Protector Daddy

Home > Other > Protector Daddy > Page 8
Protector Daddy Page 8

by Roberts, Laylah


  “A protector Daddy,” Grady mused. “Or Daddies.”

  Amusement filled the other men’s face as Spike snarled at him. Oh, he knew what would happen if the two of them got her back to Steele’s mansion. She’d never leave. She’d be tied to their bed. Fucked. Pleasured.

  Then when they got bored, they’d release her. Usually with a nice, healthy bank balance. The two of them were picky. And they didn’t pay women to be with them. No, they came willingly.

  But they never kept them.

  “She’s not a temporary plaything,” Spike bit out.

  “Anyone can see that,” Grady said.

  “How do you intend to keep her safe?” Steele asked. “Sounds like Luther is gunning for you and you don’t have the protection I do.”

  Spike snorted. “I’m not scared of Luther Franklin.”

  “Did you kill Frankie?” Grady asked him.

  Spike narrowed his gaze at Grady. “I didn’t.”

  Grady studied him. “But you know who did?”

  “Lot of people hated Frankie; he was scum.”

  No way was he telling anyone who actually killed Frankie. He didn’t want to be next on the Fox’s hitlist. Besides, far as he was concerned, the Fox did the world a favor when he got rid of Frankie.

  Grady looked over at the bathroom. All of them were aware of how long she’d been in there. Spike glanced down as her dog flopped itself over his boot. Heavy for something so small. What the hell kind of dog was it, anyway?

  “Anybody else notice that the way she reacts to things isn’t exactly right?” Grady mused.

  “What the hell does that mean? What way should she react?”

  “Most people, if they were held at gunpoint, would just hand over their bag, yes? Most people, if they overheard the conversation she did, wouldn’t immediately search out the people who were talked about, would they? Especially not when they learn one of them owns a strip club and runs a gang.”

  Grady’s lips twitched at that. Steele hated being referred to as a gang leader.

  “And when a scary looking guy forces himself into a room and starts to drag someone off, most people would call the cops or run for help. Especially if that person is far smaller and more delicate than the attacker. And they don’t even know the person being attacked. They definitely wouldn’t pull out a stun gun and shoot him. And even if they did, then I’m certain they wouldn’t brush it off and sit calmly in a room with three of the city’s most dangerous men, drinking virgin daiquiris and putting down newspaper for their narcoleptic puppy.”

  “It took a while to catch up to her,” Spike said. “She ended up vomiting in the bathroom.”

  “Did it? I’m not sure that’s why she ended up in the bathroom. Does any of that seem normal to the two of you?” Grady asked.

  Steele shrugged. “Perhaps she’s simply brave.”

  She was a menace. She was clumsy, nosy, smart and far too reckless with her safety.

  Yep, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  “There’s something more going on with her. Mark my words.”

  Grady was right. None of it was normal behavior. The way she kept bouncing back like nothing touched her. She couldn’t be as ignorant and innocent as she appeared. His suspicions stirred, wondering if she was hiding something.

  And if so, what could it be?

  She’d had enough time in the bathroom. The door opened as he rose and she stepped out. He narrowed his gaze. She looked pale. And was she squinting? As though she was in pain?

  “Do you think I could get that ibuprofen?” she asked Grady.

  “Of course, my dear.” He rose smoothly and walked over to grab them from the bathroom cupboard. Spike walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. Then he took the pills from Grady who sent Spike an amused look but let him take them. He shook two out and handed them to her along with the water.

  “What’s wrong? What hurts?” he barked.

  She winced.

  Easy, man.

  “Just my head,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine in a moment. Just a lot has happened in the last few days. My life was rather boring before now. I think the most exciting thing to happen was when Mrs. Larsen pulled a Lady Godiva one Halloween. Of course, she was riding a bike rather than a horse. And unfortunately her hair wasn’t quite long enough to cover her boobs. And . . .” she looked around at the three of them, “you probably don’t want to hear that.”

  She rubbed at her temples tiredly. Poor baby. He felt the sudden urge to tuck her up in bed and insist that she stay there until there was color in her cheeks and the worry had faded out of her eyes.

  The fact that she didn’t seem to have any sense of self-preservation worried him. Her penchant for getting herself in trouble was clear.

  But was that reason enough to take her home with him? He didn’t know her. He could leave her to Steele. He would keep her alive.

  She’d be safe, but she’d also be controlled. Kept in the lap of luxury, but only until her appeal ran out.

  “Millie, who would you like to stay with while this mess gets sorted out? In the Hulk’s cave? Or Bruce Wayne’s mansion?” Grady asked.

  Spike scowled at him.

  “I’d really just like to go back to my motel room and stay there with Mr. Fluffy.” There was a hint of tears in her voice and he couldn’t stand it.

  Reaching out, he gently tugged her into his chest. “I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

  He saw Steele flash a look at Grady. Were those two bastards up to something? He frowned over at them suspiciously. Steele gave him an innocent look back.

  Definitely up to something.

  Assholes.

  Millie kind of slumped against him, and he held her tight, worried about her.

  “Doll? You okay?” he murmured.

