Page 15 of Promised To A Menace

This shit couldn't be real.

There was no fucking way.

Behind him, Jefferson watched us like he had front-row seats to a damn soap opera. He didn't interrupt, didn't move, didn't do shit but sit there with that same calm expression on his face.

“Okay, that's enough,” he finally said. “You delivered. Your obligation is fulfilled. Go live your life.”

I slowly turned my head toward him. Go live his life?

My father had just handed over mine, and this motherfucker was telling him to go live his?

“Thank you, Jefferson,” my dad said.

I looked at him so fast my neck damn near hurt.

Thank you? This nigga had to be fucking kidding me.

My father finally looked at me, but I could barely recognize the man standing in front of me. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my forehead. And I didn’t move, didn’t hug him, didn’t say shit.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Then he turned around and walked out of the fucking door. I stared after him, waiting for him to come back, but he didn’t.

The door closed behind him. And just like that, my father had left me.

My chest tightened as I stared at the closed door. I wanted to run after him. Scream. Cry. Beat on his damn chest and demand he take me home. But before I could decide what the hell to do, I felt eyes on me again.

I slowly turned around, and Jefferson was giving me a once-over from behind the desk. The way his gaze traveled over me made me suddenly too aware of the little white dress hugging my body.

An hour ago, I felt fine as hell in it. Now I wished I’d worn a damn sweatsuit. He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number.

“Come get her.”

That was all he said before hanging up.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Come get me for what?”

He leaned back in his chair.

“Amanda will be up here in a minute.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you.”

His smile returned. I didn’t like this motherfucker.

“Where is she taking me?”

“Downstairs. You need to get ready for the auction.”

My brows pulled together.

“The what?”

“The auction.”

“Auction?!” My voice bounced off the walls. “What the fuck you mean, auction?”

Before he could answer, somebody knocked on the door.