by Wyatt, Dani
But those clouds I was walking on?
Yeah, well. They’ve turned to gravel under my feet. I’m at a dead run to my truck, ignoring the pulses of sheer pain shooting through my knees. My own pain doesn’t matter, not when I know there’s something wrong with my girl.
I took out my phone at the store and tracked her location. I do that when she’s away from me, I just can’t help myself. I can go maybe a half hour, then I give in. From the moment I saw her, I knew, if circumstances had been different, I would have been her fucking stalker. Thank Christ she became my ward instead. Saved me a lot of trouble. And probably an arrest record.
When the location of her phone came up and showed me she was back at the house so early, my heart sank. I texted and then called. It went right to voice mail. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. So, I wrapped up my transaction at the jewelry store and hit the parking lot at a run.
I didn’t care if it was just a spat between friends. Anything that affects her life is my responsibility. More now than ever. I also told her if she went anywhere besides the park or Michaela’s apartment if her plans changed at all she was to let me know.
Best case, I have her ass over my knee teaching her a lesson. Worst case—
I don’t want to think about worst case.
The scenery flies by as I weave through traffic heading back to the house. Her phone is pinging from the estate, but the texts are now showing as not delivered, and my calls aren’t even going to voicemail, they aren’t even ringing through. Panic rises in my throat like a balled fist. Seems whenever there is a high in my life, it is followed by a fucking low and something is definitely wrong.
If she’s hurt, I’ll tear down the world to avenge whoever made the mistake of harming her. She’s my everything, and without her, well...after last night, I don’t see life continuing.
I barely even notice the time pass. It seems like one second I’m tearing through traffic and the next I’m urging my legs faster as I tunnel down the hall, heading straight for her room, yelling her name. My fears expand as I see her bedroom door closed. She hasn’t closed her door in years. Even if she’s changing her clothes or whatever, it’s always open a crack as she knows I always knock before coming in.
What could have gone wrong in just a few hours?
“Brinna!” Her name lodges in my throat as I grasp the cool brass handle and turn.
A fist hits my gut as the knob refuses my effort. To my knowledge, there was never a time she locked this door.
“Brinna!” I thunder through the solid wood. “If you’re in there open—”
There’s a noise from behind the barrier, and I pause, waiting for her to come and open the door. To tell me everything is fine and she didn’t mean to lock the door. Just a mistake...
Only, as my heartbeat pulses painfully in my head, no further noise comes.
There is no more wait in me.
I cock back my leg and deliver a single heel strike, just below the knob, splintering the wood and flinging the door back on its hinge so hard it dislodges from the top plate.
Inside, drawers are open in her bureau. Closet and floor are strewn with clothes, and if my fear wasn’t already running in the red, when I see the scraps of torn up lottery tickets tossed over the floor, flames lick at my heart. An open suitcase lays splayed on the bed, with only a few items stuffed inside. Bile rises at the back of my throat when I put the pieces together: she left when she heard me.
Why? Why would my baby run from me? I’m her champion. The warrior that will give her the world as she wants it to be. How am I the enemy? Did what happened last night change for her today? Did I take her too far too fast?
My mind screams with the thoughts of the mistakes I could have made. The harsh need I showed her could have been more than she could handle.
Self-hatred rises up and slams a balled fist into my conscience. I broke the promise I made myself to never touch her. Now look. My own selfish need has driven her away from me and into the arms of a world that could hurt her.
With a full scan of the rest of the room, my eyes settle on the crack in the bathroom door, through which I can see the curtains falling through the open window.
I must have screamed her name twenty times as I ran back down the hallway. The window was too small for me to fit or I would have thrown myself through it and saved the precious few minutes it took me to blaze my trail out the back door.
The grass gives away the trail of her footfalls, and one of my strides covers at least five of hers.
What the fuck is happening here? An hour ago, my world was finally settling. I had taken my girl, sure in myself that I was the man—no, the Daddy—she deserved and needed. Now?
She’s on the run, and I have no idea what’s wrong.
The flames that surround my heart swell and take over my lungs as I run, faster, faster, until I can no longer feel my legs. The sound of my grunts and my ragged breathing meet with the slamming of each pain-infused step.
The impressions of her tracks lead into the contained forest at the edge of the property. We rarely come back here. It’s wild, the woods grown over with brush and vines.
“Brinna! If you can hear me, stop!” I bellow as I force my way into the thick growth, wondering how she could do the same. She was wearing a short skirt when I left her, and as I move deeper, the thorns and vines tear at my heavy khaki pants.
As I near the edge of the woods, I can hear the cars moving down Alpine Avenue. When I finally burst through the last few trees, my heart sinks. There is no sign of her. She could be long gone by now.
Cabs run up and down the street, and I wonder if she’s gone forever.
Chapter Nine
Ace
A FEW CARS MOVE UP and down the street where there are boutiques and a few restaurants and coffee shops as I labor to catch my breath, wincing at the pain in my thighs as I try to decide which way to go.
The pain can go to hell, I have to find Brinna.
I turn to my left, my eyes lighting on everyone I see, but it is to no avail.
