Page 20 of Daddy's Rules

Chapter Six

Owen

With my hands on my hips, I scowl at the room as if it’s responsible for chasing Jordan away. Picture frames sit on table tops, showing friends, family, and adventures I’ve had, but the one that stopped me from making a huge mistake is still on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass. With grim determination, I clean up the broken pieces and throw the frame and glass away. I take the picture out, though, and tuck it away in a drawer by my desk. My fingers brush the end of a paddle I keep in there. I’d never take clients to my home, but sometimes I do video calls and the visual of a stern implement helps.

With a sigh, I take the paddle out of the drawer and smack my hand with it, imagining bending her over my desk and bringing it down on her pert little ass.

She’s got to stop running away. If I didn’t think it would defeat the purpose, I’d chase her down now, bring her back here, and redden her little ass. At the same time, I want to kick my own ass, though. I never should have let things get out of hand to begin with.

I don’t care that she’s younger than I am, or that her father was my friend. Not really. But I do care about how she feels about those things and her current vulnerability.

I need to give her space to really grieve. The last thing she needs right now is my feelings complicating her life. I should’ve kept my hands off of her and kept things platonic.

Damn, I’ve been selfish.

I’m pulled out of my self-abuse when my phone rings.

Jordan.

I answer right away. “Hello?”

Her panicked response twists my heart. “Owen?”

“Jordan, where are you? Is everything okay?”

“No.” Her breathing comes in fast pants as she blubbers her explanation. “I’ve been evicted and at first I was just going to walk away, but then decided I was going to handle it myself but now someone has broken in. It’s destroyed. I have nowhere to go.” Her voice shakes with emotion.

What the hell? It takes me a few seconds to decipher her words, but when I do I feel my own panic rise. Is she in danger?

“Baby, where are you right now? Have you called the police?”

“I’m standing at my door. It’s dark and quiet so I don’t think there’s anyone in there.” The tremor in her voice makes me angry. I want to kill whoever’s scared her. “I called you first. But I’m not wanted here anymore, and I won’t have a place to live and someone broke in and now I look like I’ve destroyed the place.”

“I’m coming to get you. You’re coming home with me.” I’m already getting my keys. “Go to the lobby right now. Someone may still be in your condo. You’re not safe there and that’s the only thing that matters right now.”

“No,” she protests. “You know what happened the last time I went to your place. If I set foot in there again...”

“Jordan!” My tone is sharp and instantly quiets her. “Lobby now. I’m calling the police.”

“Okay,” she says, sounding tiny and vulnerable.

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“This time will be different. This time, there will be ground rules—for both of us. Don’t worry, okay? Your emotional and physical welfare are my first priority.”

She quiets. After a moment, she sniffles. “Okay.”

The cops assure me they’ll be there in a few minutes but my heart still races with the need to rescue her. I hate the idea of her being scared and alone. I want to hold her close to me, protect her from everything that can hurt her. My sexual urges when I’m with her don’t matter. What matters is that she trusts me to help her, guide her, and take care of her.

Jordan needs her daddy.

While I drive, I go over the rules in my head. Not the rules I’ll have for her, but the ones I’ll have for me. She needs to grieve, to work through the emotions John’s sudden change of heart brought on her and time to embrace her new future. A future where she’ll learn to be self-reliant because even though I want to take care of her for as long as she’ll let me, she needs to know she can handle life on her own. A new relationship becoming her focus won’t help anything. Our platonic dynamic, the structure and care I’ll provide will be enough for her to deal with on top of grieving and learning to be independent from her father’s money and influence.

I finally arrive at her place. It feels like hours since I’ve spoken to her when only fifteen minutes have passed. She’s standing there with a forlorn expression that breaks my heart a little. She’s got a suitcase in one hand and her purse in the other. A cop car is parked along the street, but I don’t see its owner. As I park my car behind the cop’s, she lifts her eyes to mine. She brightens a little, as if seeing me gives her hope.

I put the car in park and go to her, eager to hold her again. I reach for her bags but rest them on the sidewalk near me so I can bend down and gather her up in my arms. I hold her like I’ve wanted to since she took off, burrowed in against my chest, and close my eyes. It feels so damn good to have her against me, safe.

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