Page 38 of Chasing Amber

Is she trying to kill me? Perhaps. But this isn’t an unusual dress for someone her age and build who’s got an appointmentor plans to shop. She looks casual enough. Hopefully, no one will ogle her and cause me to growl at them.

After helping her into the SUV, I stretch the seatbelt across her and buckle her in while she stares at me. When I’m finished, she rolls her eyes and says, “Thanks, Dad.”

I’m still leaning into the car, so I use one finger under her chin—careful not to touch her cut—and meet her gaze. “You’ll add a Y to the end of that, or you don’t say it at all. If you sass me, I will spank your naughty bottom. Would you like me to do that here in the parking garage before we leave?”

Her eyes go wide. “No, Sir,” she whispers.

“I didn’t think so. Stick with Isaac, Sir, or Daddy. You may decide which of those is appropriate in any given circumstance, but how about you refrain from calling me names? Jerk face and turd monger were certainly creative the other night, but the next time you talk to me in that tone, I will discipline you.”

Her cheeks pinken. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I back out of the car, shut the door, scan the area for other people, and round to the driver’s side. I feel much more relaxed once I have the doors locked and the engine running. This SUV is equipped with bulletproof glass. Spence doesn’t fuck around when it comes to his sister’s safety.

As I ease out of the spot, I think back on when I was first hired. I couldn’t imagine why this bratty woman needed a bodyguard. It seemed like overkill. She was twenty-eight at the time, a full-grown adult. It made no sense.

Eventually, I learned more about her kidnapping, the ransom demands, and the amount of money these two inherited when their parents died. I also found out how their parents passed. I did that research on my own instead of asking.

It still brings chills to the back of my neck when I remember reading the article about the explosion at the bank that instantly took both of their lives. They’d been there to take something outof their safe deposit box. Though the crime was never solved, nor were there any leads, it was obvious that someone knew the Wakefields would be there at that time and orchestrated a heist. The burglars hadn’t done enough research on the bank’s procedures, though. They hadn’t counted on the vault automatically locking everyone both in and out. If they were in the building prepared to join the Wakefields and rob them of the contents of their safe deposit box, their attempts were thwarted.

After I read every bit of information available concerning the Wakefields’ murder, I understood much better why Amber needed a security detail. I’d almost rather lock her up and never let her leave the apartment, but that’s not reasonable, so I protect her with my life.

Amber outwardly insists that her brother is over the top and she doesn’t need a bodyguard, but I’ve always believed her arguments were a front. She understands the danger she’s in. She just doesn’t like it.

I’m scanning the area as I drive through the streets of Seattle, glancing at Amber now and then because it’s what I do. She hasn’t said a word since I got in the car, and I wonder if she’s upset with me being so highhanded in the garage.

She’s wringing her hands together in her lap. When we come to a traffic light, she finally turns to me. Her eyes are watery. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she chokes out.

My heart stutters as I frown and reach over to take her hands. “What are you sorry for, baby?”

“Sassing you. Calling you Dad. Are you mad?”

I squeeze her hands. “No, baby. Goodness. I could never be mad at you. I’m simply navigating this new reality we’re living in one step at a time. I think your Little needs boundaries, and she’s going to get them.” I lift a brow.

She pulls her hands free and wipes her tears before smiling at me. “Okay. Thank you.”

The light changes, and I continue. When I reach the corner where we’re close enough to the shops she wants to visit and the gallery, I’m lucky to find a spot on the street.

After parallel parking, I turn to her. “Deep breath, baby.”

She inhales slowly.

“Good girl. You okay?”

“Yes.” She nods.

“Stay there until I get around to help you out.”

“Okay.”

This is our norm. I always ask her to stay in the car. I like to look around at our surroundings before I let her out. She almost never obeys me because my girl lives on the edge, but today, she stays put. Maybe her Little will be more obedient than her adult. If only I could be that lucky.

With a hand on the small of her back, I guide her into the art store. It’s not very large, and I easily take in every person inside—two customers who are looking at colored pencils and the owner.

“Morning, Amber. How are you today?” the owner, Jed, asks.

“Doing well. Thank you.” Amber stands taller and heads directly for the counter.

Jed’s eyes suddenly widen. “Oh my. What happened to your chin?”

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