Protector Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  That explained why all her friends looked to be in their eighties.

  “Deedee hated living in Nowhere. I don’t blame her. There were no young people around. We had to take a bus for an hour just to get to school. I did my best to take her places, the park, to sports things, but she just seemed to grow up resenting all of us. My granddad died several years ago. My grandma got sick with breast cancer a few years ago. I was working a lot to pay her mounting medical bills as well as taking her to appointments. I neglected Deedee. She needed me and I wasn’t there.”

  “Baby, what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

  “Wasn’t it? I was working late at the library. Deedee was supposed to be with Grandma. When I got home, Grandma was passed out on the floor. I called an ambulance. I wondered where Deedee was but I didn’t have time to go find her. When I finally got home from the hospital it was after midnight and she wasn’t in her bed. I started to panic. I called her. I drove the streets looking for her. All my neighbors were elderly so I couldn’t wake them to help. She was gone. It wasn’t until I got home, I found the note from her. She said she’d had enough of living in some tiny town filled with old people. She’d only just turned seventeen.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “I reported her missing, of course. But the cops didn’t have much to go on. And I couldn’t just leave Grandma. I was torn between my runaway sister and my sick grandmother. If I’d had the money, I would have hired someone to find her.”

  “So this was before you won the money?”

  “Oh yes. After Grandma died, I was in a lot of debt from her medical bills. I’d lost my job. I was going to have to sell the house. I didn’t have anyone who could help. Then I got a knock on the door. It was the police. They told me that DeeDee’s body had been recovered. That she’d been murdered.”

  She took in a long breath. “They couldn’t tell me who did it, but they did say that she’d been working as a prostitute and they figured she’d been killed by a customer.” Her breath hitched. “My baby sister. She’d left because she was searching for a better life and then she ended up in hell.”

  “Oh, baby doll.” He came and sat beside her, lifting her onto his lap.

  “I was in shock. I think I just sat there and nodded like a lunatic. I don’t even remember them leaving. Three days later, there was another knock on my door to tell me I’d won two million dollars. I didn’t even ask questions. It was like a Godsend. I paid off all her medical debts.”

  “That’s where the rest of the money went?”

  “Oh, I also helped out a few of Grandma’s friends.”

  He bet she did. She was always taking care of everyone else and forgetting about looking after herself.

  Now she didn’t have to. Because she had him.

  “And then I decided I was going to come here. That I was going to find out who killed her. I know it was stupid. I mean, how was I possibly going to find the killer? I’m such an idiot.”

  “Stop that,” he growled at her, placing a finger over her lips. “No calling yourself names.”

  “But I’m just some country bumpkin from Nowhere, Nebraska. I have no idea what I’m doing. I worked in a library. I grew up surrounded by people who think a late night is if they’re not in bed by eight. My sister ran away from me because my life was so boring. I was stupid to think I could ever do any of this. I just kept moving forward because stopping or looking back would be failing. I failed her once. I couldn’t do it again. I just couldn’t.”

  “Hush, baby. Hush.” He gently rocked her. “You didn’t fail her. You had far too much on your plate. And no one to help you.”

  “I’ve got to keep myself together. Because there’s no one else to do it all. I don’t have the option of falling apart.”

  “You can fall apart. Because I’m here. And I will always put you back together.”

  She slumped against him. “That’s so sweet.”

  “I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself stupid again, understand me?”

  She huffed out a sigh. “There’s the grump again.”

  “Why were you staying in such a crappy motel if you had money?”

  “I chose a motel close to where she was found. I thought it was a good idea to pay a week upfront, it was definitely cheaper. It wasn’t until I got here that I saw why it was so cheap. But I couldn’t get my money back so I figured I’d stay for the week. It really wasn’t so bad.”

  He grunted in disagreement. His mind turned everything over. Sister murdered. Staying close to where she was found. The Fox.

  “Baby doll, what’s her real name? Your sister?”

  “Daria. Daria Marshall.”

  He tensed. Daria Marshall. The girl from the photos that they’d been forced to use to blackmail that sick fuck, Senator Jonathan Robins. “Shit. Fuck. Christ. So that’s the connection. But why would he do that?”

  “What is it? What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I think I might know who gave you the money. I just don’t know why he did it.”

  “Who? What? How would you know?”

  He shook his head. “It’s so far-fetched. But it fits.”

  “Spike,” she said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  He blew out a breath. She rubbed at her forehead.

  “You’re getting a migraine. This is stressing you out.”

  “What? Getting shot? Learning that you know something about the money I suddenly won? Or you acting all strange and cold when you told me you loved me and always would.”

  Fuck. He’d fucked this up hugely.

  “Baby doll,” he started to say. He didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t want to hurt her and he knew what he had to say would do that.

  “I’m fine, Spike. Just tell me.”

  “You’d tell me you were fine if you were bleeding out on the sidewalk.”

  Christ. That imagery was a bit too close to what had happened to be comfortable.

  “I just . . . there’s no use dwelling on problems, right? I mean, growing up as I did, I was just always so grateful that Grandma and Granddad took me in. That I didn’t go to a foster home. That I had so many friends to help me when Grandma got ill. There’s no point in thinking too hard about the bad things.”

