Page 51 of Daddy Defender
“Vince… he didn’t just threaten to find me,” I say, my throat tight. “He said he’d expose me. My Little side. Said he’d tell everyone—my surf crew, the comp organizers, anyone who’d listen—that I’m a freak. That I’m not a real surfer, just a kid playing pretend with my stuffies and rompers.” My voice cracks, tears spilling now, and I hide my face against Poot. “He knew how much it’d hurt me… how much I need that part of me to feel safe. He used it to keep me trapped. And I hate him for that. Even worse than what he’s doing now.”
Henry’s grip on my hand tightens, his jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle twitch.
“Vince’s the lowest of the low,” Henry growls, his voice low and dangerous, like he’s ready to tear the man apart. “He’s a coward who preys on what makes you special, Bodie. He’ll pay for what he’s done to you, I swear it. But he’s not touching you, not your Little side, not anything. You’re mine to protect now.”
Henry’s words hit like a wave, warm and fierce, and I feel it—the trust growing, deeper than before, like a knot in my chest unraveling.
I sniffle, wiping my eyes on Poot’s fur, and lean into Henry, his arm wrapping around me as he drives.
“Thanks, Daddy,” I whisper, the word slipping out again, soft and real, and I don’t blush this time. It feels right, like it belongs to him, and his low hum of approval makes my Little side glow despite the fear still buzzing in my veins.
“We’re heading back to the safehouse,” Henry says, his voice calmer now, but still firm, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to check for tails. “We’ll lay low, regroup. And we’re expecting guests later.”
I blink, sitting up a bit, curiosity cutting through my panic.
“Guests?” I ask, my voice still wobbly but intrigued. “Who? Cole? Someone else from your super-secret spy club?”
I tilt my head, clutching Billy, my Little side perking up at the mystery.
Henry chuckles, the sound rough but warm, and he ruffles my hair, his hand lingering.
“You’ll have to wait and see, babyboy,” Henry says, a teasing glint in his eyes. “No spoilers. But they’re good people, and they’re here to help. Now, buckle up and keep those stuffies close. We’ve got a safehouse to get to.”
I pout but my heart’s lighter, his teasing pulling me out of the dark.
“Bossypants strikes again,” I mutter, buckling my seatbelt, but I’m smiling, my fingers tracing Billy’s sunglasses as Shred rumbles down the road.
The ocean’s to our right, shimmering under the sun, and I focus on its rhythm, trying to let it calm me like it did last night on the waves.
But Vince’s threat—exposing my Little side—sits heavy, like a stone in my gut. I hate that I have to think about it all again. And I’m realizing that it left a mark on me that won’t be easy to shake off.
I’ve always been open about being a Little, at least with people I trust, but it’s my safe space, my anchor when the world’s too big. Vince knew that, used it to control me, and the thought of him twisting it, making it something to shame me, makes my skin crawl.
I glance at Henry, his profile strong, his scar catching the light, and I feel a flicker of hope. He didn’t flinch when I told him, didn’t judge. He called me special, promised to protect me, and that’s more than Vince ever did.
Before I know it, the safehouse comes into view, tucked behind dunes, its weathered walls blending with the beach. Henry pulls Shred under the tarp, killing the engine, and turns to me, his hand resting on my knee.
“You okay, Bodie?” Henry asks, his voice soft but serious, his dark eyes searching mine. “It’s okay, you can tell Daddy.”
I nod, clutching Poot and Billy, my voice small but honest.
“Yeah. Scared, but… better. Because of you, Daddy,” I meet his gaze, my Little side leaning into his strength, and his slow nod feels like a vow.
“Good boy,” Henry says, the words wrapping around me like a blanket, and I smile, my heart doing that stupid flip again.
Henry climbs out, coming around to open my door, and I hop down, his hand steadying me as we head inside. The shack’s cool, the ocean’s hum filtering through, and I set my stuffies on the couch, feeling a little more like myself.
“Whoarethese guests, though?” I ask, plopping onto the couch, kicking my legs. “Come on, Daddy, give me a hint!”
I bat my lashes, going full Little, hoping to crack his bossy shell.
Henry laughs, shaking his head as he locks the door, his boots heavy on the floor.
“Nice try, Little One,” he says, pointing at me, mock-stern. “You’ll find out soon enough. Now, help me check the windows. We’re locking this place down until they get here.”
I huff, but I’m grinning, his Daddy vibe pulling me along.
As we move through the shack, securing it, I steal glances at him—his focus, his strength, the way he makes me feel safe even with Vince’s goons circling.
