Good Girls Kneel E-Book

Mia Kingsley

• Herausgeber: Black Umbrella Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 141

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

A church. Someone in there will protect me from the armed maniacs who are after me, right? As I frantically push open the large double doors, the gust of wind extinguishes most of the flickering candle flames. The rain drips from my soaked wedding dress onto the stone floor. Then I see the priest standing in the dim candlelight, a bloody razor in his hand. Obviously, I am not the only one who has sins to confess. . .   This is a dark daddy romance.

Leseprobe

GOOD GIRLS KNEEL

MIA KINGSLEY

A DARK DADDY ROMANCE

CONTENTS

Good Girls Kneel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About the Author

GOOD GIRLS KNEEL

A church. Someone in there will protect me from the armed maniacs who are after me, right?

As I frantically push open the large double doors, the gust of wind extinguishes most of the flickering candle flames. The rain drips from my soaked wedding dress onto the stone floor.

Then I see the priest standing in the dim candlelight, a bloody razor in his hand.

Obviously, I am not the only one who has sins to confess. . .

This is a dark daddy romance.

1

The rain was pelting down even harder against the windows as Bridget stepped out of the spacious dressing room. If I hadn’t had the champagne glass in my hand, I’d have probably put my hands over my mouth just like Jessica.

“God, Bri, you look beautiful.” Lisa uttered the words with a choked voice.

With a slight smile, Bridget stroked the white wedding dress smooth. “Really?”

I nodded eagerly. “It’s like from a dream. Really breathtaking!”

Bridget’s smile widened as she stepped in front of the mirror. She turned sideways and then did a twirl.

“I can’t believe that you found the perfect dress on the first try.” Jessica shook her head. Her eyes sparkled suspiciously and she kept on blinking as she fought back tears.

“Please!” Bridget snorted and took her own glass from the low-end table in front of the couch where we bridesmaids sat. “None of you are counting the hundreds of hours I spent online making my pre-selections.” She raised her glass. “To the perfect dress.”

Lisa raised her glass too. “To the perfect bride, you mean.”

We laughed and clinked glasses to the crack of thunder outside. After we all took a sip, we turned inward to our own thoughts for a moment.

For one, I still couldn’t believe I had been in New York for four years. When Bridget announced that her boyfriend Charles had proposed to her and that she had accepted, it had briefly seemed to me that they’d only been together for a few months and that they had met at the first party I attended with my new friends.

“Since I’ve found my dress, you know what that means.” Bridget gave us a challenging look before clapping her hands. “Time for you!”

I glanced over my shoulder into the sales room. The saleswoman was advising another bride and wasn’t paying attention to us. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “Don’t we get in trouble if we all try on dresses?”

Bridget raised her immaculately plucked eyebrow before walking up to me and showing me the price tag on her dream in white. “The shop belongs to us now, so to speak. Besides, we can all behave ourselves. Try on wedding dresses, take a decent selfie, and then I hand her my credit card. I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Reluctantly, I followed Lisa and Jessica to the long racks where the wedding dresses hung, each more voluminous than the last. Lisa and Jessica were much more enthusiastic than me. Which was probably mainly due to the fact that the two had also been going steady for a few months and were already dreaming of their own weddings. I was the only one among us fearing commitment.

That’s why I didn’t feel so great trying on overpriced white tulle. I pulled the first dress off the rack, which only cost five-figures, unlike the six on Bridget’s price tag.

But as the daughter of a wealthy senator and future wife of a wealthy heir, money was nothing to worry about.

Not for me either, but that would mean having to talk to my father and I tried to avoid that as much as possible.

I took my handbag into the changing room and stripped off my clothes before making my way through the many layers of fabric so I could put on the dress. Good grief. I was huffing and puffing and even thought for a moment that I might be suffocating as I got the dress half on. My breasts got stuck and I had to reach down into the neckline with both hands until I finally got everything in place. I turned to the mirror and held the fabric together behind my back. It didn’t look bad, but it wasn’t enough for me to have the instant orgasm that Jessica was experiencing in the changing room next door.

“Girls!” she moaned. “I need to get married, too. My dress is perfect!”

I pulled the curtain back and Bridget turned to me. “Fawn, you look like an angel. Turn around and I’ll help you with the zipper.”

“Isn’t that good enough?”

She looked at me sternly until I submitted with a roll of my eyes. With one big tug, Bridget yanked up the zipper. I could barely breathe for a second as my breasts got pushed up before everything finally slipped into place.

