Page 7 of Melt For Us, Daddy (Big Daddy Energy #4)

Cordelia

A cross the table, Jacob blinked slowly. Long, dark lashes framed eyes the same slate gray she remembered from her own childhood. Strange how such things could be passed down, so exactly, from one generation to the next.

Strange, and more than a little unsettling.

“My sisters.” His voice was stronger, more sure than she’d heard it yet when he finally spoke. Sitting up straighter in his chair, he rolled his shoulders back, meeting her gaze with a fierce determination she couldn’t help but admire.

Good boy.

“I want to get my sisters out. They won’t all come, I know that already. Some of them are married and even more pious than their mothers, if that’s possible. But Hannah, Sarabeth, Ruthie. All the younger ones. I need to get them out, as soon as possible.”

“Why now?” Holden asked, his voice gruff but not unkind. “You’re what? Nineteen? Twenty? Why are you so adamant about leaving now?”

“Twenty-one next month, sir.”

Just a boy, though he was almost five years older than she’d been when she’d left.

Still, her heart broke for him, and the child he was never allowed to be.

Her hands ached to reach for him, to hold him, but she held herself back.

Lending her support, her expertise, was one thing.

Getting emotionally entangled with someone who represented everything she’d fought tooth and fucking nail to leave behind was another thing altogether.

God, she wished Ivy was here. Her girl always knew when she was struggling, always knew exactly the right thing to say or do, even before Cordelia knew it herself.

But she wasn’t here, because Cordelia had royally fucked up. She’d kept things, big, important things, from the woman she loved and now she was here, without her, wondering if she’d ever be able to repair the damage she’d done.

Putting those worries on the shelf for now, she focused again on Jacob, who was staring down into his coffee as though it held all the answers.

“My father is… I don’t think he’s well.” Lifting his head, worry clouding the pale gray of his eyes, he jerked his chin up.

“No. I know he’s not well. How can he be if he’s trying to force me to marry my sister?

It’s not against church doctrine, not exactly, but it can’t be right. That can’t be what God wants, can it?”

“No. It isn’t,” Cordelia assured him, as strongly as she could. “Your sisters with husbands… how old were they when they got married?”

“Abigail was wed last month. She’s only fourteen.” Fire flashed in his eyes. “You’re asking me because that’s wrong, too. Forcing children to marry.”

“Yes.” Fuck, she needed some air . “It’s wrong to force anyone to marry. But especially a child.”

He nodded, slowly. “I watched a… I think it was called a docuseries last night. About the church. I never realized how much it hurt them. I’ve attended dozens of weddings. Some as young as twelve. And I never knew. Never even thought to ask if it would hurt them.”

Giving into to that need to comfort, to soothe, she reached across the table to take his hand, giving it a hard squeeze. “You didn’t know. And now that you do, you’re going to help us fix it. That’s what good men do, Jacob. And you’re a good man. You hear me?”

Some of the grief faded from his eyes and he nodded slowly, but she knew from personal experience he would carry it with him forever.

Just as she had.

“Good.” With another squeeze, she released his hand and leaned back in her chair. “Holden? What are our options?”

“I have some contacts in the federal government. If Jacob is willing to testify, if he thinks his sisters would be willing, especially the ones who married young, I can reach out. See if there’s any kind of open investigation into the prophets.”

“I don’t know about the others, but Abigail would come with us,” Jacob said.

“Her husband, he isn’t a good man. I’ve seen the bruises on her face, the ones everyone else pretends not to notice.

Hannah would come. She never married but…

she has her own testimony I’m sure she would be willing to give. ”

“Good.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, Holden made notes, his thumbs flying over the screen as he nodded encouragingly. “That's a good start, Jacob. I’ll reach out to my contacts, see what we can do to get the ball rolling on that.”

“How long will it take? To get my sisters out?”

Holden glanced her way, and her heart sank at the stark truth in his eyes. “We can’t know for sure just yet,” he said gently. “But you have my word that I will do everything in my power to get them out as soon as humanly possible.”

