Page 14 of Daddy Enforcer
But out here, splitting logs, I can focus on something real, something I can control. The axe bites into the wood, and I lose myself in the rhythm—swing, crack, stack, repeat. This is a vision of a life I could have lived, working alone in nature, with my only worry being how best to tend to my own small patch of land. Maybe this could be my future after I leave the Guard… if I make it out alive, that is.
Hell, I’ve got a few more years left in me as a Guard. Any talk of retirement or stepping away isn’t something I need to even be considering now. And anyway, would life outside the Guard be in any way as satisfyingly full of thrills? Fuck no.
I turn to grab another log and catch sight of Billie through the window again.
He’s not in the corner anymore, but that’s okay.
The timer must’ve gone off, because he’s standing by the window, his nose practically pressed against the glass, watching me. The boy’s eyes are wide, sparkling with something like awe, and it stops me cold.
He’s not pouting or sulking now—just staring, his lips parted, like he’s seeing me for the first time. My pulse kicks up, and I grip the axe tighter, trying to shake off the heat creeping up my neck.
Damn it, he’s a client.
A mission.
But those eyes, that look—it’s doing things to me I don’t want to admit.
I set the axe down, leaning it against the woodpile, and beckon him outside with a nod.
“Come on out,” I call, my voice carrying through the crisp air.
Billie hesitates, then pushes the door open, stepping into the snow in his too-thin jacket and boots. His cheeks are still flushed from the timeout—or maybe something else—and he wraps his arms around himself, shivering but trying to play it cool.
“Well done,” I say, keeping my tone firm but warm. “You took that timeout on the chin. Not quitting, no acting out. That’s good. I’m impressed.”
Billie’s cheeks go pinker, and he looks away, kicking at the snow with his boot.
“Yeah, whatever,” Billie mumbles, but there’s a shy edge to his voice, like he’s not sure how to take the praise.
It’s cute, damn it, and I hate how it makes my chest tighten.
He’s supposed to be a brat, not this… disarming.
“Seriously,” I say, leaning against the woodpile, crossing my arms. “You followed orders. That’s important out here. You keep that up, we’ll get along just fine. Trust me, I know how to run an operation. I’ve been there, got the t-shirt.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a tiny smile tugging at his lips.
“Don’t get used to it,” Billie says, his sass creeping back. “I’m not your soldier or whatever.” He pauses, then tilts his head, his eyes curious. “Speaking of… what’s your deal, Max? You’reall protocol, secret missions, Trent says you work for some kind of ‘Night Ops Guard’ or something. But what’s the story? You always this bossy, or is it just me?”
Billie’s playfulness catches me off guard, and I feel a grin tug at my mouth before I can stop it. He’s trying to flip the script, get under my skin, and it’s working. I want to keep him at arm’s length, stay professional, but those big eyes and that teasing tone are making it hard.
“I’ve been bossy since I was a kid,” I say, keeping it light. “Grew up on a farm, had to keep my brothers in line. Joined the Guard after the military, been keeping people safe ever since. That’s the short version. The version suitable for civilians.”
I stand and watch, waiting to see how Billie reacts. Will he push back, or will he take my answer as enough to quench his curiosity?
Billie raises an eyebrow, stepping closer, his boots crunching in the snow.
“Short version? Come on, give me something juicy,” Billie giggles. “You ever, like, save a president or fight off a ninja or something?”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“No ninjas. Just a lot of long nights and close calls,” I say, a wry smile on my face. I think about that Mediterranean mission, the one that went sideways, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I give him a tidbit. “I once pulled a diplomat out of a burning car in a warzone. Got a nice scar for my trouble.” I tap my shoulder, where the jagged line still sits under my shirt.
Billie’s eyes widen, and I see that awe again, mixed with something softer, something that makes me want to pull him close and forget every rule I’ve got.
He steps even closer, his breath puffing out in the cold.
“That’s kinda cool,” Billie says, his voice playful but genuine. “You’re, like, a real hero,huh?”
