Page 4 of Daddy's Little Survivor

It was a command Monroe found herself following. She tried so hard to focus on his voice as he continued to talk to her, but the longer she struggled to breathe, the harder it was for her to hear.

Everything felt like it was under water, muffled and so far away. The black dots increased across her vision and his muffled voice got drowned out.

Monroe looked at the man, and the last thing she saw was the panic on his face as her eyes rolled back and everything went black.

CHAPTER THREE

MICHAEL

A few minutes earlier

Michael groaned as he turned on his car. Today had been a long day and he couldn’t wait to get home and relax. His body was aching from the hours spent at the clinic followed by a long shift at the club.

He’d always planned to become a doctor. He focused on his studies in high school so he could get into Harvard for pre-med and med school before being invited into a residency at the University of Washington Medical Center. But working in the emergency room had him close to a personal burn-out. So when his trust fund from his grandparents left him with enough to comfortably live on, he’d packed up and moved back to Springfield, Missouri. There, he’d begun working a few days a week at a free clinic that was connected to a women’s shelter.

Then one day he had met up with several buddies from high school. They had tossed around an idea about opening a club and asked him to be part of it. And so BTS–Behind the Scenes–was born. Now he was busier than ever with the clinic and club. There was always something to do at the club, and he didn’t mind spending most of his spare time there. He didn’t have anyone to go home to and had gotten out of the habit of hobbies or leisure activities.

That would change once he found his Little, if he ever found her. He wasn’t holding his breath. Michael had been searching for her for over twenty years now and still hadn’t found her.

Yes, he did have Littles that he had been in relationships with before, but they never felt right. They had all been lovely, but he had always found himself eventually telling them he couldn’t do it anymore. Michael felt bad, but he didn’t want to lead them on. They were all grateful for that, even if they were sad when it was over.

He hadn’t had a Little in over eight years now. No one had caught his attention and he didn’t want to force anything.

Driving down the road he lived on, Michael thought about how he didn’t have anything in the fridge. He didn’t want takeout, but he didn’t want to cook tonight. Could he go to bed without dinner?

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t. Being a doctor wasn’t always great. He wanted to take care of his body and constantly eating takeout wasn’t good for him or anyone.

Sighing, he slowed his car when he saw another car stopped on the road. No one ever parked their cars out on the street in his neighborhood. It was a nice neighborhood, and everyone had garages they parked in.

Michael parked his navy-blue Toyota SUV in his driveway and kept an eye on the other car. Could someone be visiting a neighbor? It was unlikely since his neighbors liked to keep to themselves and never had anyone over.

Who could this be?

Squinting his eyes, Michael tried to make out if anyone was in the car or not. He stepped out of his car and slowly walked toward the mystery one.

The closer he got, the more clearly he made out a person slouching against the steering wheel. Were they okay?

Worry filled Michael and his pace picked up. What could be wrong with them? Why were they slouching against the steering wheel of their car?

He peeked into the back row seat as he walked up to the driver side. A green stuffed bunny caught his attention right away, dirty and worn like the person had it for years, but he could tell it was green. A couple of blankets littered the backseat as well.

Michael knocked on the driver's window, hoping to get the person’s attention. The person turned their head and the first thing he noticed were the bruises that littered the face and neck.The second thing he noticed was the person was female.

What the fuck had happened to her?

The shoulder length brown hair framed her bruised face. He could see the bruises were all different colors. The clothes she wore were old and tattered, like she hadn’t bought any in years.

An ear-piercing scream filled the street and his eyes went wide. Shit. He needed to get her to stop screaming soon or the neighbors would call the police, and Michael didn’t think that would be a good idea.

Glancing around her body, he saw more bruises on her hands, but everything else was covered. Why was she covered in bruises?

The girl finally stopped screaming, but kept her wide eyes trained on him. Ever so slowly, her face started to turn red and panic seized his chest. Shit. She needed to breathe or she was going to pass out.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice calm.

Michael hoped being calm would in turn help her calm down, but the opposite happened. Her eyes went wider and she started to shake.

“Breathe,” he commanded this time.

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