Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel by Rebel Wild (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

to hear if one of them was him, but I never heard his voice again.

“We’re losing him,” I heard a male voice say right before the line went dead.

“No!”

I dialed the number back and was transferred to the ICU, but a nurse put me on hold. I waited for what seemed like a lifetime for her to get back on the line and tell me what happened.

“Miss Warren,” someone finally came on.

“Is my father okay?”

Deep down, I never doubted he would be. He was Roger Warren, the strongest man I ever knew. He wouldn’t die. He couldn’t.

“Miss Warren, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Mr. Warren’s heart stopped beating and unfortunately we weren’t able to save him.”

“No,” I said.

I dropped the phone somewhere on my way out the door. I ran down the stairs. All I could think was that I wasn’t supposed to be alone when I got this type of news. I found myself in front of Mr. Garrett’s bedroom door. It’s the one place I’m not allowed to be, but my need for him to comfort me outweighed everything else and I pounded on the door.

The next thing I remember is putting my arms around his neck and him lifting me and carrying me to his bed. I don’t even remember him leaving to get my rabbit or me even falling asleep, but I must have. Mr. Garrett is sleeping hard behind me so I carefully untangle myself from the hold he has me in and sneak out of his room to go to my own.

“Sydney,” Joe says to me as I make my way toward the stairs. “Is everything okay, hun?”

Who would have thought when I first met him that he would care at all about me?

“Fine,” I tell him a lie to ease his concern. “I’m fine. I just didn’t want to wake Mr. Garrett. I’m going to my room.”

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

I nod my head and go up the stairs. I enter my room and see my phone is right where I dropped it by the door. I pick it up to check it and the conversation I had with Daddy before he died comes rushing back to my mind again full force. I can’t believe he said those things to me. He called me a whore.

The pain of his last words to me takes hold and refuses to let me go as realization hits. I will never get a chance to make this right with him. I will never get a chance to change his opinion of me. I will never get the chance to earn his forgiveness for going against his wishes.

He died hating me, and I can’t bear it. It is killing me and I need to escape it. I don’t want to feel it. I want to feel anything but this. I notice the playroom key hanging from the wall at its place next to my door and I remember Mr. Garrett’s words. I was supposed to be studying while he sat next to me in the library finishing his work, but I couldn’t help but engage him.

“But why do people want to be in this type of lifestyle when it involves punishments?” I asked him.

“Most people accept it as part of the deal. The pleasure far outweighs the punishment,” he told me. “Some people are turned on by it. However, others use it as an escape from stress, a way to replace mental pain with something more tactile.”

“Replacing mental pain,” I repeat what he told me as I grab the key and hurry to the playroom.

I open the door and let the familiar lemon, leather, and wood scent envelop me. My body starts to tingle in anticipation as it always does when I first enter in here.

I strip myself of my pajamas and wait for Mr. Garrett to come and take my pain away.

“Sydney?” I call for her as I wake to find her missing.

Her rabbit is abandoned and the place where she was sleeping is cold. I go out in search of her.

“She went up to her room,” Joe tells me from where he’s perched in the great room.

“When?”

“Less than an hour ago.”

“Shit,” I say rushing up the stairs, taking them two by two with Joe right behind me, apparently sensing my urgency. “I don’t think she’s in the right frame of mind to be left alone,” I explain to him as we approach her end of the hall.

“Can you blame her?”

I see that the playroom door is ajar. I open it a crack to see her standing naked in the middle of the room. Seeing me, she kneels in her submissive position.

“Leave us alone,” I tell Joe before I open the door farther, not wanting to give him a glimpse of what he is nowhere near prepared to see.

“Tristan—”

“Leave, okay? I can handle her,” I tell him. I’m almost tempted to sic Brianna on him, but he reluctantly does as I ask.

“Sydney,” I call her name as I approach her. The sight of her disturbs me: naked and completely still on her knees. Any other time my cock would be painfully engorged at her perfect submission, but right now it just looks wrong. I told Joe I can handle her, but looking at her as she silently cries, I’m not so sure I can. This is the first time in my life I’ve entered this room without feeling in complete and total control of what’s about to happen.

“Sir.” She says with a sniff of her nose.

“Let’s get you up and out of here.”

“But your submissive is requesting to be punished, sir.”

“Sydney, why would I punish you?”

“Because I’m asking you to, sir.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Fine,” she says, getting up. She goes over to the assortment of paddles that are hanging on the wall. They are the very same paddles that brought her so much fear the first time she entered this room. She unhooks the thickest