His Babygirl

by Jane Henry

  “Maybe Slay’s trying to protect you, Nor. I mean, if you go to the police, that puts you on Salazar’s radar again, right? Right now, you’re a blip. A mistake. But if you go poking around…”

  Nora rubbed her forehead and sighed in frustration. “But that’s my decision,” she argued. “And believe me, I would choose to go to the police, especially after what I saw today.”

  A feeling of dread had Alice crossing over to sit on the bed beside Nora.

  “What happened?” Alice demanded.

  “I went to P&B to pick up Charlie from his drawing lesson. Mrs. O’Gara’s room is in the basement, you know?”

  Alice nodded.

  “I went in the front door of the school, but I went down the stairs on the right side of the building, mostly because the sun was setting and it always looks so pretty with the trees over there? Anyway, when I looked out…” Nora swallowed and knitted her hands together in her lap. “I saw Mindy Freeman sitting in her Suburban in the side parking lot.”

  Alice nodded in confusion. “Well, right. Her Fiona is in the same drawing class with Charlie, so she—”

  “And Chalo Salazar was sitting in the passenger’s seat beside her. She did not look pleased.”

  Alice blinked once, then twice. She didn’t want to accuse Nora of falsehood, but this was simply too fantastical to be believed. Mindy Freeman was a bitch of the first water, and if Nora had seen her tripping someone in the hallway or kicking a puppy or cheating on her husband with the gym teacher, Alice would have believed it in a heartbeat. But meeting with a drug kingpin, in her SUV, parked in the lot of a prestigious private school, while waiting for her kid to get out of art class? Mindy wouldn’t let anyone touch her car unless their pedigree checked out, let alone sit inside it.

  “How sure are you about this?” Alice asked gently.

  “Very, very sure,” Nora said. “I would recognize those faces anywhere. I see them every night when I close my eyes.”

  “Faces?” Alice echoed.

  Nora nodded. “Diego was standing outside the car. Acting as bodyguard.”

  Alice licked her lips, tasting the stupid gloss that Tess had smeared there. “Okay. Okay, right. When Slay gets here, you have to tell him.”

  “I don’t know,” Nora said dubiously.

  “Nora, he’ll believe you,” Alice said. “He likes you. And he’ll look into it and help us get the police involved.”

  “I know he’ll believe me, Al,” Nora scoffed. “I have photographic evidence.”

  “You what?”

  “I took a picture with my phone,” Nora said smugly. “See for yourself.”

  Nora took out her cell phone and flipped it toward Alice. Sure enough, the image showed a man who looked remarkably like the one who had brought Nora home all those weeks ago standing outside Mindy’s gold-colored SUV, while a very pissed-off Mindy sat inside chatting with an older Hispanic man. And in the background were the distinctive ivy-colored red brick walls of Charlie’s school.

  “My God,” Alice breathed. “At Pevrell and Brahms.”

  “It’s a different issue when it hits closer to home, isn’t it?” Nora said, not unkindly.

  Alice gaped at her.

  It was different. It really, really was. She wanted Chalo Salazar on a different planet from her kid, but at the very least to believe he’d never heard of Charlie’s school. And what the hell was he doing with Mindy?

  “So, yeah, I know Slay will believe me,” Nora repeated glumly. “I’m just not sure he’ll do the right thing, even when he knows.”

  The doorbell rang, but Alice sat frozen on the bed, Nora’s phone in her hand. Nora stood and said, “I’ll get it.”

  When she heard Slay greeting Charlie and heading down the hall, Alice stood mechanically and swallowed.

  Keep it together, Cavanaugh.

  Of course Slay would do the right thing here. He was a good man. Her daddy. She trusted him not only to do what was best for her, but what was right and moral. Recognizing the truth of that let the constriction in her chest ease so that she could draw a deep breath.

  Slay appeared in her bedroom a moment later, wearing jeans and a light green button-down shirt with his leather jacket. When he spotted her, his caramel eyes widened almost comically before lowering to a half-masted smolder. It was a really good look on him.

