Possessive Daddy: A Dark Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  The man fired and I saw blood spray from Gates’s arm. Gates smashed into the man, grabbing his gun arm and wrenching it back. The man dropped the gun as they fought viciously.

  Gates’s opponent was tall and slim but he looked mean. He snapped out at Gates with deadly punches which Gates seemed to easily block and dodge. Gates was a deadly god, and although there was blood dripping down his right arm, he was forcing the man back.

  Gates landed a square punch to the man’s jaw. His head snapped back as Gates moved forward, slamming him against the wall. Gates brought his knee up, smashing into the man’s stomach, and then Gates rammed his skull down against the man’s nose. Blood sprayed out and he screamed.

  Gates smashed his head into him again and again then let the man go. The man dropped to the ground, blood pouring from his battered face.

  He wasn’t moving, but Gates kicked him hard in the throat anyway.

  Gates stood there, surveying the scene. The window was smashed and the door was broken in. One body was bleeding there on the floor, unmoving, and the other was out of sight behind the bed. I assumed he was just as bad off.

  Gates seemed to take a deep breath and suddenly come back to himself. He looked around, blinking for a second, and then stalked over to the bathroom door. He pushed it open.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, completely numb. I couldn’t speak.

  “Get dressed. I’m pulling the truck around.”

  He turned and left the room.

  Tentative, I stepped out of the bathroom. The two men weren’t moving. I checked on the one behind the bed and his face was as smashed to bits as I assumed it would be, or maybe worse.

  I found my clothes and got dressed. I found my money and made sure it was safe in my pocket. I quickly left that room and didn’t look back.

  I’d never experienced violence like that before. Sure, I saw Tony kill those guys, but he shot them. Gates was like a wild animal, fighting against two armed opponents and winning. He fought them hand to hand and killed them both, using his own skull as a weapon.

  Gates was a walking killer. He was a sharpened knife looking for a body to lodge himself into.

  That terrified me.

  I had to remind myself that Gates was on my side, that he killed to save me. Gates killed those men because he had to do it to keep me safe. No other reason. It was my fault that Gates was even involved in this at all.

  He never asked for more violence, and yet he was getting plenty of it. All because of me.

  He was sitting in the truck when I got down the steps. I hopped into the passenger side and he peeled out, tearing onto the main road and driving away.

  We were silent for a while. I didn’t know what to say to him, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to talk. Finally, I looked at him and noticed the blood still dripping down his arm.

  “Gates,” I said. “You’re shot.”

  “It’s fine,” he grunted. “Just winged me.”

  “You’re bleeding. You need a hospital.”

  “No,” he said. “Cops will be looking in the hospitals.”

  “We need to stop the bleeding.”

  “It’s fine. The bullet just scraped me.”

  “Gates. We have to get you help.”

  He suddenly pulled the car over. We were on a lonely farm road out in the middle of nowhere. We pulled off into a field with not another soul in sight. I hadn’t even seen another car since we left the motel.

  “Fine,” he said. He grabbed his shirt and tore a strip from it. “Bandage me.”

  I stared at him and then set my jaw, determined to help. I turned the overhead light on and got a close look at his arm.

  He was right, the bullet hadn’t actually gone into him. It just cut his arm fairly deep. I thought he might need stitches, but I wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. We didn’t have a needle and thread.

  I wrapped the strip of cloth around his arm.

  “Tighter,” he grunted.

  I wrapped it tighter and then tied it off. He nodded, looking out the front windshield.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.”

  “I’m good,” he said, taking a deep breath.

  “Are you sure? That was . . . “

  He looked at me. “It was what?”

  “Difficult to watch.” I looked away, feeling stupid.

  His laughter surprised me. I looked back at him sharply and he grinned. “The violence didn’t bother me,” he said. “I don’t give a fuck about killing some mafia scumbags.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I keep fucking up. I keep putting you in danger.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “They found us twice now. Seems I’m incapable of keeping you safe.”

  “It isn’t your fault. I don’t know how they found us, but I know it wasn’t because of something you did.”

  “We can’t go back,” he said. “We can’t stay anywhere right now. We’re going to have to sleep in the truck.”

  I nodded. “Okay then. We’ll do that.”

  He cracked the windows and killed the engine. “Here’s as good a place as any.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Mafia won’t come back here. These roads aren’t even on maps, let alone GPS.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I lived out here, remember? I used to travel these roads a lot. They’re old farm roads. We’re in the middle of some guy’s soy field, I bet.”

  I looked around and nodded to myself. That made sense and would explain why we hadn’t seen another living person in a while.

  Still, we were out in the open. I felt strange being so exposed.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked him.

  “Like I said, the violence doesn’t bother me. I’m a hammer.”

  “You’re a what?”

  “A hammer. A blunt instrument of destruction.” He shook his head.

  “I don’t think you’re a hammer, Gates.”

  “I am, though. It’s not really a bad thing, though Maron wasn’t happy that I was resigning myself to it.”

