“That’s good.”
I appreciate the fact that my guys care about her already. Several of my team have Little girls of their own, so I know they understand that my life will be consumed with her for a while as we navigate our relationship and dynamic.
It’s curious that so many of us are Daddy Doms. Maybe it’s not a coincidence. Perhaps we put off a vibe that draws us together in like-mindedness. It’s possible I sense the nurturing side in candidates when I interview them.
We are all tough as nails. We’ve all been in the military at some point. We’ve seen combat. We still see it here. And we don’t let anyone fuck with our own. When business needs taking care of, we get shit done.
I fear this situation with June might need serious intervention. I won’t have her living in fear or under any sort of threat. If her ex is the one fucking with her, he’s in for a surprise for thinking he can get away with it.
Mace continues, “I assume you’d like an update on Pete Stark.”
“Yes.”
“A few of the guys set up surveillance cameras on his house. Curious development. It would seem the woman we first saw has been evicted. He brought a trash bag out to his truck, tossed it in the back, and then manhandled her into the passenger seat. Sped off and returned two hours later without the woman or the bag. Gotta assume the black bag was her possessions.”
“Any idea where he took her?” My skin crawls. What did you do with her, you fucker?
“Yep. Dropped her at a bus station. I found them both on security cameras. Looks like he bought her a ticket out of town and left her.”
I run a hand over my face. At least he didn’t kill her and dump the body. I wonder how many women he’s rotated in and out of that house in the past three years.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mace adds.
“Yeah. Now that he’s found his long-lost wife, he’s planning to drag her home, and he needed to clean house.”
“Yep. I’ve got eyes on him. He must be working in construction. Guessing he took the morning off to deal with his latest victim. He changed clothes and took off again at about noon. Khakis, orange vest, hardhat.”
I inhale deeply. “See if you can figure out where he’s working.”
“On it.” Mace ends the call.
My skin is crawling, and my jaw is so tight I’m going to end up with a headache. There’s no way that fucker is going to get to June. She’s safe here. No one can get in. But I hate her living in fear, and she’s not going to be able to leave the apartment alone until I’m certain the threat to her is eliminated.
The fact that Stark ditched the other woman is a sign that he intends to drag his wayward wife back into the fold, but that doesn’t mean he won’t beat the hell out of her or even kill her, given the opportunity.
There’s nothing else I can do right this second, so I deal with my accumulating emails and pass everything off I can to my men.
I’m just finishing when the groceries are delivered, so I meet someone from the lobby at the elevator and haul everything into the kitchen. I’m not surprised June is still sleeping. She needs her rest. She’s been dealing with nonstop stress, numerous bruises and lacerations, and a broken arm for a few days.
After another round of packages arrive, I make a casserole with ingredients I’m pretty sure she approves of so I can pop it in the oven later. I’m just finishing up when June shuffles into the kitchen.
My heart stops.
She’s so Little. Her eyes are sleepy. Her hair is tousled. The nightgown is precious. She’s even clutching the new bear.
I hurry over to her, sweep her into my arms, and hold her against me. “How was your nap?”
She sets her head on my shoulder. “Good. I feel groggy still.”
“You haven’t gotten enough sleep in a few days, Little one. Plus, you’re under stress. Your adrenaline is crashing.” I carry her into the living room.
“So many packages…” she muses.
“Yeah. We don’t have to open them if you want to wait. I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed by anything, especially not by my lifestyle preferences.”
“I’m still processing everything.”
I kiss her temple. “I know you are, Little one.”
