Page 67 of Daddy Defender

But I’m a Night Ops Daddy, and this is what I do.

“You’re done, Vince,” I snarl, pinning him, my knee on his chest. “Bodie’s free.”

Vince laughs, bloodied and manic.

“You think this ends with me?” Vince screeches. “The cartel won’t stop. He’s dead, asshole.”

Rage flares inside me, but before I can answer, gunfire erupts behind me…

Cole’s voice crackles through the comms, strained.

“Henry, they’re rushing us! Two down, two left, but they’re heavy!”

I glance back, the pier a warzone, Cole pinned behind a crate, Connor’s rifle still firing. The remaining cartel goons are closing,their firepower overwhelming. Vince squirms, trying to break free, and I tighten my grip, my mind racing…

I could end him now, snap his neck, but that won’t stop the cartel. We need him alive, for the feds, for leverage.

I haul Vince up, dragging him toward cover, my Glock pressed to his spine.

“Move, or you’re dead,” I hiss, shoving him toward the crates.

Vince stumbles, cursing, but complies, his knife lost in the scuffle. We dive behind a stack of netting, bullets pinging off metal, the air thick with cordite.

“Cole, status!” I bark, keeping Vince down, my gun trained on him.

“Holding,” Cole grunts, his rifle answering the cartel’s fire. “Connor’s got one in his sights. We can take them, but it’s tight.”

“Copy,” I say, my eyes flicking to the pier’s end, where the boat bobs, tempting. If we can push the goons back, we can regroup, get Vince to the feds. But the odds are brutal, and every second feels like a lifetime.

In the brief lull, as Cole and Connor keep the goons pinned, my mind drifts to Bodie once more...

His van speeding through the night, his hands tight on Shred’s wheel, Poot and Billy on the seat beside him. I picture his face, his freckles, his defiant grin, and whisper a prayer to whatever god’s listening.

Please, let him be safe.

Let him make it to the safe point.

My Daddy heart aches, needing him to be okay, needing to hold him again, to tell him he’s mine, always.

Vince shifts, smirking despite the blood on his face.

“He’s not safe, you know,” Vince taunts. “The cartel’s got eyes everywhere.”

“Shut up,” I snap, pressing the Glock harder against him, but his words dig in, fueling the fire.

I won’t let Vince win.

Not now, notever.

Gunfire erupts again, closer, the cartel goons advancing.

Cole’s rifle sings, Connor’s sniper shots echoing, but we’re still outnumbered, the pier a deadly chessboard.

I grip Vince, my resolve iron, ready to fight to the end—for Bodie, forus.

The showdown’s far from over, and the night’s about to get bloodier than anyone had ever imagined...

Chapter 23