She’s gone. You drove her away, you selfish prick. It was too much. Too fast.
Standing here is doing me no good, so instinct tells me to head to my right where there are more people and activity with shops and restaurants. I drive my legs to carry me at a run, again not sure if I’m getting closer to her or farther away.
Cars honk as I dart into the street toward the coffee houses and restaurants that are clustered together, praying I catch a glimpse of her sitting inside, unsettled but unhurt, and we can work through whatever the fuck is happening.
I told her to tell me everything. To come to me with all her thoughts. Fears. Desires. I wanted it all. Why didn’t she call?
An unfamiliar feeling comes over me. My chest tightens, and there’s a fist the size of a watermelon lodged just below my diaphragm as my eyes begin to burn.
I push forward as the first guttural sob forces its way from my throat. Something burns on my cheek, and as I swipe the back of my hand there it comes back wet. It sounds dumb, but I don’t ever remember crying. Not since I was a little kid. Not even at either of my parents’ funerals.
The fight to hold back the grief that threatens to overwhelm me is sending my fingernails into my palms as I ball my fists tighter and slow to a jog, looking into the window of the coffee shop as I pass. In a split second, I decide I should keep going. She could be in there, maybe in the restroom, but instead of going inside my gut tells me to move forward.
As I come around the corner of the building the breath is taken from my lungs.
“Brinna!” I snarl.
Her head snaps around, hair spinning into the air. Her eyes are red, raw with tears. She’s as beautiful as ever, but her face shows fear not relief at the sight of me.
She’s standing next to a car, talking to whoever is inside and it only takes another breath to see it’s Michaela.
I’m on her in seconds.
“Go away!” she
shouts, and I see Michaela emerge from the driver’s side of the small sedan.
“I’m not fucking going anywhere.” Unrestrained anger takes over when I see the cuts and trails of blood streaming down her legs from running through the woods. “You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on. Why are you running from me?”
I’ve got her by the elbow as she twists away, the backpack on her back smacking into my upper arm. The thought of her running from me has me seeing red.
“Let her go!” Michaela yells as I struggle, trying to get Brinna to look at me. “I’ll call the fucking cops!”
“Step down.” I lock my arm straight out. “I don’t know what is going on here, but I do not need your help.”
“She’s my friend. She’s the one that told me about things you didn’t!” Brinna’s eyes spill over, and I’ve never understood before now the pain of watching someone you love cry. I never want to see it again.
“Okay, everyone just calm the fuck down.” I keep my grip on Brinna’s arm as her free fist pummels into my chest. Drawing in a deep breath, I turn a glare on Michaela, who looks like a panther ready to pounce. “A few hours ago, everything was right as rain, now the god damn sky is falling.”
“I told her about the blonde.” Michaela juts out a hip and crosses her arms over her chest. “The one you’re with all the damn time.”
People are stopping to stare as they wander into the coffee shop and if things keep escalating it’s only a matter of time before someone does call the cops.
“Blonde?” My head spins.
“Yes. Blonde. With a kid.” Michaela snaps at me, giving me another few jabs of her tiny fist. “I see you. My apartment is over there—"
“Stop that, it’s annoying.” I block her next shot. It’s not helping us get whatever this bullshit situation is under control. “You hit me again, and I’m going to tan that little ass of yours as soon as we get home.”
“I’m not going home! I’m leaving. You can have your life with her. I was just a little kinky fantasy. You got what you wanted from me, took from me I should say.” When her voice cracks, so does my heart.
“I’ve seen you with her since I moved in. My apartment is on Main Street. I’ve seen you guys, like, a dozen times together. So, when my friend told me what happened last night with you, she needed to know. Cheating ass—” Michaela stops on that last word when I cock my head to the side and give her a death stare.
“Both of you. Take a fucking breath.” I look at Brinna, whose eyes are searching my face. I can see in them, my little girl. Scared and wishing whatever is happening would be over, and I’m about to give that to her.
“Is it true? Are you with her, the blonde?” Brinna’s voice is tinged with sadness and hope.
“No.” I shake my head, darting my eyes from Michaela’s doubting face to Brinna’s. “Fuck no. I mean, yes I’ve been with her, but no not like that.”
I let Brinna’s hand and arm go, reaching up to cup her wet cheeks in my hands.
“Then who is she?”
I sigh, this is not how I wanted this to go. In my heart, I never wanted Brinna to know about my issues. The fact that when I met her four years ago, I probably couldn’t have completed a second-grade math test. That it’s taken me this long to regain the parts of me I lost on that street in Kabul. And not just my cognitive skills.
“She’s my accountant.” I manage, then on a deep breath I add, “And my tutor.”
The looks of confusion on both the girls’ faces tell me at least they heard what I said and the tension seems to dissipate for a moment.
“Tutor?” Michaela repeats, squinting one eye. “I bet, she tutors you.”
I shoot a glare at Michaela and she flips me off. Brinna’s eyes scan my face as my thumbs move slowly over her cheeks, wiping away the last of the tears there.
