Her Dominant SEAL(12)

He thought back to that fateful day when his life had changed. It had started with that wonderful Senior Skip Day at this very spot, after having gotten to third base with Catherine Walker. She’d been a nice girl, who’d been eager to find out what a home run was like. Drake’s conscience just hadn’t been up to taking her that final step.

He’d gone home at one o’clock in the afternoon feeling like a dumbass for passing up a sure thing but also feeling like somebody he could admire for not taking advantage of a nice girl. It was with those two thoughts twisting through his head that he had walked in on a horror show.

He had parked on the street in front of the house, because Mom and Dad got the carport and the driveway, even when they were empty. It was weird, he should have had the house to himself because all the girls were in school and Mom and Dad were at work, but Dad’s car was in the carport. He must have gotten off work early.

The front door was unlocked and he went inside. He heard men yelling, and he started to run towards the stairs.

“Daddy!” a thin voice wailed. It was Piper!

Drake jumped to the bottom of the stairs in one leap.

He watched as his father grabbed his sister’s arm and flung her against a wall. The snap of her arm breaking was audible. She screamed, then slumped to the floor like a broken rag doll.

There was a man lying on the basement floor, and Drake tripped on him as he lunged at his father.

“You, little snot,” his father raged. Drake was smaller, but he leaned in with his right shoulder as he did in football and took his father to the cement wall of the basement. He curled over Drake and grabbed Drake’s waist, trying to pull him up. Drake was having none of it. He reared back and shoved his dad back into the wall.

Drake heard his sister’s low moan. He broke free of his father’s hold, then he dove in again and shoved the old man against the wall. That’s when he felt an arm come around his neck from behind.

Piper let out a shrill scream. This wasn’t just a fight in a locker room, this was a fight for his sister’s life.

“You little shit. You don’t cross me,” the old man screamed the words, spittle flying.

Drake had no idea what the hell was going on, he jerked his head forward then flipped it backwards, enjoying the howl that came from the man behind him as the back of his head met the man’s nose. His hold loosened. Drake jammed his knee into his father’s crotch, let go of him, and pulled the arm from around his neck. His dad was wheezing, when he turned, he saw blood pouring out of the nose of his other opponent. That man needed to be on the ground, Drake thought.

“Just leave. Pretend you saw nothing,” the bleeding man said.

That’s when Drake realized the third man on the floor that he had tripped over was dead. Fuck. Had his dad killed somebody?

“Drake?” Piper said in a weak voice. “Daddy shot him,” she said pointing to the dead man. “I’m scared.”

“Leave,” his dad growled hoarsely.

Drake stepped sideways and bent towards Piper.

“No! She stays,” Norville Avery said in the most chilling voice Drake had ever heard.

In a split second, his decision was made. He lunged at his father both hands grasping his skull, and he shoved it against the basement wall. Finally satisfied when he was knocked unconscious.

“What the fuck?” the other man breathed.

That’s when Drake recognized him. Frank Comey. A no-good piece of shit who was constantly being bailed out of ugly situations by his father, the judge, who was best friends with the sheriff. Drake elbowed him in the jaw. He landed like a ton of bricks.

He bent and picked up his whimpering sister. Her black curls were damp with sweat, her face was ashen.

“Hurts.”

“I know, Baby.” Drake gingerly walked up the stairs, all the while looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody moved. When he got to the top of the stairs, he sat Piper down on the kitchen counter top.

“No! Hold me.”

“In a second, Honey.” He kissed the top of her head.

He locked the door of the basement and picked up the phone mounted on the wall by the refrigerator. He dialed nine-one-one, then cursed himself. The damned sheriff would let Comey’s son go free.

He picked up Piper.

“I hurt, Drake.”

“We’ll get you fixed up soon.”

***

Drake sat there, thinking back on that twenty minutes of his life. He had lucked out that day, the sheriff had been out fishing, so by the time he had gotten back he couldn’t manipulate the evidence to try to prove Comey or Norville innocent. But that was Drake’s only piece of luck. The sheriff had come and threatened him before the trial, telling him that testifying would be bad for his health, but Drake hadn’t believed him. He thought if he kept his head down and did the right thing, he would be fine.