Hunted for Halloween

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

AURORA

“ D ad!” I shriek once I burst through the doors to our two story mansion like a little girl.

My dad's tall, lean figure graces my view. He's standing before one of the numerous maids in the house, holding two bottles of red wine. He instantly shoves them into her hands, striding towards me with delight.

“My beautiful Angel!” his deep voice resonates through the spacious living room.

I run towards him, throwing myself into his arms. My feet get suspended in the air when he raises me upwards and twirls me around like a princess, his hearty laughter traveling through the room.

I can't withhold the childlike giggles that exit my lips. That's it, there are no sides of me that I repress whenever I'm around my Dad. I might be in my late twenties but I'm still his little girl. I'm always going to be, no matter what.

He presses a kiss to my cheek when he drops me to my feet. “You look stunning, Angel.” He sounds like he's in awe, his gaze warm through his colorless medicated glasses.

My Dad has had those glasses since the first memory I have of him. But it doesn't in any way diminish how good he looks for a man who recently clocked fifty. His brown hair is tainted with sparse white tresses that's likely to sell out the fact that he's growing older. But what I consider his most attractive features are his eyes. Beautiful forest green eyes that have only ever looked at me like I'm the center of their world.

“Aw, thank you, Dad. You look equally dashing too.” I grin.

“What does an old man have to do to get his little girl home around here? Dinner? Remind me to host more of those just to have you here.” His eyes crease with softness, a grin lingering on his lips.

“Don't be dramatic, Dad.” I roll my eyes at him playfully. “I'm not going to live with you forever.”

He exhales. “You can always move back in, you know?”

Dad and I have only ever had each other, since we lost mom when I was born. I have only ever seen her in pictures, but I'm a spitting image of her with my platinum blonde hair, baby blue eyes and my delicate facial features. It used to hurt a lot growing up not having my mom around, but my Dad did his best with raising me into the woman I have become.

Although the lingering hurt has always stayed with me, there's also this sense of peace that comes with knowing that she's in a good place.

I wrap my arm around his, leading us further into the living room and grinning from ear to ear. “I don't want to move back in, Daddy. I'm a grown woman now. Grown enough to make my choices and know what I want.” I say softly.

“But you are always going to be my little girl!” he practically whines.

I giggle, smacking a kiss on his cheek.

When I turn to him, he reaches for the stray strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His smile turns warm, understanding, even.

“I heard you quit at Regal.” He murmurs. My spine stiffens a little.

Damn Lydia. That little snitch.

“Lydia,” I grit out, my expression turning sour. “She told you, didn't she?” Dad and Lydia share a father-daughter relationship that I ultimately regret right now.

I was hoping to tell him myself.

“She knew you were going to stall on telling me, that's why she beat you to it.” He sighs. “I thought we stopped hiding things from each other, Angel.”

“I was going to tell you!” I defend myself weakly, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

He doesn't say anything. He maintains his soft gaze, but I can see the hurt in it, making my chest knot tightly.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper. “I just didn't want you to be disappointed in me.”

He squints his eyes on me. “I could never be disappointed in you, Angel. I knew the job made you unhappy. I was elated when you quit. Now, you can finally pursue your dreams as a fashion designer. I'm so proud of you for doing the right thing, Angel.”

My eyes water, and I have to blink back my tears so I won't smear my makeup. I wrap my arms around him in a hug, breathing shakily.

“I love you so much, Dad.” I murmur.

He kisses my temple. “I love you too, Angel.”

We both laugh when we pull away from the hug. I kiss his cheek, grinning.

“I'll go check on Harriet in the kitchen.” I tell him.

“I love the sound of that. Christian will be here soon.” He responds, glancing at his watch. I rub his arm, walking away from him.

Christian is Dad's long time best friend. I don't really know him or remember him, but that's because he left the country when I was really little. He stayed in touch with Dad while he ran his business in England. I was never really curious to know more about him, but I know he has one heck of a strong bond with my Dad. So, I understand why Dad's so elated to have him over for dinner now that he's back in the country.

“Harriet!” I exclaim with excitement as I saunter into the kitchen.

The older lady looks up from the grilled chicken she's setting aside, a motherly smile blooming on her face. Her greasy brown hair is tucked in a ponytail, her honey brown eyes gleaming with softness.

“Aurora!” she walks towards me, engulfing me in a hug. I pat her back softly, laughing. “It's like you totally stayed away from us.” She adds when she pulls away.

“That's not true,” I groan, defending myself. “But, I'm not going to bore you with details. Oh, this smells heavenly!” I drag in an exaggerated inhale, soaking up the aroma that coats the air.

Harriet giggles.

“What can I help with? Do I set the table?” I glance around excitedly.

“There’s no way I'm letting you lift a finger in my kitchen.” Harriet counters, wrapping the chicken with a plastic wrap.

“But…”

“Out, out,” she sends me out with a smile, and I release a frustrated groan, huffing and striding out of the kitchen.

“Angel,” I hear dad call out to me from the living room when I stop by the floor length mirror in the lobby.

“Coming, Dad!” I holler in response.

I take a deep breath, assessing the way my blush pink silk dress molds against my curves. The soft hue not only compliments my skin, it enhances my feminine side more. My platinum blonde hair falls down my back in gorgeous beach waves, my makeup soft and enthralling.

I hope I impress Dad's best friend. He really seems to like him and I'd love more than anything to get along with him.

I plaster a smile on my face, my green eyes flaring with an accommodating glint. Then, I head for the living room.

“Look at you, man. It's been ages!” My Dad exclaims, wrapping his arms tightly around the muscular frame of his friend who I can't properly make out from where I'm standing.

