Page 2 of Bash

Smoke didn’t say anything, but he did send me a smug grin before sliding back into his station. Fucking asshat.

“Where are you taking my baby?” Blade yelled across the shop.

Sighing, I walked over to where he was working on a client. “I’m going to get Allyson.”

“And take her where?”

Fuck, I didn’t know. I hadn’t made it that far yet.

“I’ll figure it out when I get there,” I said instead.

“Okay. Eloise needs to eat lunch at 12:30 so she can take her meds,” Blade reminded me.

I scoffed. Duh. I had an alarm set on my phone for his Little one. Smoke did too. We all cared about the Little ones. They’d really made our makeshift family complete.

He laughed. “I’m sorry. Overprotective Daddy. Be good, Little girl.” He opened his arms and she gave him a big hug while I swallowed down my jealousy. I wanted a love like theirs so badly. I was a mean, sadistic son of a bitch, but I knew I’d be a damn good Daddy too.

“I promise,” Eloise vowed solemnly, releasing him and turning to take my hand.

I led her from the shop and out to my truck. After buckling her in, I climbed in and started the truck.

“She’s at the hotel on Second Street,” Eloise informed me. “I checked her location.”

“Why is she there?” I asked with a frown, heading toward the older motel. It was run-down with no security, definitely not safe for a Little girl, especially a saccharine sweetheart like Allyson.

“It’s the closest hotel to the shelter and they charge by the hour,” she explained, blushing a bit. Yes, they did charge by the hour because it was a hotel that tolerated sketchy business. Drug deals and prostitution. Bile burned the back of my throat. Was Allyson in a bad situation?

“Eloise, honey. Is Allyson okay? Does she need more money or maybe some help?”

“No, why would you…. Oh goodness! No, Uncle Bash. She just can’t stay at the shelter during the day. But she’s sick andcouldn’t come to work, so she went there to stay until she can check back in at the shelter. It’s not the best, but it’s cheaper than paying for a full night.”

I blew out a breath as relief filled me. “She can’t stay at the shelter even if she’s sick?” Poor baby. Poorbabies. It must be so hard to have to pack up everything and find a place to stay when you weren’t feeling well. I wondered what the women who didn’t have jobs did. Allyson could afford a few hours because she worked at Daddies Ink, but what did the other women do?

“No. Nobody is allowed to stay after the alarm goes off.”

Reaching over, I grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“It’s okay, Uncle Bash. We were really lucky not to have to sleep on the streets and Ms. Ramsey is still really nice to us. She just is getting older and can’t keep it open during the day too.”

I thought over her words, but didn’t comment. Daddies Ink did a lot for the shelter, but it looked like maybe we needed to do more.

We pulled into the parking lot and she waited like a good girl until I could help her out of the truck. “We’ll go talk to Mr. Murray and see if he remembers what room she’s in,” Eloise told me. “He’s the owner. He’s kinda mean, but he doesn’t bother us as long as we pay up front and leave on time.”

Oh. That was a good idea. I’d been fully prepared to beat on every door until she answered.

***

Allyson

I was the sickest I’d even been in my entire life. Shivers shook my body so hard that my teeth rattled together. Every muscle in my body hurt and I was thirsty, but every sip I took came back up. Worse than all that, guilt also sat in my tummy like a rock. I’d let my friends down by not being able to work. They’d beenso wonderful to me and I hadn’t been able to do my part to help them.

Fear that they wouldn’t like me because I hadn’t been helpful haunted me, kept my brain spinning around in circles. I was terrified of being a burden and of not being wanted. I’d been placed in foster care when I was just four years old. My mom died of a brain aneurysm and I didn’t have any other family. The next fourteen years of my life I’d spent being the best girl I could be. I never argued, never got into any trouble, and was a star student. My foster parents had often talked about what a good egg I was, but in the end that hadn’t been enough for them to keep me. Because of that trauma, I worked very hard to earn my place in people's lives. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I was too scared to stop.

A particularly sharp pain in my head made me cry out and I grabbed my head, desperately wishing for sleep.

Worry that I needed to pay Mr. Murray some more money was another thing keeping me awake. I’d only paid for a few hours, but I didn’t think I would be able to make it back to the shelter at 7 pm, or even be around the other women as sick as I was, but I didn’t have the energy to pick up my cell and call the front office. I definitely didn’t want to get on his bad side, though, he was so mean.

A knock on the door startled me and I jumped. Immediately my muscles protested in agony. Fuck, what if it was Mr. Murray?

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