Saved By A Dark Billionaire

“We have to wait until he leaves, and then we can go in through the back. There’s a window that never locked and I’m pretty sure he never fixed it,” I instructed Daisy and Lucas.

Little David sat in Abi’s car seat in the back, peacefully sleeping while we adults felt like we’d received adrenaline shots. Joe had called me yesterday to tell me Daisy had showed up at his door. She’d lost my number but remembered where he worked. She had David in one arm with the other cradled to her chest, broken. According to Joe, and now I see for myself, she had a black eye and a cut on her eyebrow.

I know dad is going insane searching for Daisy and David right now. I was glad she didn’t leave David behind the way mom left me. Of course, David is only a baby, which may be why she couldn’t leave him. I know it will complicate things, but since Joe took her to the police station to press charges, it will make things easier for her to get sole custody. Lucas is hiring one of the best family lawyers to make sure Dad is never allowed time to live with David. Dad will never change, no matter who the woman is. He needs help, more than any of us can give him.

“We’ll grab your things and then you can stay in the flat my mother left me. There are women there who have gone through the same thing as you and will help you with David. I called Penny already, and she’s having clothes donated for you and David, so you don’t have to worry about those things. We need to get your important documents and anything you absolutely can’t live without. Do not worry about anything else. Got it?” I reiterated, needing her to understand we were not packing all of her things, but grabbing the few things she absolutely needs.

She nodded her head, still not speaking. I am guessing she feels shame, or perhaps embarrassment for needing help from the people she assumed were liars and insane. I was happy she sought help the moment dad hit her.

I watched as Dad slammed the front door open, cursing beneath his breath as he got into his beat-up pickup truck. His engine sputtered to life and, with a peel of his tires, he reversed out of his driveway and onto the road. Daisy and I quickly got down, making our way around the back of the broken window in my old room. I pulled on it, holding my breath, until it began to crack. For once, I was glad this window was still broken.

I climbed in, scraping my arm on the broken window sill. I winced, but pushed past the sting and raced to the back door to open it for Daisy. She can’t climb with a broken arm. The familiar smell of alcohol and cigarettes permeated the air, bringing me right back to my dark teenage years. I kept looking over my shoulder as if at any moment dad would come marching down the hall demanding we spar. The adrenaline was coursing through my veins as we rushed through the house, collecting anything Daisy told me to grab.

My Knight: He’s back, get out, or hide.

I read Lucas’ text a little too late, as the front door knob jiggled with Dad’s attempt to unlock the door.

“Hide,” I whispered to Daisy, who stared at me petrified. Her mind did not choose flight or fight, it chose freeze since she was not used to high-stress situations, shocking her in place. Fuck! The front door swung open, hitting the wall behind it hard enough to make a hole where the doorknob hit. Dad’s eyes scanned the house, realizing what was happening. His eyes locked on mine with a deadly fury, and I knew I was about to fight for my life.

“Daisy, run.” I told her as calmly as I could. She snapped out of it, grabbing her things and racing to the back door. Dad gave chase to her, but I stood in his way, preventing him from getting to her. He swung his fist back, ready to punch me, but I dodged it with surprising ease.

“What the hell are you doing, Olive? Get out of my house!” He fumed, bringing his fist back again.

“No!” I yelled back, dodging his fist and hitting his side with my own. “I warned you if you hurt her, I would help her escape you. I wasn’t kidding, Dad. You fucked up again, and this time you won’t have time to break her the way you broke mom. I won’t let her stay with you for a minute, to instill fear in her and David.”

I could feel the fear leaving me with every word I spoke. I felt strong as I stood up to him. His punches were not connecting as I danced around him the way I do in the ring. Dad had gotten rusty without me around to spar. I am guessing he stopped fighting in the ring, too. He extended his leg out, catching me off guard, as dad was never one to kick but only punch. His foot hit me right in the stomach, knocking my breath out. The following punch was harder to dodge as it grazed my side. I pushed past the pain, kicking him in the side, putting myself in a precarious situation as he grabbed my leg with his underarm and held it in place. I hopped awkwardly, trying not to fall as he pulled me around.

“You need to get help, Dad.”

It shattered my heart to see him like this, and I don’t know why. All I could see when I looked at him was his brokenness, although his sadness should have elicited fury in me. I couldn’t understand what had caused Dad to be this way, and I didn’t know if I ever would, but I felt a deep sadness for him.

His response was to elbow my knee, bending it back as he tried to break it. My other leg jumped up, using it to push off dad and try to release myself from his grip. I freed myself, but landed with a hard thud on my back, rolling away as he tried to stomp on me as if I were a roach. I jumped up, punching him in the stomach a few times. His abs were like a hard muscled shield, causing little to no pain from my small punches.

I was too close to this, not thinking clearly because of who the man before me was. My lungs filled as I took a deep breath, calming the disarray in my mind. I reminded myself this was like any other fight. I need to stop thinking about him as my dad and more than an opponent in the ring. My eyes observed him, looking for any slight movement of his muscles.

I let myself enjoy the moment the way I do in the ring. I danced around him again, twirling and avoiding his every punch and kick. He grew more furious with every move I dodged. He was losing himself to his frustrations, and I knew this was when I had him. As his movements became fatigued, his punches lost their power and speed. I dropped, sweeping my leg from behind him, and knocking him down on the floor. I jumped on him and punched him right in the throat, causing him to cough. My fists punched his side multiple times, but with each punch, a tear would drop from my eyes.

“You’re a terrible father. I needed more from you. I needed so much more, but you gave me so little. The little you gave me came with your punches and small car rides to school. I needed a father, especially when my mother left me, but I got an alcoholic instead.” I spilled my heart out as I continued to punch him beneath him. He stilled as I spoke, taking every punch without a fight anymore. “You broke me, you and the hell at school pushed me to slit my wrists. Even after that, you didn’t change. It took you less than a month to go back to your usual self. All I ever wanted was to feel loved, appreciated, wanted, but all I got was neglect. You’re not a dad, and I honestly hoped you would change. I hoped maybe David could have you as a father even if I couldn’t, but you proved me wrong again. You don’t change Dad. Please, get help. Use this day as motivation, and get help.” My voice faded as I went, growing smaller with each punch.

I got off him, looking down at the broken man before me. The one I could never beat while I lived here, but easily defeated tonight. I felt so many emotions it was hard to tell which was more prevalent: hate or love, or perhaps a brokenness inside me. I let a few more tears escape me before wiping them away and walking out the front door.

I ran towards the car, jumping into the passenger seat. Lucas didn’t waste time racing off into the night. He noticed my bloody and bruised knuckles, grabbing my thigh instead, squeezing it comfortingly. The car ride was silent, along with the tears that escaped me. I may be bloody and bruised, but somehow I felt healed. I needed this night to win a fight, to spill my guts out to him. Maybe one day he will get help and change himself.

Get better, Dad.