His Feisty Human Mate

7 - The Return Home

Savannah

    Sydney seemed sweet, and I appreciated the hell out of her for giving me a bag full of cute clothes.  That was something I never had growing up.  

    Whenever my worthless father did happen to bring some clothes home, they were always stained and worn out already.  I couldn’t remember ever having nice clothes after my mother died.

    After changing in the bathroom, I returned to Jameson in the living room and immediately asked, “Can we make that trip to my father’s house now?”

    “If you’re up for it,” he warily responded with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

    “I am feeling surprisingly good.  I am up for whatever,” I assured him with a smile, and I was being completely honest.  Getting up and moving around made the last of the aching quickly diminish.

    “Let’s do this,” Jameson coyly replied while rubbing his palms together.

    “Bro, don’t do anything foolish,” Sydney piped up with a serious look on her face.

    “Don’t worry, sis.  I’ll be good,” Jameson informed her, but I had the distinct feeling that he would be anything but good if we ran into my father.

    “You better,” Sydney huffed before storming out of his room.

    I glanced at Jameson with a questioning look, but that didn’t get me anything but a little chuckle, and I didn’t mind hearing that one bit.  I found his husky chuckle to be pleasing on my ears.

    After Jameson grabbed his keys, he held his hand out to me and asked, “Are you sure about this?”

    “Absolutely!” I insisted while placing my hand on top of his.

    Without another word, Jameson led me out of his room and through the large mansion that was a sight to see.  It had beautiful marble flooring and the walls were painted dark blue with what appeared to be little stars painted in white.

    When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed there was a little wooden statue on each side of the banisters.  One statue was in the form of an eagle, and the other statue was a crescent moon.  They were both beautifully crafted, and I admired the intricate details added for the eagle’s wings and the moon’s craters.

    The front door appeared to be made of oak, and it appeared to be larger and sturdier than most normal doors.  Above the door was a beautiful stained-glass window that was made to resemble a full moon in the night sky.

    It was then that I remembered Jameson referred to the Moon Goddess.  I had never heard of such a thing, but there was no other logical explanation for why these strange creatures were created, or for why I felt those magical sparks whenever Jameson touched me.

    Once we got outside, Jameson led me straight to his badass Porsche, then he opened the passenger door and waited for me to get seated.  As soon as I pulled my feet inside, Jameson closed my door, then he rushed to the driver’s side and folded into the car.

    Neither of us said much on the drive back to the city.  We were both lost in our own thoughts, I had lots of them bouncing around in my mind.

    Everything about my life was changing at such a fast pace, it was hard to keep up.  I had this gorgeous man claiming to be my mate, and I couldn’t deny the fact that I felt something strange happening within me.  It was like my body and mind wanted to be near Jameson at all times, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

    So many men had done awful things to me over the years, and my father was the worst one of them all.  I would never be able to forgive him for all the horrible things he did, and a part of me hoped to see Jameson rip the piece of s**t to shreds.  

    When we reached the city, I navigated Jameson to my father’s house, and I was relieved to not see his old, beat up pick-up truck parked out front.  With haste, I jumped out of Jameson’s car and sprinted to the front door.

     As soon as I got inside, I ran through the house to the room where I left my mother’s keepsakes.  As soon as I reached it, I dropped to my knees and slid my fingers between the wooden planks that made up the floor.  Using every bit of my strength, I yanked on the board until it came loose from the floor joist beneath it.

    Once Jameson realized what I was doing, he tried to help, but I insisted he stay by the door and watch for my father.  He didn’t seem to mind and immediately took his post at the doorway.

    I was yanking on the last board when I suddenly heard a loud thud from behind me.  Right away, I glanced back to see Jameson unconscious at the doorway and a familiar pair of brown boots heading in my direction.

    While hastily attempting to scramble to my feet, I stumbled over the loose boards, causing my foot to fall between the missing boards.  Unable to stop my father from reaching me, I started sobbing, “Please, father, I tried to stop him from taking me.  I would have come back sooner, but he wouldn’t let me.”

    All he said in response was, “What have I told you about lying to me?” 

    The next thing I knew, his grease covered fingers were tangled in my hair, and he was yanking my head back, then his fist connected with my face, instantly making black dots blur my vision.  

    It felt like he crushed my cheek bone, and there was blood oozing down the side of my face, but that didn’t stop me from begging, “Please, father!  You don’t have to do this!  I’ll do whatever you say!”

    Unfortunately, my pleas fell on deaf ears.  My father was in a total rage, and I was the reason for it.  No way was he gonna take it easy on me.  He proved me correct on that, when I took another blow to my face, causing it to be lights out for me.