  He studied her, piecing together what she was telling him. “Is that what you do? When bad things happen you push them aside and think only about the good?”

  “Sort of. If something is really painful then I just push it deep. I imagine this box and it holds all the bad thoughts and memories and things that have happened to me and then I lock the box. Sometimes it feels like it’s going to explode from being overloaded. But yeah . . . that’s how I deal with it.”

  “Baby doll, that’s really not healthy.”

  “Says the man who has blamed himself for his wife’s death for the last ten years,” she replied dryly.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to tell you this.”

  “If it’s about my sister then I deserve to know.”

  “You do. But you just got home from the hospital. You’re exhausted. You need time to heal. You shouldn’t have to think about this right now.”

  “Spike, I need answers. If you have the answers I came here to find, then you have to tell me.”

  She was right. She needed to know. And he had to be the one to tell her. Much as he hated to do that.

  “She’s already dead. How much more can this hurt?” she asked.

  Oh, baby girl. If only she knew.

  “Spike.”

  “I’ll tell you. Just let me talk to the guys first.”

  She rubbed her temples again. He’d noticed how pale she’d grown. “The Iron Shadows guys?”

  He nodded.

  “Why? What do they have to do with anything?”

  “This is their story to tell as well. You getting a migraine?”

  “Yes,” she said in a soft whisper. “I need to lie down.”

  Fuck it. He wished
he hadn’t said anything now. As though it wasn’t enough that she’d been shot. On his watch. Now learning he knew something about her sister’s death had caused her enough stress to get a migraine.

  He stood with her in his arms, hating her whimper of pain.

  “After all this, you’re never going to stress again.”

  “Pretty sure that’s impossible,” she rasped as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He was careful not to jostle her too much as he slowly walked up them.

  Not if she stayed in Little space the whole time it wouldn’t be.

  Fuck. Okay, maybe it was impossible. But he was going to do what he needed to in order to mitigate the stress in her life. He would ensure that she knew she didn’t have to do everything on her own.

  Laying her down on his bed, he quickly pulled all the drapes. Her bag was still downstairs with Chompers in it. Striding into the bathroom, he wet a cloth. When he walked back to her, she was curled up on her side, holding herself stiffly.

  Gently, he drew her hair off her neck and placed the cloth down. Then he ran downstairs, made her a fresh bottle of fairy juice and grabbed her bag, carrying everything back up. Setting the bag down, he pulled out Chompers and placed him beside her.

  Then he pulled her pills out.

  “Baby doll, you need your pills.”

  “No,” she groaned. “Can’t.”

  Poor baby.

  “Come on, it will help make you feel better.”

  She opened one eye to glare at him. “No.”

  “I know you’re hurting. Let Daddy help you. Please. I don’t like you in pain.” He hated it. He wanted to do whatever was necessary to fix it. And knowing he couldn’t, it killed him.

  “Okay,” she muttered.

  She opened her mouth and he gave her the pills then held the bottle to her mouth. Some fairy juice dripped out of the side of her mouth.

  This would be easier with a proper bottle. It was something he’d usually discuss with her first, but she had shown some interest. And if it helped him get her hydrated it could only be a good thing.

  Fuck, he hated leaving her but he needed to get some of the things he’d ordered for her. Including a baby monitor with a camera.

  Walking out, he made a few calls while he was grabbing stuff. After setting up the camera and making sure it worked, he mixed some more fairy juice up into the baby bottle he’d bought for her then set it by her lips.

  He didn’t want to wake her if she was sleeping. But to his surprise, her mouth opened and he slid the nipple in. She started sucking on it.

  When it was half gone, her mouth went slack and he guessed she was in a deeper sleep. After brushing a light kiss on her forehead, he stood.

  “You’re not alone anymore, baby doll. I’m gonna take care of you.”

  * * *

  Razor whistled as he entered the foyer. “Some nice digs you got here, bro. So how come we never come out here for Sunday barbeques, huh?”

  “Because I don’t want you all in my house,” Spike said dryly. “Wouldn’t have you here now if I could leave.”

  But there was no way he was leaving her.

  “What’s this about?” Reyes snapped as he followed Razor. “What was so urgent we had to come all the way out here?”

  “You have something better to do?” Ink asked Reyes. “You gonna get laid or something? Spike, you should let the man get laid, maybe he’d be in a better mood.”

  “Certainly worked for you,” Duke shot at Ink.

  Ink handed over Mr. Fluffy to Spike, placing his bag of stuff in the foyer. “Thanks to you, Betsy and the boys now want a puppy. Only they can’t decide on a breed. I’m gonna end up with three damn puppies.”

  The last one inside was Jason who just nodded his head.

  “Keep your voices down,” Spike told them. “Millie’s asleep. Don’t need you all waking her.”

  “Even more reason we shouldn’t be here,” Reyes said. “Couldn’t you come in?”

  “Not leaving her.” He led the way down to his office. He set Mr. Fluffy down on the floor and the dog promptly jumped on the sofa and settled in.

  So well trained.

  Spike set the monitor down so he could see her sleeping.

