His Possession - Ransom Drysdale X OC

Chapter 6 - Mixed Messages

As the sun blared through the curtains, coaxing me awake, an sense of unease fell on me instantly. The images from last night began filling my brain. Ransom's hand on my breasts, his lips on mine, our bodies together. How could I have let this happen? It was wrong on so many different levels, he was my cousin for shits sake and I had sex with him? What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to speak to someone. Anyone. But who? I couldn't exactly bring it up with Frank and I sure as hell couldn't tell my family. Besides them, I wasn't really close to anyone else. Small pools began to fill my eyes as I realised I was going to have to deal with this alone.

Remembering Ransom stayed over, I thought maybe I could catch him privately, talk to him about what happened and let him know that it couldn't happen again. This would hurt everyone we knew. Shit! It suddenly hit me, like a ten tonne weight sitting on my chest, we didn't use protection. Fuck. I lifted myself up in the bed and took some deep breathes as my heart began thumping heavily. Just another question to awkwardly have to ask, 'By the way Ransom, I don't suppose you've been checked for STI's lately.' I felt so fucking stupid. The only saving grace was that I was on the contraceptive pill. So at least that would be one less thing to worry about. I reached for my phone noting that it was 9.30am and noticed I had a text message from Frank. Guilt crept up on me as I was completely disgusted in myself.

'8.43AM - Morning beautiful. Hope you are okay this morning. I'll call you abit later on xxx'

Ransom was right, I was a slut. How could I have done this to Frank? I stepped out of bed, hitting the cold floor and slipped my fluffy, cream dressing gown over my pyjamas before heading straight out of my room to make sure I caught Ransom before he left. As I reached the door to the room he stayed in, I hesitated, closing my eyes and shaking my head before finding the strength to knock. Silence. I knocked again and waited for a few more seconds before pushing the door open and stepping inside. The room was completely empty. The bed was made, there was no evidence of anyone being in there at all. I tried the second guest room, wondering if I had mistaken which room he was in, only to be met with the exact same thing.

Downstairs Dad was in garden, stood in his grey pyjamas trousers, navy slippers and navy dressing gown, sipping on a cup of coffee as he watched the events team begin clearing up from the night before. I stepped outside to join him, clutching my dressing gown against me as the cold morning breeze hit me suddenly, causing goose bumps to prickle along every inch of my skin.

"Morning Dad." I said, interrupting his concentrated gaze.

He turned around and flashed me a smile, "Morning Princess."

I smiled back and approached him, leaning my head against his shoulder and wrapping my arm around his back. He didn't know why, but he could tell that I needed him, he always knew. He wrapped both arms around me and cuddled me close, leaning his head against mine.

"What's wrong Kiddo?" He asked cautiously, whilst holding me still.

"I just need a Dad day." I sighed.

"Can we spend some time together today, after Ransom leaves?" I asked, discreetly pressing Dad for information about Ransom's whereabouts.

"Of course we can Princess." He replied softly, pressing a loving kiss on the top of my head, before he continued speaking with worry in his voice. "Ransom has already gone though sweetheart. I heard his car start at 3am this morning. When I jumped up to see what was going on, I saw him driving off." I stood speechless in Dad's arms. So he screwed me and left. Was that his plan all along? Was he even going to stay or was it an excuse to get to me in the middle of the night?

"Honestly I'm a little worried, something must have happened for him to leave like that. I tried calling but he didn't answer. I'll try again in a little while and make sure he's okay." Dad continued. My blood was boiling, I felt hurt, humiliated, used. Now my poor Dad was worrying about him and I couldn't even tell him the real reason his scum bag of a nephew most likely left.