“Um…gentlemen?” I drag out a nervous breath, still maintaining my smile.

My interruption leads to the duo disentangling from their hug and his face slowly comes into view, knocking the breath out of me.

I freeze, running my eyes up the length of his frame, my heart pounding terribly in my chest, hoping my worst fears aren't about to come true. There's no way I'd ever forget those whiskey eyes. The same eyes from two days ago. The same eyes that drew me in and watched me come like a slut.

His crisp white shirt stretches sinfully against his ripped taut pectoral muscles and large muscly arms. My eyes trailed down his upper torso, taking in his long, large veiny fingers and the familiar tattoo on the back of his palms. Those flame tattoos etched on his palms seem like they are mocking me, alongside his rings.

Oh, my God…

What have I done?

“Angel?” Dad's worried voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I snap my head away from him, unable to school my pale expression into place when it lands on my Dad. “Are you okay?”

I blink, holding my breath so that I can hold back the tears I'm desperate to hide. “Uh…I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” Christian’s deep, raspy voice fills the air.

The bastard sounds so controlled, like he didn't just realize that the woman he finger-fucked into oblivion on Halloween night is his best friend's daughter. Disgust rapidly fills me at his voice and I fight the urge to grit my teeth.

“I'm fine,” I practically spit the words out, mostly directing my scorn at him. “I'm just dizzy.” I put on a broad smile, sucking in some air.

Dad's heated stare burns a hole into my body, but I pull myself together.

“It's so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Carson. I'm Aurora.” I approach him with my heart thudding violently, stretching my hand forth for a shake.

“Please,” he takes my hand in his rough palm, “call me Christian, Aurora.” Those whiskey eyes hone in on my face, a zap of electricity impaling me to a spot as our hands touch.

“Don't you ever call me anything else.” Christian growls. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I think we should have dinner now.” I pull my hand out of his sharply, striding towards the dining area without waiting for them.

Harriet has already set the table, true to her words, but the sight of numerous luxurious dishes and the aroma that cocoons the air can’t rouse my desire to eat. My appetite has been crushed by the dark realization of what just occurred, and I have no doubt that the meal will taste like grass.

“I had forgotten how exquisite your taste is,” he speaks up, his voice coming out in a murmur, making the space between my legs clench.

I take my seat, folding my shaky hands on my lap. Dad occupies the seat before me and to my dissatisfaction, Christian takes the one right next to him. Our eyes meet again and my breath hitches. I'm consumed with hatred because I don't understand how he's keeping his shit together right now when I'm this close to losing my mind.

“It's all Meredith,” My Dad responds, his voice soft, full of remembrance at the mention of my mom's name. “It's so good to have you back, Christian.” He adds.

The maids troop into the dining area, dishing out our meal and filling our glasses with rich red wine. Every time I try not to look in his direction, I fail. And when I meet his gaze, it's like he's been looking at me before then.

I shift awkwardly in my seat, hating that I'm not wearing a bra under my dress because my nipples are acting so thirsty right now, seeking attention. His attention.

“Angel?” Dad calls out to me again.

I snap out of my thoughts, looking towards him. “Yes, Daddy?”

“Are you sure you are okay?” he asks, narrowing his eyes on me.

“Don't you want to be here? You were looking forward to the dinner.” He laments, worried.

My eyes fleetingly move between the duo, catching how Christian's jaw flexes. My cheeks burn when I realize why he seems irritated. I just called my Dad, Daddy.

“Why would you even think that? I'm glad to be here. I guess I'm just coming down with something. But, I'm okay, I promise.” I assure him with a smile that I struggle to make sure it appears real. “Can we eat now, please?” I ask, exasperated.

Dad's gaze lingers on me and he slowly nods.

I can put this behind me. I can do it. All I have to do is forget that night and act like he doesn't exist.

I'm sorry, but you fingered yourself to the thought of him last night before bed. The nosy voice in my head chips in and my cunt throbs greedily.

I'm so fucked.

We dive straight into the main course for tonight; grilled chicken paired with some salad and quinoa, alongside a glass of red wine. Maybe I'd have savored it better if I didn't just find out that my Halloween fling is my Dad's best friend.

My stomach churns as I scarf down some salad, suppressing my tears. I look down at my meal the whole time.

“So, Aurora,” I hate the way my name melts on his lips. I don't stop shredding my chicken and shoving it into my mouth. “What do you do? Indulge me. I'm curious.”

I clear my throat, not wanting to give into the urge of ignoring him. That'd be disrespectful to my Dad, who has no idea what is going on here.

“I-uh,” I drop my fork. “I worked with Regal, a fashion magazine, but I quit because I want to pursue a career as a fashion designer.” I swallow thickly, quickly reaching for my wine glass.

I take a sip, avoiding his gaze.

“You should see her sketches, Christian.” Dad speaks up proudly. “They are simply breathtaking!”

“I’d love to see them sometime.” He casually chips in. It's as if he knows it'd get my attention because my head swings in his direction.

He chews his food like he has all the time in the world, his penetrating gaze boring into me.

I open my mouth to speak but the vibration of my phone interrupts me.

Thank God.

I stare at the screen, breathing out in relief when I see that it's Lydia calling.

“Can I be excused? I have to take this.” Christian stares at me like he knows I'm running away, but fuck him.

“Of course, Angel. Take your time.” Dad tells me. I send him a stiff smile and practically dash out of the dining area.

Lydia has no idea how much she just saved me from sitting at the table all night with my clueless father and his best friend whom I came all over his fingers in a corn maze.

What the fuck have I done?