Page 41 of Daddy Defender
My jaw clenches, the coffee forgotten.
Mercenaries… cartel-backed.
This isn’t just Vince being a possessive asshole—this is him playing for keeps. He knows Bodie’s a loose end, someone the feds could lean on to unravel his whole operation.
Fake surf comps, sponsorships—he told me enough to know he’s got dirt, even if he’s still holding back. Vince’s not taking chances, and these mercs won’t hesitate to put a bullet in him to keep him quiet. Because Vince knows that if he thinks Bodie is a threat to him, suddenly Vince becomes a threat to the cartel. My guess is that Vince’s covering his own ass here as much as anything else.
My blood runs cold, thinking of that black truck parked by his van, the shooters…
They’re closing in, and this shack’s only safe until they find it.
I glance at Bodie, still playing, oblivious to the storm brewing. My Daddy instincts scream to scoop him up, lock him down, set rules so tight he can’t blink without my say-so.
But this is different.
Bodieis different.
He’s the boy who’s got me imagining a future I’ve got no right to want. I need to tell him something, enough to keep him sharp without scaring his Little side into a spiral.
But first, I need to lock this place down.
I step toward the living area, my boots heavy on the creaky floor.
“Bodie,” I say, my voice firm and clear, Daddy mode kicking in hard. “Put the stuffies down. We need to talk.”
Bodie freezes, his hands mid-air with Billy, his pout flaring as he looks up.
“What now, Bossy?” Bodie says, all sass, but there’s a flicker of worry in his blue eyes. “I’m just playing. Not breaking your precious rules.”
“You’re distracting me,” I snap, harsher than I intended, the weight of Cole’s message making my patience thin. “This isn’t a game, Bodie. You’re prancing around with your stuffies while I’m trying to keep us alive. Stow it, now.”
Bodie’s face falls, the joy draining out, and my gut twists.
Damn it, I didn’t mean to crush his Little side, but the stakes are too high for him to be goofing off.
Bodie sits up, clutching Poot and Billy, his pout trembling like he’s fighting tears.
“I’m not prancing,” Bodie mutters, his voice small but edged with defiance. “I’m just… trying to feel normal for five seconds. You don’t get it. How could you?”
I step closer, towering over him, my hands on my hips.
“I get it, Little One,” I say, softening my tone but keeping it firm. “You need your safe space, and I’m not taking that away. But right now, normal is simply a luxury we don’t have. Vince’s got people after you—bad people. We need to be ready, not playing surf contests with cushions.”
Bodie’s eyes widen, fear creeping in, but his stubborn streak holds. He scrambles to his feet, Poot and Billy under one arm, his other hand balled into a fist.
“Don’t lecture me like I’m some baby!” Bodie snaps, stepping toward me, his voice rising. “I know Vince’s bad news.Jeez. I lived with him, remember? I’m not stupid, Henry, so stop treating me like I am!”
He’s close now, his freckled nose inches from mine, his breath hitching with anger.
I can see the fire in Bodie’s eyes, that mix of fear and fight that makes him so damn infuriating and irresistible. My Daddy side wants to pull him over my knee for the attitude, but there’s something else—a heat sparking between us, electric and dangerous.
Before I can process the moment, Bodie’s lips part, like he’s got more to say, and I’m ready to shut him down, to set a boundary he won’t cross.
But then it happens.
I don’t know who moves first—him or me—but suddenly his lips are on mine, fierce and hungry, his hands grabbing my shirt like he’s locking in all the way.
My arms wrap around the boy, pulling him close, my mouth claiming his with a need I didn’t know was there. He tastes like grape soda and heaven, his body tight against my chest, and for a moment, the world—Vince, the cartel, the Guard—disappears.
