Secret Daddy (Dark Daddies Book 8)

by B. B. Hamel

  “I’m fine,” I say, but this time a little less angrily.

  “I know,” he says, gentle and kind. It surprises me, but I’m not about to show it.

  Is this what happens when you live your life in a war zone? Maybe this is why he was a marine for so long. Any man with the ability to calm someone down like that has to be really useful in a war. I bet he was a leader, had his own group of soldiers, and I bet they loved him. I bet he could keep everyone together when the shit got bad just by telling them he wouldn’t let them get hurt. And I bet they believed him, just like I believed him.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  I reach into my bag and pull some headphones out. I put them over my ears and turn on some music, drowning out the sound of the plane, refusing to look at Graham.

  I can’t let myself start to soften toward him. I know what he’s thinking every time he looks at me, and I can’t let myself think the same thing.

  I don’t care if he can make me believe anything. I’m not about to give myself away, not for anything.

  4

  Graham

  Katie spends the long-ass flight ignoring me, and that works just fine. I get some sleep, watch a movie, eat some stupidly good food, and kill time.

  I’m damn good at killing time. Any real marine is a killer of time first, a killer of men second. Waiting is so much a part of war that sometimes it feels like that’s the real battle.

  Anyway, the plane touches down. Katie freaks again but I’m not sitting close enough to try and keep her calm. Whatever, fine by me if she doesn’t want my help.

  We head into the city and check into this expensive, absurd hotel. Katie has this fancy suite at the end of the hall and my room’s right next door, smaller, but still the nicest damn room I’ve ever stayed in.

  “How’s it going?” Norah asks me later after we’re all checked in and getting ready to hit the venue.

  “Not bad,” I admit. “Your girl hates me.”

  “Does that surprise you at all?”

  “Guess not.”

  She grins. I’ve known Norah for a long time. She’s always been the little baby of our family, but look at her now, running this show like a general. Gotta admit, she’s a smart one, smarter than me.

  “Look, just be nice to her, okay? Try and act like she doesn’t exist.”

  “Not sure how I’m supposed to do both,” I grumble.

  “Figure it out.”

  I grunt at her and she laughs.

  The whole mess of people staying in the hotel takes this bus thing out to the venue. It’s a big-ass stadium, the sort of venue rock stars play, but I guess pop stars are the rock stars these days, so that makes sense. We head in through the back, and there are already fans screaming and paparazzi taking pictures, and I do my best to stare down the motherfuckers. Maybe it works, since nobody gets too close to Katie.

  I keep stealing glances at my girl, waiting for her to smile and look happy, but it just isn’t happening. It’s like doing this tour isn’t what she wants or some shit like that. I mean, she’s rich and famous and desired, I can’t imagine she wouldn’t want to strut around in front of her screaming fans, soak in all that adoration and shit. But it’s early on, maybe she just needs to warm up.

  We head into the green room, which is just this big fancy room with couches and mirrors and shit. There are already people in there, although they seem to belong, since nobody reacts at all.

  “Who are all these people?” I ask Norah as the group starts talking and lounging around. Katie is the center of attention as she tells some story from their last tour.

  “Not sure,” Norah admits.

  “You’re not sure?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Not exactly tight on security.”

  “That’s your job, Graham.”

  I grunt. “I can’t do my job if you guys just randomly let people back here.”

  She gives me this resigned shrug and walks off. I blend in with the background, leaning up against a wall, checking out the crowd.

  They look like a bunch of Instagram celebrities, dressed like there are a million cameras around, posing and laughing and taking selfies. I guess this is what the youth’s like these days. I don’t get it, but then again, I bet my old man didn’t get me when I was young, so whatever. Besides, I’m not Katie’s father, far from it. I might be her Daddy though, time will tell.

  As we sit in there, chattering away, killing time before the show starts, I notice this guy slink in through the door. He’s skinny, with tattoos all over his arms, and dark bags under his eyes. The guy looks like a fucking junkie. I’ve seen guys like him before, and I watch him carefully as he sneaks around the crowd, moving slowly toward Katie.

  I get this weird feeling, watching that guy. I don’t like his look or the way he’s staring so intently at my girl. I take a step toward him, heart quickening. I feel like I always feel right before a fight, right before the fight comes and finds me, which it always fucking did out there. Right now, I guess it’s about to find me again.

  The guy suddenly moves toward Katie, and I just react. I don’t think about it, I just move. That’s how you have to be, you have to trust your body and your lizard brain, let the autopilot take over and barrel forward. That’s how I do it, at least.

  I cross the room faster than the guy can blink and suddenly I’m on him, hand on his throat, slamming him to the floor. Someone screams and people are shouting, and the little junkie prick is staring up at me, eyes wide with horror, like I’m about to kill him. But I’m not even squeezing his little chicken neck and I’m barely putting my fucking weight on him, the little pansy.

  “Graham!”

  That voice tears me back to reality. I look up and everyone’s staring at me, which, yeah, okay, that’s to be expected. I just took down some creep. That’s bound to get some looks.

  But people look pissed.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Get this fucking asshole off me!” the junkie screams.

