Ruthless King

She shook her head.

“I had to leave for work and Gerald stayed here with you. You had a nightmare, and when he came in to check on you, well, you thought he was your father.”

“Oh no.” What the heck? She couldn’t remember any of that? “What did I do?”

“You were hysterical. Gerald called me and I returned to find you hiding in the closet. You were so scared.”

“I’m so sorry,” she told him.

His mouth dropped open as he gaped at her. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes! I’m sorry you had to come back to take care of me.” God, that was mortifying. “You don’t need to stay if you have things to do. I really can look after myself.”

“No, baby, you don’t understand. I’m the one who is sorry. I left you and you had a nightmare; then, you were so scared you had to hide. I shouldn’t have left you while you were ill.”

“But you had business to attend to. That comes first.”

There was a strange look on his face.

“Really. I’m feeling much better.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “You don’t look better.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I feel awful. I’m sick.”

Regent’s lips twitched. “Poor baby. I promise I won’t leave you again. You really don’t remember anything?”

She frowned. She couldn’t remember the nightmare.

But a few images danced through her mind.

A man looming over her.

Fear.

Huddling in the closet.

Your father is dead.

She shuddered. God, it had felt like he wasn’t. Like he was right there.

I killed him.

A gasp escaped before she coughed. Regent leaned over and grabbed her glass of water, holding it to her lips.

“Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I must be having delusions still because I thought I remembered you telling me that you killed my father.”

“I did kill your father.”

Holy. Moly.

Mind. Blown.

She sat there for a long moment until she realized Regent was as still as a statue.

He was probably worried she’d tell someone or freak out.

So she leaned forward and gave him a fierce look. “Good. The asshole deserved it. He terrorized Mama and me all of our lives. He would fly off the handle at the smallest thing. While he wasn’talways violent, there were times when he was. We weren’t even allowed to leave the house most of the time. When we did, we had to be very careful. I had a childhood filled with fear. Mama rarely smiled until after he died. So good. I’m glad you killed him.”