  Spike hated that she was in pain. They needed a routine. Something that would help with her stress levels and teach her to lean on him.

  He had a feeling he was going to need a notebook to keep track of all her transgressions while she was injured. He was going to find it hard to get stern with her at the best of times.

  Fuck, this girl. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

  “Couldn’t we have had this chat over the phone?” Reyes asked.

  “Not private enough.”

  Ink rolled his eyes at him. “Who do you think is gonna listen in?”

  “I dunno. Maybe the Fox.”

  “What?” Duke snapped.

  “I’ve gone over this house with a bug detector. It’s clean.”

  “Explain yourself,” Reyes demanded.

  They’d all moved throughout his office. Jason was leaning against a wall, as usual. Both Razor and Reyes were sitting in the chairs across from him, while Duke and Ink had taken seats on the sofa. He looked over them all.

  “Millie came here to try and find who murdered her sister.”

  “Fuck,” Ink said. “She’s only just told you that now?”

  He winced and ran his hand over his face. “My fault. I haven’t exactly been forthcoming with my own shit. Was trying to keep some distance between us.”

  “Yeah?” Ink asked with amusement. “Seems to have gone well for you.”

  Spike shot him a look. Asshole.

  “Anyway, she’s always been adamant that we couldn’t let Luther pick up where his father left off. I figured it was just because she didn’t like the idea of Luther selling pussy. But it’s more than that. Her sister was Daria Marshall.”

  Silence fell through the room.

  “What the fuck?” Reyes spat out. “How?”

  “They’re half-sisters. Different last names from different dads. Millie is ten years older than Daria. Millie’s mom couldn’t be bothered looking after her kids. She dropped Millie off at her grandparents when she was four. Years later, she dropped off Daria. But by then, the grandparents were quite old. Millie had to help out a lot. The granddad died then the grandma got ill and Millie was taking care of her and working and trying to watch over Daria. When she was seventeen, Daria ran off and Millie couldn’t find her. She didn’t know where she was until two cops knocked on her door and told her that Daria had been found murdered. Oh, and that she’d been working as a prostitute.”

  “Fuck,” Razor said. “That poor girl.”

  “She blames herself,” Spike said. “Feels guilty for her death when it wasn’t her fault.”

  “I know someone else like that,” Duke said dryly.

  Spike shot him a look. He got it. It was the same thing he’d been doing all this time. But he wasn’t going to let Millie make the same mistakes he had.

  “Wait. How did she know about Luther’s connection to Daria?” Reyes asked. “Was she following him that night and that’s how she overheard that conversation between him and that rat who was inside Steele’s ranks?”

  “No. That was total coincidence. She doesn’t know that Luther’s old man was the one who recruited Daria. Who fucking sold her to the senator. Or that the senator killed her.”

  “You haven’t told her yet?” Duke asked incredulously.

  “She’s got a migraine. I can’t tell her right now. And I asked her to let me talk to you guys first. Because there’s more.”

  “Fuck me,” Ink groaned. “Why can’t things ever be simple?”

  That just wasn’t their lives, it seemed.

  “Few days after the cops told her about Daria, she lost her job. Thought she was going to lose her home. Her friends are all elderly, they couldn’t help. She gets a knock on the door. Seems she’d won a contest she can’t reme
mber ever entering.”

  “Let me guess, she won enough money to pay all her bills,” Razor said dryly.

  “And to help her grandma’s elderly friends with theirs. With enough left over to want to hire someone to take out Luther. Something she’s quite keen on doing.”

  Jason whistled.

  “So what was this contest?” Reyes asked.

  “Well, she didn’t remember much about the guy who brought her the check. He was tall, with a belly. But the contest was run by a company called For Fox Sake and there was a picture of a fox’s head on the emblem.”

  “Fuck. Me,” Ink breathed.

  They all looked to Duke, waiting for him to explode. Duke was normally a very calm guy. But the Fox knew how to push his buttons. Mainly because the Fox adored Sunny and he wasn’t afraid to send her expensive gifts or threaten Duke if he thought Sunny was at risk in any way.

  “Why would the Fox send money to Millie?” Duke asked.

  Spike shrugged. “Who knows why he does anything? Why did he save Betsy from being buried alive? Why did he save Sunny from Horse and Rory? Why give us alibis?”

  “The guy is a loose unit,” Reyes muttered. “His behavior is erratic. He almost seems to do things on a whim. Like a child. He takes interest in something shiny then moves on to something else when it dulls.”

  “He still finds Sunny shiny,” Duke muttered.

  “Do we call him? Ask?” Jason said. “Sunny has his number, right?”

  “I don’t want Sunny calling him. I don’t want Sunny having anything to do with him,” Duke stated.

  “You have to get past this hatred of him,” Ink told Duke. “At the end of the day, he’s saved all our asses. We owe the guy. And the fact that he saved Betsy means I’m forever indebted to him. Cut him some slack.”

  “All right for you to say, he didn’t send Betsy a motorcycle for her birthday,” Duke muttered. “Who knows what he’ll send her for Christmas? A damn plane?”

  “He enjoys getting a rise out of you,” Razor said.