  “Graham!” Katie shouts. “Let him go!”

  “You know this guy?” I frown and look down at the worm.

  “That’s Jasper!” she says.

  The name doesn’t mean anything to me, so my face stays blank.

  “My boyfriend,” she says, and that gets me.

  I let the junkie’s throat go and stand up. I lift him to his feet and dust him off.

  “All right then,” I say to him.

  “Fuck you. Katie, what the fuck?”

  “Graham, what are you doing?”

  I shrug. “He was sneaking up on you.”

  “But that’s Jasper.”

  “I wasn’t going to hurt her, you fucking ape,” he snaps at me.

  I raise an eyebrow at him. “Careful.”

  He opens his mouth but shuts it again.

  “Graham,” Katie says, stepping up next to me. “You can’t just… you can’t just tackle people.”

  “He was sneaking up on you,” I say again. “I’m just doing my job.”

  “I know,” she says softly, too fucking softly, like she’s talking down a scared horse. “I know you were.”

  I realize I’m breathing fast and I must look fucking scary to these people. I bet they’ve never seen a man like me, muscle and anger all coiled up in a body built to fight. I calm myself down instantly and try not to look so intimidating, but, yeah, I fail.

  “Why don’t you go for a walk?” she asks me softly. “Check around, you know… for something?”

  I sigh. “All right. I can do that.”

  “Thanks,” she says, and there’s something genuine in her expression.

  “Any time.”

  I turn away from the room. Norah is shaking her head like she’s simultaneously annoyed and not at all surprised. I flash her a quick smile before walking away.

  “Who the hell was that fucking monkey?” I hear the little smarmy junkie, Jasper, ask Katie as I leave the room.

  “Don’t be an ass, Jasper,” she says and I step out of the r
oom.

  Huh. So she has a boyfriend. Weird, because she looks at me like she’s starving for my touch. I guess she needs an actual man to take care of her, not some effeminate Instagram model douche.

  Boyfriend, no boyfriend, who cares. I’ll take care of her either way. She’s my girl, after all, and I’ll be her Daddy soon enough.

  5

  Katie

  “Who the hell was that… that… ape?”

  Jasper is agitated, twitching around and annoyed, bouncing from one foot to the other. The green room is back to chatting normally but I can tell everyone’s staring at the two of us, and not for the normal reasons.

  “He’s just my bodyguard,” I say for the fiftieth time. “I know that was crappy. I’ll talk to him.”

  “I mean, he just attacked me. Like, he doesn’t know who I am?”

  “Probably not,” I admit. “I think he’s been in Iraq for a long time.”

  Jasper makes a face. “What was he doing there? Isn’t that place, like, a shithole?”

  I wince at that. “Yeah, I mean, it’s been at war for nearly two decades now, and—”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. That asshole, he didn’t know who I am, you know? How can he not know who I am? I mean, who even is that ape?”

  I sigh and let Jasper rant and rave. He doesn’t care about getting tackled, that much is obvious. He’s more annoyed that Graham didn’t recognize him.

  That’s Jasper and his fragile, pathetic little ego for you. Getting beaten up doesn’t register for him, but God forbid you don’t know who he is when you punch him in the face. That’s the real crime.

  The crowd quiets down a bit and I notice Graham comes back into the room. He’s not hiding himself, which surprises me. He gives me a little wink and a grin before heading over to Norah. The two of them step aside, and based on the look she’s giving him, I don’t think their conversation is pleasant.

  “Hello? Katie?”

  I wince again and look back at Jasper. I hate his whiny voice and that stupid hair. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Did you see my Insta post? I got, like, two million likes. Killed it. I think Adidas wants to sponsor some content, and I’m like, fuck you, pay me, you know?” He laughs to himself, scrolling through his own Instagram feed.

  I smile at him and look away. I’m tempted to take my phone out and scroll but for some reason, I stop.

  I want to tell myself that it’s not because Graham’s here. It’s not because he keeps glancing over at me, judging me with those intense and beautiful eyes of his. I’m not trying to impress him. I’m not ashamed of what I am.

  I care about Instagram. I care about Facebook and social media and all that stuff. I have to, I mean, it’s my job. I’m not just a singer, I’m a brand and a presence online. People care about my tweets and posts, I get thousands of likes and retweets. It’s totally insane, honestly, but it’s part of the job. If those numbers start to slip, I know I’m doing something wrong.

  But looking at Jasper, buried in his phone like that, makes me want to puke a little bit. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the insane level of selfishness, something like that. Or maybe it’s just because I’d rather talk to Graham than stand around my supposed boyfriend.

  Norah finally finishes telling Graham off after nearly ten minutes and he leans up against a wall, completely apart from the party. People are avoiding him, although they keep glancing in his direction. I wonder what the tabloids are going to say about that little incident. I bet Jasper is pretty excited for all the extra press he’ll get.

  God, what a weird way to think about things.

  “I’ll be back,” I mutter to him and walk away. He doesn’t even seem to notice as I thread my way through the crowd, smiling and nodding at people, but heading straight for Graham.

  He notices and cocks his head, a little smirk on his lips as I finally approach him.