  “Just tired, I think. I can’t . . . I can’t think right now. I don’t want to . . . I don’t think I can . . .” her voice broke.

  “Shh, you don’t have to. It’s okay. You can let go.”

  “I can’t,” she mumbled. “Can’t ever let go. Got things I need to do. Can’t ever let go.”

  Fuck. She was killing him.

  He looked straight at Steele. “She’s coming home with me.”

  Steele nodded. “Fine. But if you need us, you know where I am. You’ll both need to be careful. We’ll keep this info about Luther and the rat to ourselves, but I still need to find this guy. Luther will be coming for both of us. And the Devil’s Sinners will be after Millie. Sure you can handle all that?”

  Spike gave him a look. “I don’t need your help.”

  “We’ll see.” Steele smirked at him. “Did you bring your bike?”

  “Yeah.” Spike grimaced. Fuck. “Can we use your driver?”

  “Don’t need my help huh?”

  Asshole.

  10

  Millie ran her hand over the smooth leather of the seat. She’d never been in a car this luxurious before. She kept a good hold on Mr. Fluffy. She wouldn’t like to think how much it would cost to replace the upholstery in something this expensive.

  She felt a bit ashamed of how she’d kind of just given up in there and let Spike take over. Everything had gotten to her and she just hadn’t known what to do next.

  Still, she shouldn’t lean on him. She didn’t know him.

  And yet you’re going to stay with him? Shouldn’t you at least put up some sort of protest?

  He sat beside her, and their driver closed the car door.

  Well, Damon’s driver. Yikes. How rich was he? For her eighteenth birthday, her grandma had rented a limo to take them to dinner. It had been neon pink and had smelled of cigarette smoke with faux-leather seats and the driver, her grandad, had ridden the clutch the whole way.

  But it had been the best night of her life.

  She blinked back tears at the memory.

  Spike suddenly leaned over her. She shied back.

  “Seatbelt,” he grumbled, pulling it over her and locking i
t in as the car started moving. She hadn’t even heard the driver get in. There was a partition up between the back seats and the front.

  “I really don’t need to go home with you. I’m sure that awful man has better things to do with his time than come after me. All I did was stun him. You knocked him out.”

  “A woman besting him will hurt his rep. Plus, he’ll go after the weakest of us. That’s you.”

  “Won’t I be putting you in danger, though? If I come to stay with you?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “What will Damon do about Luther?”

  “You don’t need to worry about it.”

  That didn’t make her feel better.

  “This is silly. Nobody knows who I am or where I’m staying. I’m sure I’ll be safe on my own.”

  He snorted. “How long you been in the city?”

  “Ahh, this is my fifth night.”

  “And how many times you been threatened or in danger?”

  Hmm. She was starting to see where he was going with this. She wisely kept her mouth closed. But he made a noise that suspiciously sounded like amusement. Although she may have misread that as she didn’t think much amused him.

  “Your choices are to stay with me or go home.”

  “I can’t go home.”

  “Then your choice is clear.”

  “I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure you don’t really want me coming to stay with you. I don’t even know you. I mean, we’re strangers. Why do you even care what happens to me?”

  He was silent for a long moment. “Why’d you care what happened to me?”

  Shoot.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You searched me out to warn me. You didn’t have to do that.”

  She sighed. “Because I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t warned you.”

  “Were you going to try again?”

  “Yeah, I was going to try again.”

  He nodded. “You’re staying with me.”

  And that was that. She was too tired to argue anymore. At least tonight.

  “You’re okay with Mr. Fluffy coming to stay too?” She patted the sleeping puppy.

  “Yep.”

  “What about my stuff? Can we go grab it?”

  “Get you new stuff.”

  “But there are things there I need. Nobody knows where I’m staying. It can’t be unsafe to go grab my things, surely?” She couldn’t do without Chompers or her onesies.

  Oh, and her meds were important too.

  He sighed. “Fine. What’s the address?”

  She told him and he lowered the partition to speak quietly to the driver.

  * * *

  Spike stared out at the cheap motel Steele’s driver pulled up in front of.

  Fucking hell. This was where she was staying? Seriously?

  “Stay in the car,” he told her. “I’ll get your stuff.”

  “Uh, no way. It’s my stuff. I’ll do it. You wait in the car.”

  Was she serious? She reached for her belt. Christ, she was. Leaning over, he grabbed her hand. “There could be someone in there.”

  “There’s no way he could be waiting in there for me.”

  Fuck it. He knew she was right. “Fine. But you do as I say. At all times.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’d like that rule to apply all the time and not just while I’m getting my things?”

  That would make his life much easier.

  “Stay there. You get out my side. When I say.”

  “Righto,” she said cheerfully.

  Spike really didn’t understand her. How could she be cheerful right now? Shouldn’t she be a mess? She wasn’t like any woman he’d met before.

  He climbed out and stood in the open door of the car, looking around suspiciously. The lot was dark. There were hardly any working lights in the parking area. Movement off to the right caught his attention. Raul, Damon’s driver, reached for his gun, holding it out at his side as he gazed over at the same spot.

