Protector Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  They were mistaken.

  The five of them lay on the ground, broken and bleeding. But not dead.

  It wasn’t enough.

  “You need to go now,” Steele told him as he slipped on his jacket. The big man looked invigorated. As though he’d just gone for a run. He and Grady hadn’t taken many hits. Steele was an ex-cage fighter. He wasn’t someone to underestimate. And despite his genteel appearance, Grady wasn’t either.

  “I’ll stay.” Corey shot his woman.

  “You don’t need to be here for this part,” Steele told him, his pale blue eyes intense.

  “It’s my fight too.”

  “Yeah. And you fought your part,” Steele countered. “You don’t need to do this part. Leave it to us. Our souls are already fully black.”

  He shook his head.

  “Listen to him, Quillon,” Grady said, using his real name. “You should go home to that gorgeous girl of yours and leave this to us.”

  “The puppies,” he muttered.

  “What?” Steele and Grady exchanged a look.

  “The other puppies like Mr. Fluffy. Luther was transporting puppies and lost one. But where are the other ones? I need to get those puppies. Millie will never forgive me if I don’t take care of them.”

  “I’ve got guys circling in on their headquarters just out of the city. I can get someone to grab the puppies and bring them to you,” Steele told him.

  “I’ll go myself and get them before I go home. You don’t know how much Millie loves animals.”

  “Go,” Steele said. “We’ll take care of the trash here.”

  “It will be our pleasure.” Grady smiled. It wasn’t a pretty smile.

  Spike walked out of the warehouse, rolling his shoulders. He grabbed out his phone to call Hack and saw he’d already received a text from him over an hour ago.

  I’m here. We’re fine. Have fun!

  Idiot.

  He sent a text back.

  Be home in two hours. Keep my girl safe.

  “Spike!”

  He looked up and saw his brothers waiting on him. He slipped the phone into his pocket. He’d call home soon.

  “Waiting for me?” he asked.

  Razor grinned. “Figured we’d better make certain you were okay. Gotten used to seeing your ugly mug.”

  Spike just shook his head as Duke came up and whacked his back. “All done?”

  “Steele and Grady are tidying up.”

  Reyes nodded. They all knew what that meant.

  “Back to Reaper’s for a drink?” Razor asked.

  “I best get home to Sunny,” Duke said.

  “I better get home too,” Ink added. “The boys wanted to come. They’ll have driven Betsy nuts all night.”

  “I have to go retrieve some puppies,” Spike told them.

  “Puppies?” Razor asked.

  “Yeah. But thanks guys, appreciate your help,” he said awkwardly.

  Ink grinned. “What else is family for, man, but to come armed to a beat down with a gang? I’m shocked I don’t get asked to do that more often.”

  * * *

  Spike could barely hear himself think from all the barking.

  While Mr. Fluffy might be narcoleptic, it seemed his brothers and sister were the opposite. They were boisterous. Energetic. And one of them was chewing on his damn seatbelt.

  He needed to call home. He’d tried to check in on his way to the Devil’s Sinner headquarters, but Steele had called him. Then he’d decided that maybe it was best to wait until after he had safely rescued the puppies. No use worrying Millie more than necessary. But now he really needed to hear her voice. Using the truck’s Bluetooth, he was about to call home when his phone rang. “Yeah?”

  “Ah, Spike, we got a situation here,” Razor told him.

  “Got a bit of a situation here myself,” he yelled over the puppies barking.

  “Well, think you best come deal with this one. Five, um, older folks just walked into the bar demanding to see you. One says he’s Russian mafia, he’s already threatened to skin several of the guys. Another is deaf as fuck and is yelling everything. And then there’s the one they’re calling Reverend Pat. Spike, they’ve cleared out half the fucking bar.”

  “Fuck. They’re Millie’s family. Just get them out to Reyes’ office and I’ll be there soon.”

  “Well, put your foot down, man. Before everyone clears out.”

