Page 76 of Daddy Defender
Bodie’s across from me, his hair glowing in the light, his romper swapped for one of my tees, the hem brushing his thighs.
He’s nibbling a slice of toast, Poot and Billy as always propped beside his plate, their googly eyes watching me like they know I’m carrying something heavy.
My coffee’s gone cold, my fingers tracing the mug’s rim, and I can’t shake the weight in my chest—not from Vince, not from the cartel, but from Hicks, my lost teammate, his death a wound that won’t fully heal.
Bodie’s blue eyes flick up, catching mine, reading me like an open book.
“Daddy, you’re all quiet,” Bodie says, his voice gentle, a hint of worry creasing his brow. “What’s wrong? Is it your arm?”
I shake my head, forcing a half-smile, but it doesn’t stick.
My Daddy side wants to shield him, keep him in that Little Space bubble where he’s safe, but he’s more than that—smart, empathetic, seeing through my walls.
I owe him the truth.
“Not my arm, darling boy,” I say, my voice low, rough. “Just… thinking about an old mission. You know, Hicks. No matter how hard I try, the pain’s still there, like a knife that I can’t pull out.”
Bodie pauses mid-bite, and he sets his toast down, leaning forward, his hands folding around Billy.
“Tell me, Daddy,” Bodie says, his tone soft but firm, no trace of judgment. “Tell me what happened to Hicks. All of it. Thewholestory.”
I exhale, scrubbing my scar, the memory of that jungle op flooding back.
“It’s heavy,” I start, my voice tight. “Me, Cole, Raze. Great squad on the ground, you’ve seen that for yourself. Hicks was our chopper pilot, a vet who’d been there, done it, got the blood-splattered t-shirt it. Job was supposed to be clean—in, out, gone. We got the girl, made it to the extraction point, but the cartel hit us hard. Blew Hicks and the chopper to hell. We trekked three days to safety, saved the girl, but Hicks… I keep thinking I could’ve done something. I’m supposed to be an expert, elite. You know? Why didn’t we move faster, why didn’t I see the ambush coming? But I didn’t. Hicks is gone, and I’m still here. He’s left family behind. My heart breaks for them, truly. I…”
My voice cracks, and I look away, the guilt a fist in my gut. I’ve never said it out loud, not to Cole, not to Connor, but with Bodie, it spills, raw and real.
Bodie’s eyes don’t flinch, just hold mine, steady as a lighthouse.
“Daddy,” Bodie says, sliding his chair closer, his small hand covering mine, warm and sure. “You didn’t kill Hicks. The cartel did. You saved that girl, helped to get the team out. Hicks knew the risks, same as you. He’d be proud, I bet, knowing you finished the job.” His voice softens, his Little side peeking through. “You’re so strong, carrying this, but you don’t have to carry it alone. I’m here. You’re a good Daddy, a good Guard, always trying to do right. Forgive yourself, even just a little, for me? And maybe one day it won’t feel so bad. Maybe one day you’ll see what an incredible man you are.”
Bodie’s words hit like a wave, gentle but deep, washing over the guilt. He’s smart, seeing the man behind the gruff exterior, the Daddy behind the soldier, and his empathy—his pure heart—cracks something in me.
My feelings for Bodie, already fierce, grow stronger, irresistible.
I squeeze Bodie’s hand, my thumb brushing his knuckles.
“You’re too wise for your own good, Little One,” I say, my voice low and rumbling. “I’ll never fully let it go, but with you… I can see myself trying. You make me want to be better, Bodie.”
He beams, his Little side glowing, and leans over, kissing my cheek, his lips soft and quick.
“That’s my Daddy,” Bodie says, giggling, his eyes sparkling. “Now eat your toast before Billy steals it.”
The boy nudges his stuffy, making his sunglasses wobble, and I laugh, the weight lifting, not gone but lighter.
We finish breakfast, his chatter about surfboards and stuffie adventures filling the air, and I feel it—a shift.
Bodie’s not just my Little… he’s my anchor, grounding me in a way I never thought possible. I’ll always be a Night Ops Guard, but with him, I can bemore.
And speaking of more… I owe him a promise.
“Ready for the beach, ninja surfer?” I ask, standing, my tone playful. “You’re surfing for me today, showing off that freedom of yours. And then…” I pause, smirking. “It’s my turn.”
His eyes widen, his toast dropping.
“You’re really gonna surf, Daddy?” Bodie squeals, bouncing in his seat, his Little side over the moon. “Like, for real-real?”
“Pinky swore, didn’t I?” I say, holding out my pinky. He hooks his with mine, grinning like he’s won the lottery, and my heart clenches. This boy—he’s everything.
