Page 73 of Daddy, Sir

“No disrespect intended, but unless you are that person, I don’t see how you can know that, Zeke.”

“Easy. Stalkers don’t just throw up their hands and say, ‘oh, well,’ when the object of their infatuation disappears. They don’t even do it when someone sticks a for sale sign in their front yard and pulls away in a U-Haul. They follow. Maybe not right away, but they do. As for your case, Fiona, you haven’t moved. Yes, you’re staying at Landon’s, but how many times have you been back to your house?”

Not sure where he was going, I shrugged. “I don’t know, however many times Landon’s taken me over there. I had to get some clothes and then there is that little thing about looking in the mail for the next fu… freaking note even though not a single one has been in an envelope much less came with a postage stamp!” It didn’t take Landon’s hand moving to cover mine for me to feel awful. “I’m sorry, Zeke, I’m just…”

“Exhausted,” Zeke said, giving me a smile.

“How can I be exhausted? Granted, I hadn’t been sleeping much before I found Citadel, but since that day, since I met all of you and you agreed to help me, I’m sleeping every night.”

Audra wiped her mouth with her napkin before saying, “There are different types of exhaustion, Fiona. As a psychologist, you know that. But as a woman who is dealing with some unknown person threatening you, you’re not thinking with your head. Your heart is leading and your body is struggling to keep up.”

I gave the occupants of the table another glance and nodded. “You’re right.” Glancing to my left, I added, “Is that what you wanted me to see?”

“Partly, but unlike Audra, I was talking about what is actually visible.”

The fact I was pretty sure I looked clueless despite trying to figure out his meaning, was most likely what had him releasing my hand and tapping his finger against the edge of my plate.

What am I missing? A pickle? I didn’t even like pickles sooo…

“Babe, you’ve had that plate in front of you for an hour. You’ve picked up that sandwich exactly twice. Neither of those times did you take a bite?—”

“I’m–”

“Interrupting.” Landon disappeared in an instant and my Dom appeared. I wasn’t even sure it was my Daddy Dom until his eyes softened. “The single potato chip I handed you after opening the bag does not constitute lunch, Fiona. Look around? Everyone else except for Audra finished thirty minutes ago and she is just toying with the stupid pickle because she is trying to give you a clue. A clue you are too exhausted to pick up on.”

What was a girl to do when not only her Daddy was right but so were the other members of the team. I picked up my sandwich and brought it toward my mouth.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The sandwich was taken from my hands and dropped. Half of it fell back onto the plate while shards of lettuce and a slice of tomato hit the polished wood surface. Before I could reach for my napkin to clean up the mess, I was lifted out of my chair and had my head pressed to my Daddy’s shoulder.

“Go,” Matt said from behind me.

“Take her out, Landon. Not home, not to your apartment, take her outside.”

“Forget lunch, buy her an ice-cream cone and let her sit in the sun to eat it.”

“Yeah, that would be great. She can listen to the birds chirping instead of yet another question.”

I’d known the people who made Citadel what it was were good people, brave people. I’d known they were intelligent in more than just what was learned in the pages of books or on the streets. But hearing them calling out suggestions told me they were caring people. The suggestions though, had me pressing closer, grateful his hand kept my head tight to his chest. While I couldn’t help it if people noticed my body shaking, I could hope that being this close helped muffle the sounds I was making as Landon carried me from the conference room, out of the building and into the parking garage.

Once he had deposited me onto the front seat, he shook his head, his fingers to his lips. I bowed my head and slapped my hands over my mouth as he slid behind the wheel and made quick work of exiting the garage. Still, he waited until we were halfway down the block before looking over at me.

“You’re clear, go for it.”

At that, I didn’t bother to try to hold back. The tears streaming down my face weren’t from sadness, they were from the laughter that was echoing around the car. I admit, I probably sounded a bit hysterical, but blamed it on the suggestions repeating in a loop in my head. It took another two blocks before Landon joined in, his chuckles calming my outburst to giggles, then to the occasional snort, and finally to hiccups.

“Take a breath and hold it,” Landon instructed as he pulled to a stop at a light.

I nodded and sucked in air, only to lose it all when I hiccupped again.

“Boo!”

Landon’s yell had me screeching and then slapping at his arm when I realized he was literally trying to scare the hiccups out of me. He allowed me a few harmless swats of his arm before he easily grabbed my hands and held them down. Opening my mouth to tell him how close he’d come to scaring the pee out of me, I paused. Hmmm, it had worked.

“Do you think it might behoove you to inform your team that the title of Daddy does not always mean your partner identifies as a Little? Isn’t a Middle either? That some of us are submissive adults who simply find the title comforting?”

“I believe I can see some benefit to yoursuggestion,” Landon said.

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