Lisa, meanwhile, had come out. “God, Fawn, I hate you. Let me guess, you’re not interested in playing along so you’ve taken the first dress you saw.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks. “Uh... no,” I said, unconvincingly.

Jessica poked her head out. “Great. Now I think my dress is stupid again. Fawn, how do you always do that?”

“I didn’t do anything,” I protested.

Bridget brushed my hair forward over my shoulders. “I just don’t understand why you don’t have a boyfriend. Take a look at yourself.”

Good God. If there is one thing I hated, it was being the center of attention. I was well aware that I fit the classic definition of beauty with my blonde hair and blue eyes, but that didn’t change the fact that I had only ever received unwanted attention in my life, which is why I avoided putting myself too much in the foreground. Being a part of the pack was good enough for me.

My friends didn’t know about my childhood or, the even bigger secret, who my father was. That’s why I always kept my head down and didn’t do social media.

That being said, after seeing how things turned out for my mother, I didn’t really think I needed a man to be happy.

I managed a half-hearted smile. “You look fabulous.”

With a huff, Lisa crossed her arms. “Not as great as you.”

“Nonsense. I look like a corpse and my hair is hanging down, flopping around. Can we talk about something else? The selfie? Bridget, you wanted to take a selfie.”

“Yeah.” She went into her changing room and came back with her cell phone in hand when the old-fashioned bell over the shop door announced a new customer.

“Fawn,” a hoarse voice said behind me.

I slowly turned around. “Dad?”

My father was soaked to the skin, alarmingly pale, and he was pressing a hand against his side under his jacket. “Come.”

I had so many questions, but I knew my father well enough to know when the situation was absolutely serious. That was instantly clear since he was supposed to be in Las Vegas and he never came to New York because he had a lot of enemies here.

Without offering any explanation to my friends, I followed my dad outside. It was cold and dark out there. Within seconds, I was covered with goosebumps and the dress had been soaked in the rain. I guess I would now have to buy it.

“How did you find me?”

My father looked at me as if I should know better. “I’ve installed a tracker on your phone. You are and will always be my only child, Fawn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have much time. You have to listen carefully to me.”

“Okay.” I gave myself a bear hug in the hope of warming myself up.

“Here.” With his free hand, he struggled to pull a USB stick out of the pocket of his jacket. “Take this.” He handed me the stick.

When he withdrew his fingers, I had red marks on the palm that the rain immediately washed away.

I closed my fist. “Dad, you’re scaring me. What the hell’s going on?”

“Take the stick to Brody Young.”

I looked at him incredulously. “To Vegas? Should I leave everything behind to take a USB stick to Vegas?”

“Don’t go by plane.” He looked at me intensely. “You have to stay under the radar.”

“I don’t understand any of this. Why?”

Suddenly Dad gasped and leaned back against the wall. My stomach cramped as I pulled his jacket aside and saw the blood oozing from between the fingers as he pressed against the huge wound.

“You need to go to the hospital.”

Without warning, Dad grabbed my upper arms and shook me. “You’re not listening, Fawn. Run! Run and take the stick to Brody! You hear me? Everything depends on it.”

I stared at him, tears welling up inside. My throat was so tight that I couldn’t say anything. I had always hoped it would never come to this. That’s why I had fled to the other side of the country. But obviously you can’t run away from your family.

He stroked my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Fawn.”

As I looked down, his blood was dripping from my cheek onto the white wedding dress, leaving pink stains as it was thinned out by the rain.

I looked up to see my friends standing in the window watching us. My “normal” life in New York was over.

That realization came like a sledgehammer and shook me to the core. I squared my shoulders. “Brody Young.”

Brody was a little older than me and the son of Dad’s most trusted partner. While I had no idea how to get to Vegas under the radar, I would. For Dad.

Because at least he had tried to keep me out of that part of his life. Even though he had obviously failed, I felt obliged to him.

I was looking for the right words to say goodbye because I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. The wound looked bad and I was sure that Dad wouldn’t go to the hospital. I had no idea if he had any allies here in New York.

“Run,” he managed once more, as his breath failed.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, darling. Now go. Don’t worry about me.”

With the last of my strength, I managed to nod as a black SUV with screeching tires turned the corner. It came to an abrupt stop.

My Dad drew his gun and I took two steps back. My friends in the bridal shop looked on in shock while I could see that the owner already had the phone in her hand.

Four men jumped out of the SUV.

“There she is!” one of them shouted.

I didn’t need any more motivation. I turned around, grabbed the poofy layers of the dress, and ran.

2

My ballet flats weren’t designed for running, especially not in the pouring rain as I ran for my life.