  “Here to tell me off, too?” he asks me.

  “Nah. Looks like Norah did that for me.”

  He chuckles. “Not the first time she’s called me a little stupid fucker,” he says.

  “She said that?” I’m honestly surprised. I’ve never heard Norah curse before.

  “Oh, sure. Girl’s got a mouth on her.” Graham crosses his massively muscular arms. “What are you doing talking to me? I thought I was persona non grata now, yeah?”

  “Fuck it,” I say, which makes him smile. “I mean, I guess I don’t care.”

  “I tackled your boyfriend,” he points out.

  “I know. I loved it.”

  He barks a little laugh. “Did you now?”

  “Yeah. And he’s not really my boyfriend.”

  He seems to perk up at that. “I thought he was. That’s what you said.”

  “Well…” I bite my lip and step closer to him. He doesn’t move but I feel like he just took me into his arms and pulled me tight against his body. “Truth is, that whole thing is fake. Our publicists set it up. You’d be surprised how many Hollywood romances are faked.”

  “Maybe,” he admits. “You people really do that?”

  I shrug. “Sure. We get pictures taken together, get some time in the media, and then move on. The breakup always gets good coverage. People love that stuff.”

  He grunts a little and frowns. “Isn’t that dishonest?”

  “Maybe,” I admit.

  “Your fans care about you.”

  “I know.” I look away from him, suddenly self-conscious in a bad way. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “I see. So what do you think of your, ah, fake boyfriend?”

  “He’s okay,” I admit. “He has his moments.”

  “What’s he do?”

  I can’t help but laugh at that.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Jasper would lose it if he heard you ask that question,” I say, still grinning.

  He smiles a little. “So I guess he’s, what, a musician?”

  “Actor.”

  “Ah.” He shakes his head. “So even less talent then.”

  “Pretty much. Just a pretty face.”

  Graham cocks his head and looks at me carefully. “You’re a lot more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

  I glance away from him for a second. “What makes you say that?”

  “I can see it. You’re not chattering away like everyone else in here. You’re not staring at pictures of yourself on your phone.”

  I bite my lip. “But that’s what I normally do.”

  “And why aren’t you doing it then?”

  I want to say, it’s because you’re watching me, you asshole. I want to tell him that I can’t get him off of my mind.

  Instead, I just smile. “No reason.” I stand closer to him and get up on my tiptoes. “Thanks for what you did before there.”

  I kiss him on the cheek, and for a second, I swear the whole room goes quiet. He turns toward me and our lips brush together, not quite a kiss, but almost, so close, so deliciously close. His skin is rough with stubble and he smells perfect, like wood and charcoal. I want to linger there longer, close against him, feeling his body tight.

  But the sound in the room resumes and I have to move away. He grins at me, and I can tell he’s about to make some joke, when I hear my name called out.

  I turn to spot Jasper waving.

  “The old ball and chain is calling,” Graham grunts at me.

  “I guess so.” I glance back at him. “See you later.”

  “See you, princess.”

  I turn and hurry back over to Jasper. I don’t want to leave, but I know I can’t just linger next to my bodyguard all night. People would talk.

  Oh, hell, people are going to talk no matter what. It doesn’t matter what I say or do. They’ll find some reason to talk.

  6

  Graham

  God damn, that little kiss on the cheek.

  What the fucking hell. I’ve never felt something like that before in my whole goddamn life and the girl just kissed my cheek.

 
Almost makes getting chewed out by Norah worth it. Pretty damn close, at least.

  I mean, shit, it was just a kiss on the cheek.

  But it was so much more than that.

  The girl isn’t really dating that stupid-looking junkie loser. I guess I should call him an actor or whatever, but that seems too dignified. She just came out and spilled it, which makes me think she wanted me to know.

  She’s available. She’s single.

  Women like her, they don’t do shit like that without purpose. I can tell, everything she does, she thinks about it. The total opposite of me. I’m a big, dumb moron that needs to follow orders. She’s a thinker, she’s the brass in this situation.

  Which means, she wants to do more than just kiss me on the cheek.

  God damn, I have a taste for my girl now.

  After the party, we head back to the hotel. Nothing much happens from there, we go to bed, all that shit, and the day starts over again. She sleeps in and heads to soundcheck around three, a few hours before the second show starts.

  I hang around in the back, dodging glares from Norah. She was pretty goddamn pissed that I tackled that stupid kid. I can’t blame her, though.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t see?” Norah says to me as Katie practices up on stage, going through the check.

  “See what?”

  She sighs. “Of course not.” She raises up her phone, this big glass monstrosity. It’s a news article, I guess, or maybe a blog, but the headline is clear.

  New Bouncer Tackles Jasper!

  “I’m not a fucking bouncer,” I say.

  “That’s what you got from that?”

  I just shrug and look away from the phone. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Kid looked like a threat.”

  “He’s a famous actor, Graham. How out of touch are you out there?”

  “I’m too busy to give a shit about some little punk fuck actor, I’ll tell you that much.”

  She sighs. “Look, you’re home now, okay? You can’t just tackle people.”