Page 30 of Daddy Enforcer
What the fuck?
This ain’t right.
In fact, it stinks.
My jaw tightens, a slow burn of anger building in my gut. Locking him in a hotel room? Keeping him from his dancers? That’s not protection—that’s control, and it’s sounding more and more like the Trent I’m starting to suspect isn’t what he seems.
That email from yesterday, it’s all adding up.
Trent sent Billie here, said it was for his safety, but what if it’s a cover? A plot to keep him out of the way while he handles whatever mess he’s made?
My instincts, honed from years working Night Ops, are screaming that he’s devious, underhanded, and I’m starting to think he’s the real threat rather than some mysterious bogeyman.
“Go on,” I say, keeping my voice calm, not wanting him to shut down. “What about Zane? You’ve mentioned him before.”
Billie’s face softens, but there’s a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
“Zane was my favorite dancer,” Billie says. “He was a Little, you know? He’d talk about his Daddy, how he made him feel safe, free to play and be himself. I was so curious, wanted to ask him more, maybe even try it. But then he was just…gone. Trent said he got a big Disney job, but it was so sudden, no goodbye, nothing. I always wondered if he moved him off the team because we were getting close. Like he didn’t want me to have anyone but him calling the shots.”
I bristle, my hand tightening around my mug.
Trent’s an asshole, that’s for damn sure.
Moving Zane to isolate Billie? That’s the kind of move a manipulator pulls, and it’s making me more certain that mysuspicions are right. But I don’t have enough evidence yet—just that email, an intel file, and a gut feeling that’s never steered me wrong.
I need to dig deeper, contact Mr. G for more intel, but right now, Billie’s opening up, and I can see it’s hard for him, his voice trembling as he talks about his loneliness. I need to keep him grounded, keep him smiling, because the storm outside isn’t the only one coming…
“Hey,” I say, setting my mug down and grabbing one of his coloring books. “Enough heavy stuff. How about a coloring contest? You, me, Felix as the judge. Best unicorn wins?”
Billie’s eyes light up, the sadness fading as he grins, clutching Felix tighter.
“You’resoon, Daddy!” Billie squeals with delight. “But fair warning, I’mwaybetter at coloring than you.”
“Ha!” I laugh, my deep voice filling the cabin’s living area.
Billie’s sass is back, and it’s like the sun breaking through the blizzard, warming me from the inside out.
We spread out on the rug, each with a page and a handful of pens, and he dives in, his tongue poking out as he colors with fierce concentration.
I’m no artist, but I give it my best, throwing in some blue and green for my unicorn’s mane, mostly to make him laugh. He does, giggling when I accidentally scribble outside the lines, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day.
When we’re done, he holds up Felix, giving him a little shake like he’s inspecting our work.
“Felix says I win!” Billie declares, his voice triumphant as he points to his sparkly pink-and-purple unicorn. “Yours is cute, but mine’sepic.”
I laugh, raising my hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, Felix’s word is law,” I concede. “You win, Little One.”
Billie’s grin is huge, and for a moment, it’s just us, the fire, and his laughter, the blizzard shutting out the world.
But inside, I’m steeling myself.
Trent’s shadow is looming larger, and the drama I’ve been dreading might be closer than I thought.
I’ll protect Billie, no matter what, but I’ve got that Night Ops instinct it’s gonna get messy before it gets better…
Chapter 13
