She nodded. "I cried for days. After that, I learned not to get attached to things. People either."
"Some people don't understand that comfort objects aren't about age," I said. "They're about security, about having something constant in a changing world." I glanced at her andadmitted something I'd never told anyone. "That's how I feel about my team."
Emily's eyes filled again, but she blinked back the tears, reached over and squeezed my fingers. "I've never told anyone about Barnaby before."
"Thank you for sharing that with me," I said softly.
She nodded, her fingers still stroking the bear's fur. After a moment, she tentatively moved up onto the bed, settling against the pillows with Barnaby tucked against her side. Her eyes were growing heavy, though she fought against it. I could see she was scared.
I got up and went to the dresser, opening a small drawer and taking a clean pacifier out of a case. This one had an image of a teddy bear on the end. She watched me as I returned to the bed like I was carrying an unexploded bomb.
"It's okay to rest," I told her. "Anubis will be by your side and I won't leave the house." Both dogs had been silent but looked up at the name.
"Promise?" Her voice had that higher, softer quality again.
"I promise," and held the pacifier to her lips. “Open wide, little one.” The endearment slipped out naturally, and I watched carefully for her reaction. Her eyes widened slightly, and almost a flicker of distaste crossed her face but then she opened her mouth obediently.
I simply bent and kissed her lips, which I could tell surprised her. "You prefer your thumb," I said, completely convinced. I had no idea of how old she was as a Little, so it was good to find out.
Her cheeks flushed. "I—" She glanced down but I very gently hooked my finger under her chin and made her raise her head and met her worried gaze. She was worried she might disappoint me. What a fascinating combination of sweetness and stubbornness.
"That's okay, sweetheart. One of the amazing things about being a Daddy is working out what you like."
"But what if it isn't the same as you'd like?" Her voice was barely a whisper, and I leaned down and kissed the end of her adorable nose.
"But that's the beauty of being a Daddy. Growing into what we both need and respecting each other’s decisions and limits. So far, I have two non-negotiables. Your safety, as I said, and putting yourself down. You're new to this. You can take your time to find out exactly what you want."
Tired as she was, I hadn't realized just how stressed she was until she relaxed. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion. I watched her sleep, such fierce anger bubbling up in me. This brave, complicated woman who fought so hard for others while denying herself basic comfort—she deserved the world. I was determined to give it to her…whether she liked it or not.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I slipped out of the room quietly, pulling the door mostly closed behind me before checking the message.
Walker:Got the lockbox. Heading back now. ETA 30 min.
I texted back a quick acknowledgment, then moved to the window at the end of the hallway, watching the world outside with heightened vigilance. The knowledge that someone had tried to take Emily a second time—made every shadow seem threatening. My protective instincts, already in overdrive since meeting her, had only intensified after seeing her in that Little room, curled up with Barnaby.
She fit so naturally in that space I'd created years ago. The space I'd nearly given up on ever being used.
I checked the security cameras on my phone, scanning the perimeter of my property. Everything looked clear, but I'd learned long ago never to trust appearances. Rice's reach wasextensive, his resources nearly unlimited. If he wanted Emily badly enough, he'd try to get to her.
Over my dead body.
The thought came unbidden, fierce and absolute. I hadn't known Emily long, but in that short time, she'd awakened something in me I thought had died during my years in combat. A tenderness. A need to protect not just because of duty, but from something deeper.
Thirty minutes later, as Walker had said, the security system chimed, announcing the arrival of a vehicle. I checked the cameras again and saw Walker's truck pulling up the drive. I went through the kitchen to meet him but ducked back first to take one last look at Emily's sleeping form before heading to the door.
Walker entered carrying a medium-sized metal lockbox.
"Any trouble?" I asked quietly, leading him to the kitchen.
"Place was clean," Walker reported. "Almost too clean. No signs of surveillance, no forced entry." He set the lockbox on the counter. "But it felt wrong."
"Wrong how?" I asked, my instincts instantly alert.
Walker shrugged. "Like someone had already been there but tried to make it look untouched. Things were in place, but not quite right. Like they were looking for something," Walker added. "Maybe this." He tapped the lockbox.
I examined the metal box. It was sturdy but standard—the kind you could buy at any office supply store. "Did you check it for trackers?"
Walker scoffed like that was a dumb question. "Maddox went with me but I dropped him off with Clare." He nodded to the box. "Clean. The lock is simple but hasn't been broken so I doubt if they found it."