  42

  Her head was pounding. Nausea bubbled in her stomach. Was she having a migraine? But why did her neck hurt so much? Why was she lying on something hard? And who was yelling?

  Her shoulder was in agony. Where was Spike? What was going on? She took shallow breaths to try and manage the pain and nausea.

  “It’s all this bitch’s fault!” someone roared.

  Her heart raced. She knew that voice.

  Who was it?

  She wished she could think. But it was like all her thoughts were coming through sludge.

  “Now I have nothing! Your fucking cousin is after me! Steele is gunning for me and the fucking Devil’s Sinners want my guts.”

  There was another voice. Feminine. Her voice was low and quiet so Millie couldn’t make out the words. Then there was the sound of skin slapping against skin.

  Then a cry.

  Had he hit her?

  “All because I fucking lost one goddamn puppy and this bitch picked him up! How was I supposed to know she was listening in? That she would tell Steele what she heard? What were the fucking odds of that?”

  Another slapping sound. Another cry.

  Millie wanted to protest. Wanted to help the woman. As she forced her eyes open, she realized who that voice belonged to.

  Luther.

  “Wake up, you stupid bitch!” A kick landed against her thigh and she screamed in pain.

  “Stop it, Luther!” the woman cried.

  Millie groaned, trying to curl up to protect herself.

  “Get out of the way, you ugly bitch.”

  More hits. More cries.

  Millie forced her eyes open, her vision was blurred but she could see they were still at the house. What had happened? How had Luther gotten in here?

  Hack!

  He’d been hurt. Obviously by Luther. Had he killed him? Oh God, where was he?

  She couldn’t think over all the yelling Luther was doing.

  She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision. It was then that she saw the other woman. She was sitting on the floor, her arms over her head as Luther screamed down at her.

  Oh no.

  He reached down and started slapping at her. She had to stop him. She had to do something.

  “Stop!” she croaked out. “Stop hurting her.”

  She didn’t know who the other woman was, but she was obviously a victim to this asshole.

  Luther turned, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.

  “You fucking bitch! This is all your fault! I was gonna run this fucking town! Her fucking cousin was too much of a pussy to take over, so I was going to do it. I fucking had it all worked out until you ruined it all.”

  He reached down and grabbed her, dragging her up. She screamed as fire engulfed her shoulder and side. He shook her, not caring about her pain. Mr. Fluffy started barking and attacking Luther’s ankles. He shook him off then kicked the dog, sending him flying. He let out a pained whimper.

  “No!” she screamed.

  “I ought to put a fucking bullet in your brain right now.” He shoved her down against the sofa. Sweat coated her skin as she lay there, trying to manage the pain. Everything hurt, but nothing more than her shoulder and head.

  “Luther, no! You can’t shoot her. Please! Stop!”

  She forced herself to look up, her vision was still blurry but not enough that she could mistake the gun aimed at her.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  Spike expected to walk into chaos.

  So he was shocked when he found the bar was almost quiet. It had mostly cleared out
of patrons which wasn’t good for tonight’s takings, but there were still about twenty people all gathered around one of the larger tables.

  “Woot! Will you look at that? I’ve won again,” a female voice said.

  There were a series of groans as he walked forward to find a woman with frizzy, gray hair sitting at the table along with a couple of Iron Shadows guys. Behind her stood a slightly stooped man with thick glasses. Over at the bar, someone hooted with laughter.

  A big, gray-haired man dressed in a flannel shirt whacked Razor on the back. “That is good joke, man. I remember that when we go back to Nowhere.” The man spoke with a Russian accent.

  Razor gave him a puzzled look. “That wasn’t a joke.”

  Behind the bar, another woman was showing Jewel how to mix a cocktail. She wore a green floral dress and a huge, wide-brimmed white hat.

  What the fuck?

  Shock flooded him as he stared around, taking it in.

  Someone poked him in the back and he turned to find a short, round man glaring up at him.

  “It’s about time you got here, young man,” he said.