  “Oh, Allie-girl,” he breathed. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  Alice looked down, so distracted that she was almost surprised to find herself wearing the red dress. She smiled hesitantly. “I borrowed it from Heidi. Do you like it?”

  “Baby, I love it,” he told her, coming forward to wrap his arms around her waist. “You look fucking amazing.” He lowered his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck. “Now hurry up and change so we can get going.”

  Alice giggled. The dress scored three out of three when it came to turning a dom into a caveman.

  But she put one restraining hand on Slay’s chest. “Daddy, I really need to talk to you first, okay? It’s important.”

  Slay stepped back so he could meet her eyes squarely, while keeping his hands on her hips. “Of course. What do you need, baby?” he asked.

  Alice took a deep breath. See? she told herself. This is all going to be fine.

  “Well, Nora saw something today at Charlie’s school that really upset her,” Alice began. “She came to me for advice. A-and I think she should go to the police about it.”

  Slay frowned. “Shit. Something with one of the teachers?” he asked. The concern in his eyes made Alice’s heart melt for him just a little bit more.

  “No. One of the parents,” Alice corrected. “She saw Mindy Freeman sitting in a car with, um, Chalo Salazar.”

  Slay’s whole face closed off, like a switch had been flipped. It was the most bizarre thing. One minute he was right there with her, they were a team, and then suddenly he’d erected a wall between them. Even his eyes were cooler now, and his jaw was set.

  “That’s crazy,” he told her flatly. But the instantaneous denial, coupled with his complete withdrawal, told her that it was anything but crazy. And Slay knew it.

  “She has proof,” Alice whispered, gesturing to the cell phone she still held in her hand.

  “Jesus,” Slay muttered, releasing her and stepping back. “Show me.”

  Reluctantly, Alice handed over the cell phone, where the image of Diego standing outside of a car, with Salazar in the front seat, was still displayed in high-resolution. She heard him expel a breath.

  “This could be anyone,” he declared. “All I see is a dark-haired guy standing outside a car, and an older, heavier guy sitting inside it. Nora needs to stop spooking at shadows.”

  And then he moved his finger to delete the picture, along with the ones before and after it.

  “Slay! What are you doing?” Alice demanded, grabbing at his arm. “Those are Nora’s!”

  “They’re trouble, that’s what they are,” he informed her. He held the cell phone out of her reach, his eyes bright with temper. “Nora needs to keep her head down, to focus on graduating high school and taking her college classes. You got me? And I don’t want you encouraging her in her wild goose chase.”

  “But that’s her choice to make, isn’t it?” Alice asked desperately. “Slay, if she wants to go to the police, we should be supporting her, not—”

  “Alice, I have my reasons and I can’t share them with you right now. I’ve given you my decision about this and it’s final,” he said sternly. “I’m going to go have a word with Nora, but you and I are not discussing this again. Now, find a dress that’s not going to get me in a bar fight or a car accident, okay, baby?” And the man had the gall to attempt a smile.

  Alice felt her chin drop.

  “Are you kidding? Slay, I’m not going anywhere until you’ve explained things,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “You’re telling me to trust you, but you have to give me more information. That was a picture of Diego and Ch
alo Salazar. If I wasn’t sure of it before, I became sure the second you deleted it from Nora’s phone without her permission.”

  Slay’s jaw locked. “I said we are not getting into this, Allie.”

  Arrogant man! They were already in it! And he was making it a hundred times worse by treating her like a child who wasn’t entitled to an explanation!

  “Nora said that you told Tony not to have her file a police report after she was abducted,” Alice whispered. “Is that true? Why would you do that? Just tell me, please! I want to follow your lead, Slay. I want so badly to trust you here…”

  Slay laughed without humor and ran a hand over his face. “Do you know what trust means, baby?” he asked in a heated whisper. “Trust means that if I say ‘Alice, we’re not talking about this right now,’ you say ‘Okay,’ ” he told her. “Following my lead means that if I say, ‘This is dangerous, you need to stop,’ then you fucking stop. You don’t make me have a goddamn fucking debate with you about all the reasons why I think you need to stop, and why you think you don’t need to stop, and whatever the fuck else. That’s what obedience is. That’s what submission is. I told you I can’t discuss this. Can’t, Allie, not won’t. You need to accept that and move on.”