I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t dare turn around. Instead, I skidded around the corner, wondering where I might hide around there. I squeezed my way past three dumpsters and then got a running start in the hope of climbing the chain link fence. The sound of tearing told me that the dress had gotten caught. I didn’t have time to worry about it. Instead, I dug my fingers into the fabric and tugged until I was free. Then I jumped and hurried on.

“There she is,” someone yelled in the distance behind me.

Though my lungs were on fire, I sprinted toward the end of the block and looked around. Houses, houses, shops, a school. No. No. No.

My eyes stayed on the church at the end of the street. It had a churchyard in back. I wasn’t keen on walking around there at night, but crouching behind a tombstone would probably be a good place to hide. The men would surely dismiss the cemetery and instead look for me in the houses instead.

So I mobilized my last bit of strength and fought against the burgeoning panic. Now was not the time to think about the fact that I was in a wedding dress and had no purse on me. No bag, no sensible clothes, and no money. I swallowed hard.

I would have no choice but to hang around here before sneaking home, hoping my dad’s enemies and the police weren’t waiting for me there.

The large gate to the cemetery was locked. I started crying. The rain made it almost impossible to see, but I instinctively sensed that the men were close.

Immediately I took the steps to the church entrance two at a time and pushed my way through the large double doors. Lightning flashed across the sky as I closed the doors behind me before leaning against the heavy wood for a moment to catch my breath.

The candles flickered under the sudden rush of air and some went out. It was nice and warm inside, at least. I’d probably have found it too hot under normal circumstances, but I was standing there, soaked through in a wedding dress.

As I took my first step forward, I realized that I wasn’t alone at all.

A priest was standing in front of the altar and eyed me curiously. I realized what a sight I must have been. Alone, in a wet, bloody, torn wedding dress.

“Excuse me, Father, I just wanted... I am... I...” I gestured uncertainly with my thumb over my shoulder because, with the best of intentions, I had no explanation for my getup.

I stepped into the aisle, past the pews, and made my way to the altar. I then wished I hadn’t.

Because then I would not have seen the corpse at his feet. He tried to hide the bloody razor in the folds of the long black robe he was wearing, the name of which I can’t ever seem to remember, but I had already seen it.

The priest’s eyes shifted from me to the corpse and he sighed. “Would it be any consolation if I say he deserved it?”

I was already turning to run. “That’s none of my business, Father.”

“Oh.” He chuckled softly. “I’m not a priest.” With a smile, he wiped the razor on the black fabric of his robe before putting it away.

“But...” I waved my hand and pointed to his robe.

“Oh, that. A long story. But my name is Bishop, in case that helps.”

I didn’t know what to say. But it was clear to me that I needed to get out of here. Fast. It was no longer just the men out there coming for me, but I had also managed to walk in on a murderer. Bishop stood tall and ran a hand through his dark brown hair.

I took another step back.

Before I had the chance to make a decision about what to do, the doors behind me flew open. The new gust of wind put out a few more candles.

“There she is!” a voice bellowed.

I didn’t even get a chance to turn around. Bishop drew a gun and fired twice. I cringed. One. Two. The shots reverberated loudly and the church now smelled of gunpowder.

Slowly I dropped the hands that I had used to cover my ears, one of them clenched because I had somehow managed to hold on to the USB stick despite everything.

The guy must have gone completely nuts. I was right in the line of fire and he hadn’t seemed to care at all.

“Shit,” he said, putting the gun away. “Were those your friends? I always forget to ask before I shoot.”

I stood motionless as he walked past me with great strides and knelt beside the new corpses. He gave them a poke and took out their wallets, which he then studied carefully.

“No,” I replied flatly. I had absolutely no idea what to do anymore. My fingers were already cramped from clutching the USB stick.

A cell phone went off and Bishop pulled it out of one of the men’s pockets. With a furrowed brow, he read aloud: “Pierce is dead. Do you have the girl?”

I wanted to cry, but miraculously I kept myself under control. Pierce was my father, Franklin Pierce. The man who gave me my blue eyes and the dimples when I smiled. The man who had reluctantly let me go to New York so I wouldn’t get caught up in his dark business dealings. In the end, it hadn’t worked out as well as we both had wanted.

Bishop gave me a look. “I take it that you’re the girl in question?”

I nodded. My chest was constricted. I could hardly breathe, let alone speak. My father was dead. I didn’t have anyone anymore. A few acquaintances in Vegas and some former friends in New York who were probably talking to the police right this second. I needed to disappear. Urgently.