Page 32 of Daddy's Little Convict
He gently took her thumb from her mouth when she tried to suck it, and eventually, she fell asleep in his arms without it. She had the cutest, softest, little snore.
The likelihood of this becoming a relationship was so unbelievably slim. Nothing that he had seen from her tonight was her in her normal state. Eventually, she was going to recover and when she did, she would be back in a good place from which to tackle what happened to her.
Tomorrow morning, he was going to arrest his brother. He would contact the proper authorities and begin the process of investigating his activities. He would help her give her statement. He would help to keep her safe while he ran down everyone responsible for the abuse she’d suffered.
And he hadn’t one time abused the power of his occupation.
Little Tabitha whimpered, turning her face into his chest.
“Shh,” he whispered, stroking her back. “Daddy’s here. You’re safe.”
He would do everything he could to make sure she stayed that way, too.
He held her far longer than he should have, the Daddy side of him basking in the warmth of her care until it became overwhelmingly obvious that he was dragging out the inevitable. He was just hurting himself at this point. It was hard, but he needed to stay professional, not just because it was the right thing to do, but because he had just as much of a chance that she would wake up tomorrow appalled by tonight’s behavior.
It would be a dream if she woke up in an adult headspace but ready to talk openly about her Littlehood. If she even knew what it was.
He could guide her, if she was open to it. He wouldn’t keep his hopes up, though, and he wouldn’t push her towards something she wasn’t yet ready to explore.
From the dresser where he’d put it, along with everything else on his utility belt, his cell phone rang, and although he hurried to answer it on the second ring, he was a little surprised that it didn’t wake her. He shouldn’t be, he supposed. She was exhausted.
“Yeah,” he said in a soft voice, glancing back over his shoulder to the bed where she didn’t even move. “Gideon, did you catch him?”
“Ah, I lost him about three miles out of town, up around the old mines.”
Fuck.
Jeff glared out the open window. “Keep your eyes peeled. If you find him, I want him arres—”
A flash of light from the yard well beyond the open window caught his eye.
“Are you in my yard?” he asked.
“No,” his deputy cautiously replied. “Why?”
The window glass exploded into the room, and as he both dropped his phone and himself flat to the carpet, Jeff both heard and felt the bullet that whipped past his ear.
Shit.
Travis.
Chapter 9
Tabitha jerked awake, still feeling the comforting echo of Jeff’s arms around her even as the room exploded like a warzone. Glass went everywhere as a series of bullets shot out the window and peppered the door and wall.
She screamed, a reaction so unbelievably stupid that even as she did it, her brain screamed back inside her,Get off the stupid bed before you get shot.
She never got the chance to obey that command. In the next second, Jeff, who had dropped to the floor and army crawled around her side of the bed, grabbed her and hauled her off onto the floor. She was scrambling with him as they took cover behind the bed.
He used his body to shield her. The muscular heat of him, the scent of his body and the woodsy spice of his deodorant surrounded her. So did the hail of bullets, and one would think that would have taken up more of her awareness, but no.
"Daddy," she squeaked, and he hugged her tighter.
The shooting abruptly stopped. The world was eerily silent, then, through the broken window, Tabby heardhisvoice.
"Are you still alive, brother?"
Travis.