Another of those slow, understanding nods from Jacob. “They’ll need somewhere to go when they get out. I’ll need to be able to provide for them. A job, a house.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

But he would. She knew he would, because it was how he’d been raised. It was a man’s job to provide for the women in his family. And if— when —his father ended up behind bars, Jacob would inevitably take on that responsibility himself.

And because she did know, she couldn’t help but take on some of that burden herself.

“I’ll talk to Braden. I know he’s been looking for someone to clean the club during the day.

And we can look at getting you enrolled in GED classes, so you can at least have that under your belt.

You won’t be able to find a decent job without it. ”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cordelia. Please, call me Cordelia.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Thank you, Cordelia. You don’t know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

Oh, but I do. I understand more than I want to.

She and Holden said their goodbyes a little while later, and the moment they stepped outside, she stopped to drag in a deep, cleansing breath. “That was harder than I thought it would be. And I thought it was going to be pretty fucking hard.”

“It didn’t show. You handled him well.”

“I handled him the way I would have wanted to be handled. When I first got out.”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’d say it’s working. He responds to you, more than Zach or me.”

There was something else, something hanging in the air. Forcing her eyes open, she raised an eyebrow in his direction. “What is it?”

“What?”

“You want to say something. Say it.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Does it ever piss Ivy off how observant you are?”

“All the time.”

“Tell her I feel her pain.” Running a hand through his hair, he looked down at her, and she wished she’d worn her heels so she wouldn’t feel quite so small next to his giant frame. “I’m just wondering if having him work at the club is the best option.”

“It’s not like I’m asking Braden to let him in during club hours.

He’ll be there during the day, when it’s completely empty and the protestors aren’t around.

Your men are already watching the club 24/7, so you don’t have to worry about hiring extra security.

And it gives him time to get used to us.

Braden will watch him like a hawk, both to make sure he doesn't do anything he shouldn’t and for his own safety.

The club is the only option right now, as far as I’m concerned. ”

“You’ve given this some thought.”

“I had a feeling he was going to jump right into looking for a job. We don’t take charity, and when his father gets put in prison, he’ll feel compelled to take on the weight of caring for his sisters. It’s how it’s done. Men provide, women submit.”

“I can’t imagine anyone making you submit.”

“They tried. And I pretended to, for a bit. But I never let them break me. And I’ll be goddamned if I give those bastards a chance to break that sweet boy and his sisters. We’re going to get them out, Holden, one way or another.”

Ivy

“Thanks again for letting me borrow some clothes, Frankie.”

Stretched out on her bed, Frankie waved a hand. “Don’t mention it. I wouldn’t want to go home if I were you, either.”

Toward the end of their impromptu girls’ brunch at Silver’s house, Ivy had been faced with the problem of needing to go home and get ready for work.

Cordelia was most likely at their apartment, waiting for her to return, and even though her friends had spent hours picking the problem apart and giving her advice, she wasn’t feeling steady enough for the showdown she knew was coming.

Frankie had immediately offered up her own wardrobe, since she and Ivy were a similar size, even if Ivy was a couple inches shorter.

But Ivy had jumped at the chance to put off seeing Cordelia even just for another few hours.

And, she had to admit as she twisted and turned in front of the full-length mirror in Frankie’s bedroom, her friend had some excellent clothes to choose from.

She’d chosen a corset in a pale lavender that seemed to make her skin glow, and paired it with a short, white skirt that was sure to get her plenty of tips tonight.

“If you ever decide to get rid of some of this stuff, let me know so I can go shopping in your closet,” Ivy said, turning away from her reflection to grin at the redheaded beauty. “This set is gorgeous.”

“You can have it. I love that shade of purple but it doesn’t really love me back, unfortunately. And I’m sure Holden would love it if I gave some stuff away.”

“You sure? I can totally pay you for it.”

“Nah, don't worry about it. Half that stuff’s just collecting dust in the closet.”

