She had a few hand-me-downs, things her mom picked up at thrift stores, and she cherished those items, but the look on her face when she opened the first doll I bought her nearly brought me to my knees.
She cried. Sobbed. She squeezed that doll close while her body was wracked with gut-wrenching tears. All I could do was hold her. After that, it took some coaxing to get her to actually play with the doll. Change its clothes, pretend to feed it. Normal things a Little girl would do.
Eventually, June came around. She enjoys playing with her toys now, but it still makes my heart seize to watch her from the doorway. This morning, though, she’s uninterested, as though laughing and smiling are inappropriate.
I feel it, too, but it’s not something I can verbalize, and I don’t even know what the hell to call it.
Maybe we’re both still experiencing the intense intimacy at work between us, absorbing what it means, and processing how much we love each other. Neither of us has spoken that word out loud, but we should.
Finally, June grows bored of watching me work in my office. “I’m going to work on my lesson plans,” she tells me.
I wrap my arm around her middle, hold her against my side, and kiss her. “Good idea. Why don’t you do that in your office? I need to go down to the office and meet with my team for a while.” They’re waiting for me.
She sighs. “Okay.”
She hates it when I go downstairs. It’s not that she’s afraid to be alone, nor is she worried anything will happen to her. She’s totally safe in the apartment, and she knows it. What she doesn’t like is that when I go downstairs, I’m meeting with my men about her case.
She’s right. That’s the only reason I leave. If I need to deal with another case, I can do that right here in my home office. But when it comes to her ex and his movements, I do not like to involve her. Maybe I should, but I hate how nervous she gets every time we discuss the asshole.
I kiss her again. “You have your phone with you, right?”
She nods. “It’s on my desk.”
“You’ll call me if you need me?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She leans into me again, rubbing my chest.
“Even if you’re simply spooked, you call me, okay?” Hell, I’m a bit spooked, and I can’t even explain it.
“Yes, Sir.”
After one more kiss, I stand, take her hand, and lead her to her office. It’s also fully furnished now with everything she could possibly need for her job. She’s been doing pretty steady work. She’s even taken on a new client since she moved in.
I’ve probed to make sure she knows she doesn’t have to work if she doesn’t want to, but I won’t mention it again for two reasons. One, it’s obvious my girl loves her job. She’s so animated and excited when she teaches.
But the more important reason I won’t ask her to quit is that working gives her confidence and agency. She needs to know that she can take care of herself. It doesn’t matter that I have more than enough money, and it would be hers if anything happened to me.
That’s not the point. She spent her childhood with a mother who couldn’t take care of her properly. Then she married a man who ensured she, once again, couldn’t care for herself. He made her feel like she didn’t have options. He destroyed something in her that will take years to rebuild.
I hate what he did to her, but she’s strong. She got out. She built a new life. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared and always looking over her shoulder, but she was self-sufficient with her own job and apartment. She could pay her bills. She didn’t have nice things, but she had the basics—food, heat, electricity, and a roof.
I never want a woman not to feel empowered, and working makes my girl feel good about herself, so I will always support her in that. Plus, I sometimes work long hours myself. I wouldn’t want her to grow bored waiting for me.
We’re in a honeymoon phase. When this threat to her is over, I fully intend to put a ring on her finger and formally make her mine in every way.
All the more reason to make sure Stark is out of the picture as soon as possible. She’s married to that asshole. One way or another, that shit needs to end. And frankly, I only see one way.
I shudder as I head down the stairs to the fifteenth floor. There’s a lot of crap I have not shared with June. She doesn’t need to know all the gritty details. I’m protecting her emotionally and making sure she sleeps at night.
When I step into the office, Rachell nods toward the hallway. “They’re in the conference room.”
“Thank you.” I take a breath and join my team. Four men have been working on this for me, and all of them are present. I’m so damn grateful they have taken protecting my girl so seriously. I would expect nothing less from them, but it’s still heartwarming.
Mace holds up his phone. I’ve had everything that comes in from June’s old phone forwarded to all four of these guys. It’s kept me from needing to carry her phone around night and day. I didn’t like the idea of her being with me when I had to check it.
“Another message?” I ask as I take my seat. We don’t need pleasantries between us. We’re tight. Mace taps the screen, and I stiffen as I hear Stark’s voice.
“Not sure what game you think you’re playing, June, but you can’t hide forever. I will find you.”