  The bar went silent, watching on. Reyes stood behind the man, glaring at Spike.

  “Reverend Pat, good to meet you. None of you mentioned you were visiting.”

  “We’re here to check up on Millie,” the woman who’d been playing poker said, coming around to stand by the reverend. The man who’d been behind her came and stood with her.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Spain, Millie is fine. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

  Especially without giving him a heads-up.

  “We thought it would be a good surprise, yes?” the Russian man boomed. “Give you no time to try and hide anything.”

  “What would I hide?”

  “I don’t know. Dead bodies in the closet.”

  “Skeletons in the closet, dear,” the woman from behind the bar said.

  “Skeletons? Who would let them decay in the closet?” Andrey boomed. “The stink would be terrible.”

  “Take us to Millie,” Reverend Pat said. “Now.”

  * * *

  Millie licked her dry lips.

  Her heart pounded. She had to do something. Fast. Not just for her but for the poor, broken woman lying across from her. And for Hack.

  Oh God, Hack. Where was he?

  “What do you want?” she rasped.

  “I want you fucking dead,” Luther snarled at her.

  “That’s not what you really want. Right? You want power. Money.” An idea came to her. “What if I had enough money that you could get away from here? Start over. You could just take it and go.”

  “Banks can track fucking wire transfers, bitch. I won’t even be able to access it without some fancy fucking off-shore account.”

  “I have cash. Lots of cash. All you have to do is leave us here. Alive.”

  “Or you can just give me the cash and I can still fucking shoot you.”

  Okay. So her negotiation skills needed work.

  “Where’s the fucking money?” Luther screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

  Gross. So gross.

  Where was Spike? What about Hack?

  “Tell me where the money is or I’ll fucking shoot you! This better not be a fucking trick!”

  “It’s not! I’ll get it for you!” She tried to pull herself up. Maybe if she stalled long enough Spike would get here.

  She was shaking too hard and in too much pain to get her legs under her so she could stand.

  “Get up, you fat bitch.”

  “She can’t,” the other woman said. “You hurt her.”

  Millie looked over at the other woman, urging her to stay silent. She didn’t want him turning his rage back on the poor, small woman. Millie winced as she took in her face. One eye was swollen shut and there was dried blood under her nose. What other injuries did she have?

  “Shut the fuck up! Or I’m gonna put a bullet in your brain!” Luther screamed at her.

  The other woman whimpered and Millie gathered her strength, managing to push herself up using the sofa behind her. She swayed, black dots dancing through her vision.

  Don’t faint. Don’t faint.

  “Fucking hell! This is all such a mess! I should be in a position of power. I’m meant to be someone. Instead, here I am with two sniveling bitches, on the run. Where’s the money, bitch?”

  Spike, please hurry.

  “Bitch, you better answer me!”

  Didn’t he know any other insults?

  “In the office.” She stumbled through the room, trying to stay upright.

  “Stay here,” he barked at the other woman. He followed so close behind her that she could smell the stench of his body odor. She was nearly gagging by the time she reached the office.

  Spike, please, I need you.

  “It’s in the floor. Over here.”

  “This better not be a fucking trick, bitch, or you’re dead.”

  She figured she was dead either way.

  Please, Spike. Please. I love you.

  She managed to slide down to her knees, holding onto the arm of the couch with her good hand. Everything hurt. God, it hurt. She had to take shallow breathes as she shook with agony.

  “Hurry up!” Luther yelled, waving the gun around. “I don’t know when that bastard will be back.”

  Hopefully soon. Please be soon.

  She pushed aside the end table then tugged at the floor. “It’s in here.”

  Oh no.

  How had she forgotten that she’d need to get into the safe? What was the code? She had no idea. A whimper escaped.

  “What is it? Open the fucking safe!” Luther screeched.

  She winced. His yelling wasn’t helping her think. With a shaking hand, hoping she was right she input six numbers into the office safe.

  The date of Jacqui’s death.