  I cocked my head. “Maron. That’s who we’re going to see tomorrow.”

  “He’s my mentor. Well, my old mentor.”

  “Old mentor? What happened?”

  He looked out the window, frowning. “I might as well tell you, I guess.”

  “Gates. No secrets between us.”

  “He didn’t want me to go back to Syria. I did my two tours and I did them very, very well. I was out in the shit longer than any other SEAL in the modern era. Maron thought I deserved a rest.”

  “You didn’t want one?”

  “It’s not who I am. I don’t rest. I keep fighting.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He pulled some strings and made sure I got what I wanted, but not before laying into me. Maron wanted me to become his protégé. He wanted to teach me how to play the game, how to work the system, how to do the politics shit. Maron thought I could do more good behind a desk, working my way up through the ranks. If I could dictate military policy, as he liked to say, then I could save way more people than I could out in the field.”

  “He wanted you to calm down.”

  “I can’t calm down. He didn’t realize that at the time. Maybe he realizes it now.”

  “He just wanted what he thought was best for you.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Unfortunately for him, I’m the only one that chooses what’s best for me.”

  “So you left things bad between you?”

  “Not great, at least. I haven’t spoken to him since coming home. I never planned on speaking to him again if I could help it.”

  “And yet we’re going there.”

  He nodded. “That’s right.”

  I stared at him, at a loss for words. Gates was willing to do something he promised himself he’d never do again, all for my sake. I didn’t know what to say. It was the nicest
thing anyone had done for me, and I didn’t understand how I even began to deserve it.

  “Get some sleep,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ll keep watch.”

  “Let me stay up. Did you even sleep last night?”

  “I can go a few days without sleep. You rest.”

  I sighed and pushed my seat back. He smiled at me. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

  “I know,” I answered. “I have you.”

  “That’s right.”

  I was afraid to go to sleep, but exhaustion was pulling me down. I figured I’d at least rest my eyes for a little while until I relieved Gates and took over watch duty. He needed to be sharper than I did, and he needed sleep to do that.

  Violence, terror, and intrigue. I had no clue how the mafia had found us, but they did and now we were sleeping in some strange truck in some strange field. Hopefully, we’d get to see a man I didn’t know who apparently was angry with Gates for things that had happened in the past. Who knew what was going to happen with that? Maybe he’d throw us out and we’d be back to where we started.

  Or maybe everything would be okay. Gates did have a way about him. He was competent, he was deadly. He was Gates.

  I heard the soft wind through the grass and wrapped my arms around myself, willing away the darkness, listening to Gates’s soft breathing.

  20

  Gates

  Piper fell asleep almost instantly, and that didn’t surprise me. She’d been through a lot and her body couldn’t exactly handle it. She was going to need sleep if she was going to keep her strength up, and I had a feeling that she was going to need as much strength as she could muster.

  I was impressed that she didn’t fall to pieces after watching me kill those two men. Most civilians would lose their minds at that, but not Piper. She seemed more worried about how I felt about everything.

  If only she understood. Those two men meant nothing to me. They weren’t the first men that I’d killed and likely wouldn’t be the last. I was a warrior, a fighter, a soldier, and that was my way. I lived it and always would live it. I protected the people that I cared about because I didn’t know how to do anything else.

  I didn’t know how to run away.

  That was something Maron didn’t understand. He wanted to work the system from the inside, save lives from that angle. He thought he could save the world if only he could get the right people to listen to him.

  I didn’t have such dreams or delusions. I believed that I could make the most difference down on the ground with my own two hands. It was what they trained me to do. I thought from mission to mission, moment to moment, and didn’t try to influence the big picture. I was a tool of my commanding officers.

  Although I didn’t have commanding officers, not really, not anymore. I was on my way out of the SEALs, and I knew it. I could probably push for another tour if I really wanted, and they’d grant it, but I wouldn’t be put into anymore positions of serious leadership. I did a damn good job in Syria, but new men were moving up in the ranks, and I didn’t have a powerful benefactor anymore.

  My career as a SEAL defined me as a person. It wasn’t just my job. It was my way of life. It was the way I viewed the entire world. Being a SEAL meant I was a certain kind of man and I couldn’t be anything else, even if I wasn’t on active duty anymore.

  Killing those two mafia fuckwads only proved that I still had what it took to fight and win for my country. Not many men could kill two skilled fighters like that, but I was still capable of it. Sure, maybe they managed to injure me, but it was only a flesh wound. It was only temporary. I’d be back on my feet soon, ready to fight another day. Those bastards would never get up again. I made sure of that.

  Piper could never understand how I felt about killing those two men. It made me feel fucking alive to prove to myself that I could still do that sort of thing, that I still had the skills and the strength. It made me crave that battlefield high.

  When I was with Piper, I felt something I never really imagined I’d feel with someone. I couldn’t really explain what it meant for me, but it was entirely different from that war that I craved. It was different, passionate and intense in its own right, but slower, deeper, and tougher. I wanted that, too. I wanted to be the man I’d always been while finding a way to become the man that Piper could make me be.