  A woman dressed in a barely-there, skin tight dress stepped forward. “Interest you boys in some fun?”

  “No,” Raul told her. “You’ll have better luck somewhere else.”

  “How about you, big guy,” she said in a husky voice. The smell of cigarettes and sweat clung to her. “You want me to join you in the back of that fancy car?”

  He just gave her a look.

  She huffed.

  Millie stood up on the lip of the door and looked over his shoulder at the woman.

  What the fuck did she think she was doing? Anger flooded him; his palm grew itchy.

  If she was his . . .

  Not yours.

  Yes, but maybe they’d need to establish a few rules for while she was under his protection.

  And some consequences if she broke those rules.

  “Hey, Rhonda,” she said cheerfully.

  The woman lost that predatory look, actual warmth filling her face. “Millie! What you doing?” She frowned at Spike. “You okay? This guy bothering you?”

  “Nah. He’s an, um, friend. We’re just here to get some of my stuff.”

  “Millie,” he warned.

  He should have known this was a bad idea. The woman didn’t seem to have a clue of the possible danger she could be in. Or the fact that she shouldn’t trust anyone.

  Oh no, she seemed to go around trusting everyone.

  “A friend huh?” Rhonda drawled. “It’s all right, sweetie, you don’t need to say anything more. You go have some fun with your new friend.”

  “Wait,” Spike said sharply. He reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet. He handed her over a hundred dollar bill. “Anyone asks, we were never here.”

  Rhonda didn’t grab the money like he assumed she would. Instead she gave him a suspicious look and then glanced up at Millie. “You in some trouble, girl?”

  “Seems so,” Millie sighed. “It’s okay, though. I’ll be all right.”

  “Uh-huh.” Rhonda snatched up the money, turning away. “Good luck, hon.”

  “You too.”

  Spike stepped back and turned. Grabbing Millie around the waist, he lifted her down. He loomed over her, placing his hands on the top of the car. “Just what did you think you were doing?”

  “Talking to Rhonda?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion. Although it was hard to read her expression in the poorly-lit parking lot.

  This wasn’t the best time for this conversation. He took hold of her wrist. “Come on.”

  “Wait, Mr. Fluffy. My bag.” She tugged back against his hold.

  Turning, he stared down at her again. “Don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Maybe instead of just grabbing hold of me and dragging me places you could actually speak to me instead. Like a normal person.”

  The bite in her voice raised his eyebrows. So she did know how to snap back. Good. Because she was going to need a tough side in order to get through these next few days.

  And you’re gonna need a lot of cold showers or else you’re going to be walking around with a permanent hard-on.

  Stop thinking about your dick.

  “Not the time to chat,” he told her abruptly. “Inside.”

  “Yes, I want to get inside too. But to do that, I need my handbag. It has my keys.”

  Idiot.

  He sighed, his irritation completely and utterly turned inward. “Grab your bag. Dog can stay in the car.”

  She climbed into the car, her ass wiggling around so much that he had to bite back a groan. He forced himself to concentrate on his surroundings.

  Focus.

  When she slid out, she held her bag in one hand and the dog in the other.

  They definitely needed a chat about obedience. And listening. And who the boss was.

  Newsflash. Not her.

  She must have sensed his irritation. “Mr. Fluffy doesn’t like to be apart from me. He gets separation anxiety.”

  Lord give him p
atience.

  “Keys,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

  She tried to juggle the dog and her bag, but couldn’t manage it. So she held out the fluffy ball of fur to him. He took the dog. It settled onto his arm. And promptly fell asleep.

  This dog had issues. Weren’t puppies meant to have energy?

  “He likes you,” she told him.

  “Last night he bit me.”

  “You scared him. He wouldn’t fall asleep on you if he didn’t like you.”

  “When does he do anything but sleep?” Spike asked incredulously.

  She didn’t reply, just jangled her keys. He snatched them from her and then handed back the dog. Who nestled in against her breasts with a happy sigh.

  He was not jealous of a damn puppy.

  He. Was. Not.

  She slid the puppy into her handbag. “I don’t want the manager seeing him. I didn’t exactly ask permission. Mind you, I don’t suppose he’s awake at this time of night. I’m sure watching porn all day tires him out.”

  Spike stared down at her. Was she joking or . . . fuck it. Likely not.

  Christ.

  “Room?” he barked, making her jump slightly but he was too irritated to care. What the hell was she thinking staying here? This wasn’t the sort of place someone like Millie should be. It was a wonder she’d lasted four nights.

  “Five.” She pointed to a room. “It’s on the ground floor, which is lucky, right? No having to traipse up and down stairs.

  Lucky? Right. Lucky for any criminals that she’d made it so much easier for them to get into her room by taking a ground floor.

  Someone hated him, they really did.

  This was his punishment for all the bad shit he’d done in his life.

  11

  Spike was muttering something quietly as they walked toward the motel room she’d rented. She couldn’t make out anything he was saying, but she was pretty certain it wasn’t flattering.

  He kept close to her and his scent kept teasing her. Rich leather and tart cherries. It was a weird mix. But damn intriguing.

 

‹ Prev