Page 16 of A Daddy for Christmas 2: Kitt

“He’s wanted in Georgia and he assaulted me in Arizona and stole money from me. Is that good enough for you? If not, I don’t give a fuck, because I’ll be removing him to another state, and I have all the necessary paperwork right here. Call the local cops if you want. They’ll tell you the same thing. This is a signed statement from his legal guardian, who wants him returned to Georgia.”

I held up my copy of the papers from Kitt’s brother, plus my own credentials again. “If you don’t want to be charged with harboring a fugitive, you’ll get the fuck out of my way.”

The forties looking guy snatched the paper from my hand and glanced over it. When he was done, he stuck out his chin pugnaciously. “I don’t see a warrant. As far as I’m concerned, you’re trespassing.”

“I don’t need a warrant. This paper here,” I snatched it back and waved it in his face. “Says I have the right to enter this property unannounced to take him into custody. Now stop obstructing and get the fuck out of my way, or I’m coming through you.”

The man and his boy reluctantly moved aside. There was a bit of an uproar going on with the other Littles and I regretted that I’d had to upset them. It was best that we just get the hell outof there. I moved my grip to Kitt’s hand and pulled him out the door and down the hall.

“I don’t understand,” he said, putting his other hand over his face and starting to cry—not loud, showy tears, but soft little heartbroken sounds with tears running down his cheeks that ripped my damn heart right out of my chest.

Well, shit.

“Stop all that,” I snapped. “It’s not working.”

The problem, of course, was that I was lying. It was working just fine.

In my line of work, I’d seen a lot of tears. Fugitives had cried all over me, fought me, kicked me, begged me, and generally made a nuisance of themselves, but I was never moved by anything they said or did. My philosophy was that if you did the crime, you could do the time. Period.

But his tears were different, and I wasn’t sure why.

I got him outside to my SUV and put him in the front seat, buckling him in.

“Put your hands down and look at me.”

He did as I asked and turned his tear-splotched face toward me. When some people cry, they get patchy red skin and their face twists up and their nose streams. It makes them look ugly, but not Kitt. His skin got even paler and more porcelain-like, except for two, round rosy spots on his cheeks. His thick, dark eyelashes were tear-drenched, though, which made them even darker, and his bottom lip was puffed out in a little pout, like a damn baby’s. It shouldn’t have bothered me a bit. I should have been able to laugh at him like I usually did with my fugitives and keep on going.

I couldn’t fucking do it.

I fought it like hell for a few more seconds. Then I turned toward him. I leaned over him to unlatch his seat belt and pullhim across the seat and into my lap. “Stop that crying. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Y-you don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me. Are you afraid of me? I’m not going to harm you, despite what you did to me. I was only trying to scare you just now, but not this bad. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Please relax.”

“What? No, please listen. I can’t go back to Atlanta. There are people there who will kill me.”

“No, Kitten, they won’t be able to get to you.”

He shot me a dark glance at my use of the pet name. I didn’t even know where that name came from, or why I started using it, though it just seemed appropriate to call him that. He was like a prickly little kitten, all teeth and claws one minute and cute and cuddly the next. Also, I wouldn’t mind making him purr, but that was a different story.

“But what if they do!”

“You’re in much greater danger here, just running around with no protection. Not to mention your friends, as well. Now we’re going back to that apartment you’ve been staying at to get your things.”

“Okay,” he said, pretending to be meek.

“Do you have a key?”

“It’s under the mat.”

“Good. Now sit back over in your seat and be a good boy.”

He widened his eyes at me, and I started the SUV and began to drive back to the apartment. I had spoken to him and was treating him like he was a Little, because it seemed right, and I didn’t know what his true mindset was. We were going to have to have a long talk about it soon though.

Once back at the apartment, we went inside, and he went to a bedroom to get his bag.

“I need to change clothes.”

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