“Babygirl.” I shake my head, then bend hers forward and set a kiss on her forehead. “I would never, in a thousand lifetimes, hurt you. Cheat on you. Fuck, I told you, since the first time I looked at you, I’ve never thought of anyone else. The very idea that I’d be seeing anyone else is crazy. You are it for me.”
I adjust her head, so her eyes are on mine. The thought of how they reminded me of sunflowers that first day tightens my chest. So sweet. So innocent. Looking up at me now, desperate for me to make it all better. And I will.
“So you and the blonde lady—” She swallows hard. “And the kid.”
“She’s helped me since I got back from deployment. She was Emily’s accountant. That fucking bomb blast, it not only left the physical damage, but it fucked up my head too. I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to be the man you deserved. It’s taken me all these years to relearn stuff that the concussion took away. She’s the one that has taken care of the finances, invested our money, helped me figure out a business of my own so I can take care of you. Of us.”
“But we have money. A house. Everything we need.”
“No. That’s not me. Lamb.” I inhale her deeply through my nose, closing my eyes and trying to find the words so she will understand. “A real man takes care of what’s his. I need you to know I can provide for us and not just rely on what Emily left. I need you to be proud of me, too.”
The last sentence hits home. I see a flash of surprise cast over Brinna’s face as the truth of that statement settles in me as well.
“I am proud of you. You could have told me. I could have helped you all along. I love you, Daddy,” she whispers that last word and the burning in my eyes returns.
“And I fucking love you, Lamb. Forever. This was all just a misunderstanding. And my stupid pride. But baby, you could have just asked me. Did I not tell you I wanted to know everything? I wanted all of you? And yes, that includes any insecurities. Any questions about me. Communicate everything to me, my sweet girl. I want it all. If you think it, feel it, give it to me. Anytime of the day or night.”
The wind picks up and swirls her hair around our faces. That scent of her that seeps into my soul drives my need for her to its limits.
“So, what? All is well? Life is good? No one is running away, no one is cheating? You two want to give me something to work with here?” Michaela chimes in, and I draw back slightly from Brinna.
“All’s well.” My girl directs the words towards her friend. “No more running away.”
I clear my throat and look down at her. “That’s right. New rule.” I nod and swallow before finishing. “No running away. Ever. Got it?”
“Got it.” She smiles and my heart twitches along with my cock. “I love you.”
Michaela shrugs. “Just like that? Wow, okay you’re easy. But okay. Good. So, now what?”
“Now I’m going to get Brinna home.” I turn to my girl. “Then I’m going to take care of these cuts, and a few other parts of you.” I reach down for her hand and when she grips mine back with a smile on her face the last bit of raging fear drains from me. In its place, a new responsibility rallies in me. A responsibility to prove to her I am the man I say and give her time to trust me in our new relationship, so nothing like this will ever happen again.
“And I’m going to take care of parts of you, too.” She softens more on a giggle, and her other hand reaches over to grasp my forearm, laying her head against me.
“All’s well that ends well. You two gonna hoof it back through the brush, call an Uber or let me be your chariot?” Michaela snaps her tongue in her cheek. “Because y’all are making me a nauseous at this point.”
Chapter Ten
Brinna
“OUCH.” I WINCE AND squint my eyes shut.
I’m sitting on the bed in what used to be his bedroom, which he now says is ours, with my legs straight out. I’m naked from when he brought me to the master bath and stripped me, then gave me a quick warm bath and washed my hair before carefully drying me and brushing out my mess of tangled tresses.
After that, he took his time inspecting every inch of my body for damage and looking as though he may cry
as he inventoried every cut and every thorn stuck into my body from my trip through the brush. Then he carried me to the bed, laid me down and spread my legs, eating me to so many orgasms I lost count and had to plead for him to stop.
He did, then brought his hard cock to my lips and ordered me to suck like a good girl, which I did eagerly. He patted my head, telling me how good my mouth felt on him, and I loved hearing the sounds of pleasure he made, especially knowing they were because of what I was doing to him.
It didn’t take long before he pulled out, grabbed me by the hair and ordered me to open my mouth and stick out my tongue. He shot jets of his hot release into my mouth and on my face, then onto my bare breasts.
He spent the next few minutes rubbing his cum into my skin, telling me again how I was never to leave the house again without wearing him on me or inside me, at his discretion of course.
Now, we’re both right here, and he’s sitting on the side of the bed, tending a second time to each scrape and splinter. Even though it hurts, I secretly love how he’s taking care of me, just like a father would his own daughter.
“Baby, I’m sorry, but I have to take care of these, or they may get infected.” Ace is concentrating so hard his forehead is deep with furrows. “Sometimes love hurts, Lamb, isn’t that right?”
His wry smile distracts me momentarily until he plucks the small splinter of thorn out of my calf with the tweezers and I hiss a breath through my teeth.
“Is that the last one?” I pout.
“Yes. That’s the last. A little peroxide and I think we’re all set for now.” He reaches over to the nightstand and wets a new cotton ball with the brown bottle of disinfectant, bringing it to the fresh drop of blood on my skin. “Don’t ever run from me again, you understand?”