  To her shock, a green light flashed and she grabbed the handle, pulling the door open. Then she reached in and heaved at the bag of cash. It was so heavy that by the time she managed to get it out, her breath was sawing in and out of her lungs and those black dots had returned. She sat back, shaking and pointed to the bag.

  “In there.”

  “Open it,” Luther told her, watching her suspiciously.

  It took her a few attempts to pull down the zipper, but she finally managed it. Luther went to his knees, greed lighting up his face as he took in the cash.

  Counterfeit cash.

  But hopefully, he didn’t look too closely.

  As he was distracted, staring at the money, she spotted the woman creeping into the room. She had a metal poker that usually sat on a stand beside the log fireplace in her hand.

  Millie tried not to watch her, not to tense up as she tip-toed into the room and raised the poker.

  Luther was reaching into the bag when the woman got close enough to swing. Then he must have sensed something because he turned. “What the fuck!”

  But as he swung around a ball of fluff attacked with a growl, distracting him from shooting and the woman swung the poker at his head. It landed with a sickening crunch. Millie stared on in shock as Luther stilled. For a moment, she thought the woman hadn’t hit him hard enough. Then he rolled to the side, his eyes drifting closed.

  Millie watched for a moment, hardly believing her eyes. Mr. Fluffy stood there, his hackles raised, snarling at the man on the floor. She forced herself to scramble over to grab the gun. She got it in her good hand as the other woman just stared down at Luther, a blank look on her face.

  “Mr. Fluffy!” she cried out as the puppy came over to her, trying to lick her face, his tail wagging. “You did so good. Good boy. My good boy.”

  “I got him,” the woman said.

  “You got him. You got him. Everything’s going to be okay, now. I’m going to call my Daddy. He’ll come. Everything’s okay,” Millie rambled.

  “I got him. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “No, he can’t.”

  M
illie tried to stand, crying out in frustration as her legs wouldn’t work.

  “Hack! Oh God, where’s Hack?”

  “The other man? I think he’s still outside. I think he’s dead.”

  “No, no, no, I need to check on him. I need to call Daddy. Oh no.” She tried to stand and slipped onto her bottom once more with a pained cry.

  A small hand reached out to her and she looked up at the woman who smiled down at her. “Hi, I’m Tabby.”

  “Hi, Tabby, I’m Millie.”

  * * *

  His phone rang as he gathered everyone up in Reyes’ office. All five of Millie’s friends as well as Reyes, Razor and Jason.

  Pulling his phone out, he frowned as he saw it was his home line. Would Millie still be up this late? Fuck. He never did get around to calling her earlier. He should have known she wouldn’t sleep until she heard from him.

  “Millie?” he answered.

  “Spike? Oh God, Spike. You’re okay.” Her voice sounded odd. Filled with tears and raspy as though she had a sore throat.

  “Course I am. Baby doll, what’s wrong?”

  She’d started sobbing. Huge sobs that reached inside him and twisted up his gut until he could barely breathe. “Millie! What’s wrong?”

  He was aware of everyone staring at him, hyper alert.

  “I w-was so s-scared,” she managed to get out.

  “Because I didn’t call? I’m sorry,” he crooned. “I’m fine.”

  Where the fuck was Hack? Why had he let her get into this state? She cried into the phone, breaking his fucking heart.

  He was going to kill Hack.

  “Baby doll, listen.” He gave Reyes a look that told him to keep everyone here. Reyes nodded back, not looking at all pleased. Not that Spike blamed him. Reverend Pat was pissed that he wasn’t being taken to Millie immediately, Mrs. Larsen was chatting to Jason about tattoos. Mr. Spain was snoring on the couch and Mrs. Spain seemed to be sharing recipes with Razor. That left Reyes to face off with Reverend Pat and the big Russian guy.

  He slid out into the corridor. Millie was still sobbing. Fuck. He needed to get home to her. But first he needed to calm her down before she made herself ill.