Page 5 of Daddy Defender
Pretty quickly I figured that I was never going to stay in any one place for too long. I became adept at making friends quickly at every new school—and I also became pretty damn good at spotting who the bullies and assholes were too.
I’ve never been someone to back down from a fight, and that’s always been the case. One thing I hated more than anything was arriving at a new school and seeing the jocks or older kids targeting one of the dorkier kids and making their lives a misery. No, that wasnevergoing to fly.
So I learned how to step in and make myself the target when required. Sure, I got plenty of shit for that. But it was always worth it to see a bully with a bloody nose, or worse…
Anyway. That was then. And this is now.
One beer down and with another on the way, and I’m thinking that I sink another two or three and then head back to myplace. It’s not much, but it’s a little cottage by the beach that I use when I’m on leave. And having spent arguably the best six months of my childhood in Sunny Ferns, I was always going to head back and make a little base for myself here when I had enough money.
I’m not exactly a millionaire, but the Guard pays enough money for me to have saved enough for a humble abode. Some guys love to hit the casinos after a mission, but that’s never been my thing. Again, I guess you could say it’s all about being in control for me—you might even say that control is my love language.
I’m a Daddy, that’s for sure.
Except, of course, I’m missing the one thing that a Daddy really needs to feel complete. And that’s a boy to call his own. Still, maybe it’s for the best. I don’t want to complicate things too much right now. I know that each and every time I go for a mission I’m putting my life at risk. Most of the boys I’ve met are way too conservative and traditional to even consider being with a man like that.
I don’t blame them either.
To be honest, I sometimes wonder if I’m crazy for being a Guard in the first place.
Therehavebeen Littles in the past. Sweet boys. The kind of boy who would say that they were cool with me doing what I do, but then when the reality hit it was a whole other thing. I soon came to realize that these rebellious boys liked talking a good game but when it came to the everyday reality of dating a Daddy like me, it was something else entirely.
“Thanks,” I say, taking my fresh beer from the bartender. “I need this.”
“Damn, don’t we all,” the bartender replies, a rueful smile on his face as he picks up my scrunched up bills from the bar and goes about his business.
“Now wait a minute…” I mutter, my eyes suddenly drawn to the boy sitting over in the corner booth. “He’s a hot one.”
I allow myself a wry smile as I watch the boy sip on his beer. He’s cute, but has this whole surfer vibe going on. I like it.
“Now that’s not good,” I say, quickly picking up on the fact that the boy in question is looking uneasy—and that’s putting it mildly. “That’s not good at all.”
I’m going to keep an eye on him.
It could be nothing. Or it might just be something.
Either way, this Daddy ain’t leaving a single thing to chance…
I lean back against the bar, the cold beer sweating in my hand, my eyes locked on the boy in the corner booth.
“Hmm,” I ponder. “If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck…”
He’s trying hard to look like he belongs, but every fidget, every glance toward the door screams he’s running from something—or someone.
His denim jacket’s too big for his frame, like he’s hiding in it, and those sunglasses perched on his head aren’t foolinganyone.
Least of all me. I’ve seen fear before.
Hell, I’vefeltit, deep in my bones, on missions that should’ve been my last.
My mind drifts back to that damn jungle op six weeks ago. The one that nearly broke us all. Cole, Raze, and me, sent to pull a politician’s daughter from a cartel’s grip.
Clean job, they said. In and out.
Yeah, right…
The helicopter’s blades thrummed like a war drum, cutting through the humid night air over the Colombian jungle. Cole, strapped in beside me, checked his rifle, his jaw tight.
“This cartel’s got more firepower than Intel said,” Cole muttered, his voice thick with suspicion.