  “Well, how about if you tell me what dominance is then,” Alice retorted stung by his words and angered by the impatience in his tone. Did he think that trust came that easily? Just snap her fingers and poof? “It doesn’t mean you get to just lay down the law, like I’m a person without judgment or feelings. We’re supposed to be a team, not—”

  “It’s about protection, Allie. For me, dominance is always about protection.”

  Because she knew that was true, because she knew that he was somehow misguidedly trying to keep her and Nora and Diego and everyone safe right now, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reining in her temper.

  “Slay, honey,” she said. “This isn’t about protecting me, it’s about Nora, and helping her get justice after everything she’s gone through. Please, just try—”

  He cut her off with single firm shake of his head. “Allie, I’m already trying. Trying to protect you, to support you, to have your back. Have you tried to trust me?”

  It always came back to this, didn’t it? Can’t and won’t was an important distinction when it came to what he’d discuss with her, but apparently not when it came to trusting him. The double standard rankled. He insisted that trust was a choice, and maybe that was true, but she was finding that it wasn’t an easy choice. Not for her. And he didn’t seem to get it.

  “I am trying right now,” she whispered. “I wish you could see that. But the decision you’re making here involves a lot of people, and you’re not even taking their wishes into consideration. I don’t know how I could begin to justify that to Nora.”

  “Alice, listen to yourself.” Slay lifted one hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “If Nora has a problem with me, she can come to me. You don’t have to justify my decisions to Nora or anyone. You submit to me. No one else gets a vote in this, no one else’s opinion matters. They think I’m an asshole? Fine. I don’t give a shit. You shouldn’t give a shit either. You follow my lead because you know it’s the right thing to do, and you don’t need to convince anyone else.”

  “I want to submit. I just wanted an explanation about this one little thing,” she said in a small voice.

  “Nah, Allie. You’re not looking for an explanation; you’re looking for an excuse. A reason to guard yourself from me. And, baby, if you look for an excuse, you’ll always find one.” Slay crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her sternly. “It all comes down to this: Do you trust me, Alice?”

  Alice pressed her lips together and stared at him… at Slay, at her daddy. His caramel eyes were molten hot, his posture rigid, and any idiot could see with one glance that he meant what he said –he would not budge on this, and he would not discuss it. And the entirety of the choices available to her right now seemed to be going along with him, even when she thought he was wrong, or ending things entirely, an idea that, even though they’d been together for such a short time, made her chest constrict so tightly she couldn’t breathe.

  Was this submission? she wondered bitterly. Still, she had to tell the truth.

  “Yeah,” she said sullenly. Because she did trust Slay. She trusted him with her life and with Charlie’s. She trusted him to protect everyone she loved. She just wished that he would trust her with a little more information. And it hurt that he couldn’t see that.

  “You’ll wanna watch your tone,” he warned. “I am on the edge right now, little girl.”

  She inhaled sharply and clenched her fists together, for the first time feeling like a little girl in a way that was not remotely pleasant. Slay wasn’t the only one on the edge.

  God, this was hard.

  “I trust you,” she ground out.

  He nodded once, and she could swear she saw something like relief flit across his face before he hardened his jaw again. The thought crossed her mind that maybe this wasn’t as easy for him as it seemed, either. She filed that away to think about later.

  “So I’m going to say this exactly one more time, Allie, before I lock this door and haul you over my lap. Go get changed.”

  She took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said with narrowed eyes. “I’ll change.”

  She spun around to face her closet, but his silky voice had her stopping in her tracks.

  “Pardon?” he said. “Is that how you speak to me?”

  Oh, he was not gonna push this right now, was he? When he’d already won? She turned around to face him, incredulous, and felt hot tears come to her eyes.