  I didn’t know how to reconcile those two things. I knew I had two halves but their antagonisms were just coming into focus. On the one side, I was a soldier and a killer. On the other, I was a civilian living a normal life.

  I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know if I could have either one of them. I would always be a soldier, and I’d always be a civilian, or at least as long as Piper was around. Because she was the first person to make me feel like home was actually my home.

  The sun began to stream up over the horizon, peeking with deep reds and purples first before bursting up. I was pulled out of my long meditative thought process and quickly scanned the area, making sure we were still alone.

  Piper slept through the night, which was good. She began to stir next to me, bothered by the coming morning light. I let her sleep for a little bit longer, not wanting to disturb her if I didn’t need to.

  The clock on the radio said that it was getting close to six by the time she finally opened her eyes. She yawned and sat up, looking around. “Shit,” she said.

  “Good morning,” I answered, smiling at her.

  “I fell asleep.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I’m so sorry. Did you get any rest?”

  “Enough.”

  She frowned at me. “That means you didn’t sleep at all, doesn’t it?”

  “It means that I’m well rested and ready to meet the day with open arms.”

  She sighed. I loved how easy it was to frustrate her. “Whatever you say.” She stretched and I watched the line of her body.

  “First thing’s first. We need new clothes.”

  She looked down at herself. “You’re probably right.”

  “I have blood all over mine. I know the Wal-Mart near here opens early, so I need you to go in there and get some stuff. Breakfast too, if you can.”

  She nodded. “Okay, sure. I can shop for you.”

  “No pressure. We just need clothes.”

  “Got it. I’ll make sure to get you a studded leather belt and short shorts.”

  “You couldn’t handle seeing me in short shorts.” I started the engine of the truck and pulled back out onto the road. “You’d lose your mind from lust.”

  “I think I could handle myself.”

  “I doubt it. I have great legs.”

  She laughed as we sped down the highway, back toward town.

  My arm ached, but I was pretty sure the bleeding had stopped. I was going to need stitches as soon as the bandage came off, but I didn’t want to tell Piper that. She was worried enough already without me adding anymore stress to the situation. I was going to survive and that was all that mattered.

  We got to the Wal-Mart maybe fifteen minutes later. It was just opening up, but there were already a bunch of other trucks in the parking lot.

  “Okay,” I said to her as I found a spot. “Get in and get out. Don’t stop no matter what. If anything happens, you run out here as fast as you can. I’ll be ready.”

  “Okay,” she said and opened the door. “Don’t worry. I got this. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s shopping.”

  “What a cliché,” I said, laughing.

  She grinned then slammed the door and stalked toward the Wal-Mart. She was wearing dirty clothing and she hadn’t showered since the fight at the motel, but she looked absolutely gorgeous anyway. I hated sending her in there alone, but I couldn’t go with her. I’d draw too much attention considering the amount of blood on my clothing.

  I leaned back and sighed. This was going to be one fucking stressful morning. Not only did I have to get through this Wal-Mart trip, but I also had to figure out how to make Genera
l Maron listen. I still hadn’t come up with a good plan for that yet. I just hoped that he’d be willing to see me and Piper, and once we were inside, I was sure I could convince him to help.

  I leaned back and shut my eyes. I was exhausted, a deep, bone-shaking kind of exhaustion that I only ever felt out on the battlefield. I was at war in a lot of ways, though I didn’t have a squad to back me up. In this case, it was just me against my enemies.

  Ten minutes passed, and then fifteen. I fingered my gun, itching to get out of the car and get in there. Images of Piper in serious trouble kept coming to me, but I knew I had to resist the urge to do something stupid. She was probably just stuck in line or something, or maybe she was using the bathroom. The chances that the mafia was in there waiting for us were pretty damn slim. Piper could take care of herself.

  I took a deep breath. I hated taking this risk, hated being out of control. Another five minutes passed, and I was practically climbing out of my seat when Piper appeared at the front door. She strolled over to me holding two bags, a smile on her face.

  She hopped into the car. “You okay?” I asked her.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I had to guess your pants size.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  She handed me a pair of jeans and a pack of plain black t-shirts. “Thirty-two waist, right?” she asked.

  “Close enough.”

  “I got a belt too, just in case.”

  “This’ll be good. Thanks, Piper. You did great.”

  “I also got us some breakfast.” She took a loaf of wheat bread from the other bag, a pack of lunchmeat, and some mustard. “Not exactly what I normally have for breakfast, but it’ll do.”

  I quickly got changed. It felt incredible to be wearing fresh underwear, a clean t-shirt, and clean jeans. I tore apart my old shirt to make new bandages, though I didn’t want to risk changing it. The blood had started to soak through, but it wasn’t critical yet.

  Piper got changed into a similar outfit and then made two sandwiches as I drove out toward the base. It should be open and I was betting that General Maron was in. He was a man that liked to get into the office early, since he thought that showed discipline to his staff.