Page 46 of Daddy's Rules

Sure enough, the little mutt comes trotting out in front of us, but he isn’t alone. The woman, tall, thin, with greasy black hair and loose clothes, comes out behind him. “You call my pet a beast?” she asks, acting as if it’s completely normal to crawl out of the bushes.

The way she keeps yanking the dog back from getting to Jordan makes me want to snatch the leash right from her hands and knock her on her ass to give her a taste of the manhandling she’s doling out.

“Your pet?” Jordan half-shouts. “He’s not yours! I rescued him. He’s mine.”

The woman shakes her head and gives me a once-over and then looks back at Jordan, scooping the dog into her skinny arms. “He’s actually for sale,” she says. “Tell your boyfriend to hand over three hundred bucks and this stupid thing is yours.”

“He isn’t yours!” Jordan shouts, pulling her hand away from me. “You can’t just demand money for him!”

“Jordan!”

“Let me go, Owen!” she screams, tugging her arm away from me. “That’s Beast! He knows me! I promised to keep him safe.”

Beast wriggles and writhes in the woman’s arms. She curses, trying to hold onto him. “If you want him, come get him,” the woman grits out, turning to jog away. Jordan runs after her, but I reach for her hand and grab it.

“Jordan, stop.”

“She has Beast, Owen!”

“I know,” I tell her. “But being confrontational isn’t going to help anything. You need to let me handle this.” Her eyes flit to the woman and then come back to mine. She knows what happens if she disobeys me, and she knows the choice is hers.

“Trust me,” I tell her. “You may have promised Beast you’d keep him safe, but it’s my job to keep you safe.” I have no idea what I’ll do or how I’ll handle this, but I do know that being combative isn’t going to solve anything. “Can you trust me?”

She bites her lip and nods. “Yes. Yes, Daddy, of course I can.” The anger falls away and she gathers a breath. She trusts me to take care of this and my heart practically soars in my chest that she does.

“Good,” I tell her. “I’ll remember that when I get you home later.” The longing in her eyes makes my chest burn with pride. She trusts me. I gather her hair in my hands and weave my fingers through it. Tugging her head back, I give her a brief, chaste kiss. “Let’s go.”

Taking her by the hand, I lead her after the woman. She’s headed up some steps and into an apartment. The steps are scattered with beer cans, and there’s a strong smell of garlic and garbage. My stomach rolls and Jordan wrinkles her nose.

“Poor Beast,” she whispers. “Get him, Daddy. Please.”

I knock on the door, but when I do, it creaks open. The woman is sitting at a kitchen table, lighting a cigarette. “My money?” she says.

“We know who gave you the dog. Kari-Anne Bowing. And she stole him from us. I’ve already called the cops. He’s also been microchipped so they’ll know right away he’s ours.” I’m talking out my ass but if I’ve learned anything being a dominant it’s that when you’re confident and act like you know what you’re talking about, people usually believe you.

Jordan’s eyes flit about the room, looking for Beast, and she gives a little whimper when she finds him in the corner in a cage. He gets to his feet when he spots her and howls, clawing at the wired cage.

Jordan says nothing, though, but brings her gaze to mine. I look to the woman. “We’ll take him now,” I tell her.

“Will you?” She sucks in smoke and lets it out in a billow around her thin, wan face before she stretches out a long, thin hand, palm up. “Give me my money.”

“Prove ownership,” I tell her, looking around for the key. A glimmer of something metal flashes at me beneath a pile of trash on the table beside her. I can tell from where I stand it’s a key.

“Bullshit,” she says. “That’s your job. Possession is nine tenths of the law.”

“Oh?” I ask, noting the little clear plastic packet on the table. Taking a step toward her, I point at it. “I told you the cops are on their way and I bet good money they’ll find that pretty interesting.” Her eyes widen, and then narrow. She has more drugs than just that in this house. I’m sure of it. With one swift movement, I shove the papers aside and grab the key. She howls in rage, but it takes her too long to react. I already have the key in hand and I’m tossing it to Jordan.

“Open the cage,” I tell her. “Get the dog.”

She wastes no time at all in obeying me. In a split second, she’s on her knees, fumbling with the lock. The woman screams and lunges, but I dive to stop her and pull her away before she can get to Jordan.

“I have no idea who you are,” I say with practiced patience. She’s clawing at me but can do little to harm me. “Or why you’ve done this, but you’re way out of line. Now you’ll sit down and let us leave in peace with our dog, or trust me I’ll have the cops pick this place apart.” She stops fighting and slouches against me. I deposit her on the couch and wait until Jordan has the dog.

“Go,” I tell her. “Bring him to the car.” She obeys and leaves.

I turn and fix the woman with a hard stare.

“Do you always boss women around like that?” she asks, glaring at me.

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