  “What do you call me, Alice?” he pressed softly, seriously, like the answer was vitally important to him.

  So many names were coming to mind right now, names that would get her ass whipped if she spoke even the first syllable aloud, and she could tell by the glint in his eye that he knew it, too.

  He stalked toward her and wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, tilting her face back so that she could look up, up, up at him as he towered over her. Then he lowered his head until their breath was mingling and their lips just barely touching.

  “Tell me, Allie,” his voice a low purr against her skin. “What do you call me?”

  She swallowed hard, her heart beating a mile a minute, her breath stuck in her throat. She had good reasons to be angry. Very good reasons. But they seemed to burn off temporarily under the wave of excitement that swamped her.

  “D-daddy,” she said softly. “I call you Daddy.”

  He leaned fractionally closer and took her bottom lip firmly between his teeth. She felt her core go liquid. God, this man.

  “That’s right, baby. You do.” He squeezed her hip with his free hand. “And I swear to God, Allie, I will do whatever I have to do so that you never regret calling me that,” he told her. His hand moved from her hip, down the short skirt of her dress to flirt with the hem. “I get you find this shit hard for whatever reason, but you did the right thing today, baby. Trust your man, yeah? Simple as that.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” she agreed, her attention focused on his fingers as they trailed up her thigh beneath her skirt to toy with the lace-edged silk of her panties.

  She noted that Slay was breathing hard, too, and his eyes, as they stared into hers, were unfocused. He stepped back sharply.

  “Get changed, Allie-girl,” he said, his voice choked and husky. “Now. Or this will be the shortest date in history, and we won’t ever leave the house.”

  And despite everything, Alice giggled. The dress was working its magic again.

  Chapter 8

  Slay usually was pretty damn good at handling tension, challenging situations, high intensity. As a Marine, he'd dedicated his fucking life to protecting others first. Duty to country trumped all else. He'd pulled brothers out of burning buildings overseas, and once saved a drowning man from a riptide in the ocean, hauling his ass to safety. He command
ed the men under him, and always reminded them of the motto that fueled the blood of every brother in his battalion.

  Death before dishonor.

  He'd fight to the death to protect the innocent. From a very young age, he’d accepted the fact that he'd been gifted with an exceptionally strong body, razor-sharp instincts, and tenacious self control. When he'd grown of age, it was only natural he join the Marines and devote his life to the most dangerous missions any man in uniform faced. He could still recite the decades-old lines he'd learned when promoted to drill sergeant.

  I will train them to the best of my ability. I will develop them into smartly disciplined, physically fit, basically trained Marines, thoroughly indoctrinated in love of Corps and country. I will demand of them, and demonstrate by my own example, the highest standards of personal conduct, morality, and professional skill.

  Demonstrate by my own example…

  The words rang through his mind when he went to bed at night and when he rose. It was his creed. His motto. His prayer.

  Answering the call of duty to his country and military brothers was instinctive as breathing, and it was a natural progression to become a bouncer at Club Black Box. He was a dominant, after all, comfortable only when those in command under him obeyed his commands, reveling in the control he craved. But when it became clear to him that Black Box wasn't interested in enforcing consensual dom-sub play, when their lax rules had led to Hillary being abused by a psychopath masquerading as a dominant, he'd left in favor of the cleaner, more respectable play at The Club.

  All his life, he'd faced fear head on, and expected those in command under him to do the same. His women had been no exception. He’d had good reasons for why he'd taken so fucking long to pursue Alice. He couldn't handle a submissive who was in it for roleplay or kink. The power exchange was a vital element to him. He needed to be obeyed.

  “Where are we going, Daddy?” Alice asked, running her hands along her thighs, clad in the leggings he'd picked out for her. She'd been reluctant to take the dress off. He'd helped her see it was worthwhile removing her clothing when he commanded it. She'd finally emerged from her room, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, wearing black leggings and a fitted, tunic-length sweater in a blue-gray that accentuated her golden hair and blue eyes. She looked gorgeous.