Page 21 of Daddy's Rules

I’ll keep it that way. No more running, little girl.

Leaning down, I brush my lips against the soft, damp apple of her cheek. “You’ve been a brave girl,” I tell her. “Such a good, brave girl.”

She shakes her head, her wild hair tumbling about her. “I haven’t,” she whispers. “I called you for help because I can’t handle things on my own. I’m helpless and I hate this.” Her jaw tightens before she continues. “Before, I’d call my dad’s assistant and he’d fix things. Never my dad. But now, instead of him, I’m calling you. God, what’s wrong with me?”

I shake my head and grasp her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “I don’t want to hear you say that.” I pause while she gives me her full attention. “You belong to me, and I protect what’s mine. That includes protecting you from yourself if need be.” I raise my brows to her. “Understand, little one?”

She bites her lip and nods. When my eyes pin hers sharply, she whispers, “Yes, Daddy.”

And I tug her back up to my chest and kiss the top of her head. My heart melts at her trust.

“I want you to call me, okay?”

She nods again this time against my chest.

“You’re grieving, Jordan. And not just over your father. You’re grieving who you were too. I’ve rushed things. You need to find yourself, pick up the pieces of your life, and figure out how to function without your father’s team of fixers.”

Her arms tighten around me. “So does this mean no more rules?”

I give her a playful swat. “Not so fast, young lady.” That draws out a sweet giggle that makes me smile.

“You do better when you have rules, don’t you? In fact, rules and structure are exactly what you need, aren’t they, little girl?”

Her head nods as she peeks up at me. “Yes, Daddy. At least, I think so.”

“Then we’ll come up with a plan. For now, we’ll get you back to my place.” When she reaches for her suitcase, I shake my head once, a firm reminder that she’ll let me take care of her now. That she’s mine, and if I’m going to make her follow my rules, she’ll reap the benefit of her obedience by letting me care for her.

“My little girl doesn’t carry her own bags.” The cop exits the building and instructs Jordan to get into my car and wait.

“What’s it look like?” I ask the officer, noticing he’s carrying a plastic evidence bag with several yellow manila envelopes. I note right away the envelopes all have a wrinkle defect as if the folding process was botched.

“Who are you?” the cop asks, eyeing me and then frowns. “Owen Holloway, lawyer to the pricks that make my life miserable.” He chuffs. “Is there a reason Miss Donahue needs a lawyer?”

I smile smoothly at the cop. I’m not the most popular guy with them but we respect each other.

“I’m also a close family friend.” I look at Jordan sitting in the car. Her head is lowered. Her hair falls in golden waves around her face. “She’s been through a lot lately.”

The cop nods solemnly. “Miss Donahue thought it was someone in the building targeting her, but I don’t think that’s the case. Are you aware she’d been getting threatening letters for the past few months?”

“No, I wasn’t aware.” I look back at Jordan, now curled up with her knees against her chest and her sweater pulled over them. I wonder why she hadn’t even mentioned it to me.

“She says she didn’t report them because her dad got letters all the time. She figured it was part of being famous and now that he was gone, she was a new target.” He shakes his head. “Threatening letters should never be ignored.”

“I completely agree.” I gather a breath. “What do they say?”

“I haven’t gone through them thoroughly. But I found something else besides the apartment being torn apart, the linens on her bed were shredded. Looks like they were sliced repeatedly with a knife. I’m calling for backup and forensics. Just know we’re treating this as a very serious matter, Mr. Holloway.”

“Good.” I reach into my breast pocket and hand him my card. “Please keep me informed of the investigation.” He hands me his card and we both look at Jordan. “Maybe keep the contact between us for now, Officer. Unless you need to question her, of course.” I turn and pin him with a serious look. “She’s frail right now.”

My own words reinforce my earlier thoughts. Jordan definitely doesn’t need the complication of a sexual relationship with everything else she’s going through.

* * *

At first the driveback to my place is quiet. I take her hand in mine and rest it against my knee. I’m deep in thought about the letters while she watches cars flying by out the window. “I like your place better than mine anyway,” she mutters.

“Hmm?”

“It’s cleaner.”

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