Trapped by My Crush's Dad

Chapter 23: House Visit

Mila's pov

Thinking it was Everett, I used all my strength, struggling to escape. Pushing against his chest I tried gaining the upper hand, but he was much stronger than me. My heart was pounding as he held me tighter. Though I was terrified, ideas of horrible outcomes flashed in my mind, so I stopped fighting.

I fell into a state of panic, barely able to breathe, but then I could see that this was Mr. Williams. As my vision adjusted to the outside streetlights, I realized it was really him who had hold of me and not his son.

"Why are you so scared?" he asked me, furrowing his brow. A wave of sadness hit me. Without control I began to cry. He rubbed my arms trying to calm me down. "It's okay, Mila." I couldn't stop the tears, however, so he put his arm around me, and we went back inside. "Come with me."

He led me down the hall, grabbed a glass and poured me some wine. Feeling paranoid, I searched around for Everett but there was no indication he was there. As we sat at the table, Mr. Williams touched my hand. When I looked at him, he presented the wine to me again.

"Have a drink. It’ll help."

I shook my head vehemently.

"I don't want to. The last time I drank, bad things happened."

Imagining Everett pulling me into the bathroom and touching me made me never want to taste wine again. Mr. Williams didn’t speak but instead took a few swigs off the glass.

On the third drink, he held it in his mouth for a moment, then reached to the back of my head and kissed me. As we did, he passed the alcohol into my mouth. It was a heady red, with a smoky taste, followed by a full bitterness. It was lovely, and even more so with the way he was administering it.

After a few kisses like that, I began to calm down. I sucked on his bottom lip to remove all the luscious droplets. As I moved back, our eyes met and I felt at ease.

"Now, tell me why you are here," Mr. Williams said, his voice metered. He brushed my hand gently and held eye contact. Squirming in my chair, I wrestled with whether to confess. The way he was looking at me, however, made me feel like I could never hide from him. Finally, I relented.

"It's Everett. He told me I had to come here or else," I said, my voice rising, matching my increasing anxiety.

"Everett is trying to order you around?" he asked me, narrowing his eyes, resting his ankle on his knee. “Why did you listen?”

"He shared a private picture of me to a group chat of ours. Nobody else was meant to see it but him. Now he's using it to force me to spend time with him or more," I said, tapping my foot. Mr. Williams nodded but then pursed his lips before speaking.

"I knew something was up," he finally said, shaking his head, staring at the table. "But I never suspected this."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my chest prickling with uneasiness. Watching him intently, I was on the edge of my seat waiting for his response.

"I had a dinner party to attend tonight, but I noticed there was something wrong with Everett. He was acting strangely like he was in a hurry for me to leave. I suspected he was going to invite a bunch of college buddies over here, get wasted and trash the place while I was gone. That's why I never left here.”

"Where is he now?" I asked. Just as the words left my lips, a notification chime sounded.

Glancing at my phone, I could see I had a calendar invite from Everett who scheduled our next "meeting". Mr. Williams flicked his eyes to my phone. He averted his eyes and didn't want to be invasive, but something must have caught his attention because he focused on it again.

“What is that?” he asked me with curiosity. “Is that from Everett?”

"Yes. Obviously, he’s going to keep blackmailing me. Look," I said, handing Mr. Williams the phone. “It's a meeting invite from your son. He’s playing games with me.” He glanced at it then exhaled scowling. "I'm at a loss about what to do. I've been clear with him about how I feel but he still won’t leave me alone.”

Mr. Williams linked his hands and rested his chin on them, staring outside for a moment, pondering. Then, he turned to me with those intense dark eyes, looking into my soul, and said, "I can help you, Mila but before I do that, I want to see all the pictures and messages you sent to Everett."

A light sheen of sweat covered my chest as I clutched my collar. The answer should have been obvious. I was in trouble and probably nobody else could help me better than Mr. Williams. Still, I was still conflicted.