all.

Pain squeezes my chest in a cruel vise, doubts crowding in no matter how hard I try to force them out again. I've been so sure of him…but what if he's not as sure of me?

What if last night made him realize that this isn't what he wants? That being my daddy is too much work?

A protest bubbles up from the depths of my soul. He wouldn't do that. I know he wouldn't. Something had to have happened. And yet…there's no note, no nothing.

I wrap my arms around myself, seeking comfort where there's none to be found. I stumble toward the bedroom, hoping for some hint of where he went. But I find none. It's as untouched as the rest of the cabin, left exactly as it was this morning when I left.

Something is wrong. I know it is.

Maybe he's hurt or lost. Maybe there was an accident.

Or maybe he just left, that evil little voice whispers again.

I sink down onto the side of the bed, fighting tears as anxiety claws through me. I get lost in a whirlpool of doubt, drowning in it.