Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Good girl,” he says and drops a kiss on my cheek, “get dressed and I’ll go get the toast on.”
I eat toast as well as frosted flakes, back in my role as he wishes me a good day at school, telling me once again to stay away from Scott.
“Yes, Daddy, I promise I will.”
I drink juice while he drinks coffee, and I gather my things when he leaves for his pre-office shower.
Damn it. I call a cab when he’s out of view, hating how fucking sad I sound when I give the operator the address.
It’s strange how reality can take a total 180 in the blink of an eye.
I was quaking with nerves when the cab dropped me off at the bottom of User 762’s road, and now it’s the total opposite. I’m dreading the thought of being driven away.
I’m waiting with my backpack over my shoulder when he reappears, hair still damp, looking and smelling so damn good.
“I don’t want to go to school today,” I tell him, “I don’t feel so good.” I put a hand on my tummy.
He laughs at that. “Nice try,” he says, “like I haven’t heard that one before. Nice touch, in fact, Holly. You really have gone above and beyond. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I say, staying in character for him.
A toot of a horn tells me my taxi has arrived.
It’s with a heavy heart that I step up to him and he leans down to accept my peck on the lips.
“Seriously,” I say, “thank you.”
He winks, pats my ass.
“Off you go, and work hard at school.”
“I will,” I tell him and head for the door, stepping outside into cold reality.
“You ok, love?” the cab driver asks me as I slide into the back seat. “You look a bit… dazed.”
“Just woke up,” I tell him. And missing my daddy already.
I tell myself it’s just my job.
And what a crazy fucking job it’s turning out to be.
Chapter Thirteen
Ebony sees I’m online. A message pings through as my cab arrives back in London.
How was it? Did you like being naughty little Holly all night long?
She has no idea how much I liked it. My stomach is still churning with the want, need, to go back there right now, to Daddy’s house. The thought of him is still so alive in my head it’s making me dizzy.
User 762 was such a powerful figure. So caring, but so stern. So loving, but so commanding. The thought that it’s over now – after just one single night – feels wrong. Again, oh the irony.
It’s fucked up on so many levels, but my emotions are singing to a crazy, frazzled tune.
I loved it, it was weirdly amazing, I tell her, but what I really want to say is I loved him. I loved Holly’s daddy.
And… her next message says.
I’m still trying to find the words to describe it, how to even begin. I type and delete, type and delete. How the hell do I say it? I’m crazy about a stranger I met last night.
She must see my stilted typing.
Are you struggling? Morning after syndrome?
I look at her message, puzzled.
What’s morning after syndrome?
The cab pulls up at my place. It looks like more of a shithole than ever after the beauty of Daddy’s. I don’t even want to go in.
I’m stood looking at the wooden door, with its chipped black paint and loose handle when my phone buzzes with Ebony’s next message.
Morning after syndrome. It’s a term we use. Look it up in the chatroom, or I’ll give you a call about it, if you like? I’ve just got in from an all-nighter with Mr Medic, and Stephen’s done the school run.
Great, thanks, I say. Give me five.
At least it gives me the impetus to go inside.
I grab a glass of water from our gross excuse for a kitchen, stacked high with dirty plates, then head up to my room. I toss my backpack and coat aside and throw myself down on my bed.
Urgh.
I stare up at the ceiling, still in pigtails and my school uniform, already pining another round in Wrenshaw.
I want Daddy again.
I reach my laptop from the dressing table when Ebony’s call starts pinging through. I’m virtually lying down when I click answer, and she does a double take. My pigtails must be sprawled across my pillows.
“Holy fuck, Ella. You make a convincing schoolgirl. I wondered if it was really you then.”
My laugh is shallow. “Yeah, well, I wish it was convincing enough to be true right now. I’d love some more time as young Holly the naughty schoolgirl.”
She sighs, her eyes scoping mine out through the screen.
“You missing him? Did you want to stay?”
“Want the honest answer?”
“Always, yeah.”
I place a hand on my stomach. It’s still churning. My brain is still trying to process things, like a spiral of a whirlwind, everything out of control.