Page 22 of Blade

“On it. Does it need to match?”

“No. I’ll tell her what I’m doing. I can’t keep secrets from her. I just want her to have a reliable way to reach any of us without worrying about her fucking ex getting to her.”

“Ouch. Setting it up now. Want me to take it upstairs?”

“No. I’ll do it when I get back. Rachell sent someone up to guard the door.”

“Right. Must have been Spike. He jogged out of here in a hurry a bit ago. Right behind Cannon.”

“Cannon’s headed here to join me at June’s apartment.”

“Someone fucking broke in, didn’t they?”

“Yep.”

“Thank fuck she had the good sense to get out of there first thing this morning.”

“Indeed. Thanks.” I end that call just as there’s a knock at the door.

I take a quick look in the peephole and let Cannon in, shutting the door behind him.

His face is tight as he surveys the situation. “Obvious toss job meant to instill fear.”

“I agree.” I nod toward the table. “Didn’t even take her computer.”

He glances around without moving. “Police won’t do shit.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

He takes another step in. “Except pin shit on you if you report it.”

I don’t even respond. He’s speaking rhetorically. This isn’t our first rodeo. We see shit like this all the time. Rich and poor alike face this kind of thing.

“She yours?” he asks without looking.

“Yes.”

He nods, his back still to me. “Good.” He turns around. “She know it?”

“Yes.”

“She know she’s Little?”

“Nope.”

He smirks. “Good luck with that, man.” He looks around again. “So, what do you want to do?”

“I’m going to pack up what she needs and head back.”

He drops his backpack on the floor and opens it. “I’ll check for prints and take pics.”

That’s why I called him. I didn’t head over here with equipment.

Careful not to touch anything he could pull prints from, I find a duffel and start filling it with her clothes. I quickly decide to only bring a few outfits. I’ll buy her new things. I’ll buy her Little things.

But it’s going to be a few days before she grasps who her Little is and what it means. In the meantime, I can’t pressure her to dress a certain way. Granted, I’ll never pressure her to do anything. That’s not my goal. My job is to gently show her the Little I believe is living inside her and get her excited about it.

I pick up her blankets and sheets and drop them back on her bed. When I do so, something falls out of the covers and lands on the floor. Curious, I bend over to pick it up and grin from ear to ear.