“Well… thanks. I appreciate it.”

Frankie’s phone beeped twice, a second before the front door opened and closed, followed by the sound of Holden’s boots on the stairs.

“Hey, baby. I thought you’d still be at—oh.” Holden’s gaze landed on Ivy and he frowned. “Hello, Ivy. Frankie didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

There was a slight note of censure in his tone that had Ivy’s stomach flipping over. “Sorry. I had a, um, fashion emergency.”

“And I didn’t realize I had to get your permission to bring people over, Dad .”

Holden raised a brow, and again Ivy’s stomach did that familiar flip, even though she wasn’t the one in trouble.

“You don’t need my permission. But I would have appreciated a heads-up. I would do the same for you, before bringing someone to our home.”

The rebuke had twin spots of pink blossoming on Frankie’s cheeks. “Sorry. I should have told you. It was just kind of a spur of the moment thing. Because of… stuff.”

“I know.” Turning back to Ivy, his lips curved up in a sympathetic smile. “Cordelia told me about your fight. For what it’s worth, I think she realizes how badly she messed up. You should go home, let her explain before your shift. No sense being pissed at each other at the club.”

He had a point. One that she’d been arguing with herself about for hours. The last thing she wanted was a big blow-up at the club. And yet, the thought of going home left her feeling hollow inside. She offered up a weak smile and a nod for Holden, praying he wouldn’t push the issue.

“She’s not ready to talk to Cordelia yet. And I don’t blame her. Who the hell lies about having a husband ?”

Thank god for Frankie.

“I don’t think it’s that straightforward, little siren.”

“Seems pretty straightforward to me. If I keep shit from you, I get my ass beat. I bet it’s the same for Ivy here. How come we can’t have secrets, but the Doms can?”

And that was the other half of the argument Ivy had been having with herself. And the point she kept circling back around to. The point that never failed to reignite her anger, just when she thought she had gotten it back under control.

“That’s between Cordelia and Ivy.”

Jumping up from her spot on the bed, Frankie planted her fists on her hips. “Oh, so you can tell Ivy to go home and make nice but I can’t tell her she’s totally justified in not wanting to? That’s bullshit, Holden.”

“That isn’t what I said, Francesca. And unless you want a sore bottom before we even leave for the club tonight, I suggest you watch your tone with me, little girl.”

“Seriously? Our friends are going through a whole shitstorm right now and you’re worried about my tone ?”

Holden sighed and reached for the cuff of his dress shirt, popping open the buttons. “Ivy, would you mind giving us the room for a moment?”

“Um, yes, sir,” Ivy managed to squeak out before hurrying out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Curiosity got the better of her, however, and she stayed there in the hall, straining her ears to hear what came next.

Not that she had to strain at all. The sound of a palm meeting bare skin, followed by Frankie’s whining protests came through loud and clear.

“Ow, Daddy! This isn’t fair!”

Unlike Frankie’s voice, Holden’s was too deep and low for Ivy to hear, no matter how close she got to the door.

“But—” Whatever Frankie intended to say was cut off by another round of spanks and her cries of distress.

Again, Holden spoke in those too-quiet tones for Ivy to hear, but she was able to make out Frankie’s response.

“I know. I’m just so mad for Ivy. It’s not fair .”

This time when Holden spoke, it was loud enough for Ivy to make out the words. “I know it’s not fair, baby. But Cordelia is a good Domme and she loves Ivy. You have to trust that she has Ivy’s best interests at heart, no matter what happens.”

Trust. That was what it all came back to, wasn’t it?

And it wasn’t just that she felt like she couldn't trust Cordelia to be truthful. Cordelia hadn’t trusted her with her deepest, most painful secrets.

They were supposed to be partners, in bed and in life.

But while Ivy was expected to share everything with her Domme, to trust Cordelia with her very heart, she hadn’t been given that same trust in return.

And she wasn’t sure that was something they could ever come back from.