Page 24 of Daddy Protector (Night Ops Daddies #1)

Richie

“Fizz, I can’t believe it!” I say, my voice bubbling over with frustration. “Cole thinks he can just calm me down and then go about his business like that. No way. Just… argh !”

I pace the threadbare brown carpet in the motel room, Fizz clutched tightly to my chest, my heart beating and my anger in danger of spilling over.

My backpack is already slung over one shoulder, stuffed with my otter book, a change of clothes, and the weight of Cole’s betrayal.

How could he lie to me?

About Pop of all people…

And maybe about everything else too for all I know.

Cole’s out in the corridor, making his call to Henry, promising to explain everything—Pop’s arms deal, the danger, the secrets he kept—but how can I believe him?

He’s been lying to me, sitting on this information when he knows full well how desperate I am to get to the bottom of all this and help my father.

Cole clearly thinks that just because I’m a Little then I must be a total kid.

Well I’m going to show him…

The file I found, exposing Pop’s role in a deal that unleashed a cartel on us, shattered my trust, not just in him but in Cole… my Daddy, the man I gave my heart, my body, my Little side.

Last night, in his arms, I felt cherished, whole, our passion a fire that burned away the chaos around us. But that trust I gave is in the ashes, replaced by a searing anger that he lied, treated me like a fragile child who couldn’t handle the truth.

I’m Hunter Selleck’s son, raised in the shadow of secrets, and I deserve to know why my life’s been upended.

I can’t stay here, waiting for Cole’s half-truths, suffocating under his control. I need to find Pop in the city, confront him, hear the truth from his lips, not filtered through Cole’s guarded promises and whatever lie he happens to make up on the spot to cover his ass.

“Come on, Fizz, we’re doing this,” I say, my determination to do things my way peaking.

I’m ready.

I have no choice.

My decision might be reckless, a spark of defiance or whatever. I don’t care. I grab a motel notepad, scribbling a note…

Gone to find Pop. Don’t follow .

That’s all that Cole deserves. My hand trembles as I leave the note on the lumpy bed, the floral bedspread still tangled from last night’s fun and games.

I snatch the rotary phone, its cord coiling like my nerves, and call a cab, my voice steady despite the tears prickling my eyes.

The operator says it’ll be ten minutes, and I say make it five. And I tell them to make sure the cab driver meets me round the rear of the parking lot, away from Cole’s eyes.

I slip out the door. There’s no going back now.

Cole’s at the payphone, his back to me, his voice a low murmur, and I move silently, my sneakers quiet on the ground beneath, my heart pounding with fear, anger, and a desperate need to act.

I don’t need to wait long. My urgent tone on the phone evidently did the trick as I barely have to wait two minutes before the cab arrives.

The gravel at the rear of the lot is slick with rain, the cab’s headlights cutting through the mist, and I slide into the back seat, Fizz pressed against my chest, his button eyes a small comfort.

“To the city,” I tell the driver, a grizzled man in a faded baseball cap, and he grunts, pulling onto the highway, the motel’s flickering neon sign fading into the rainy night. “And make it fast. The faster you go, the bigger the tip.”

The cab driver smiles and nods. I figure he’s used to people making quick getaways from that motel. And a quick getaway is very much what I intend on making too.

The cab rumbles along, the forest a dark blur of pines and mist beyond the windows, the wipers’ rhythmic swish a counterpoint to my churning thoughts.

You made me do this, Cole.

This is on you.

I could have handled anything with you by my side…

I hold Fizz tighter, my fingers digging into his fur, anger flaring with every mile. Cole knew about Pop’s deal, the cartel it provoked, the danger it brought to our doorstep, and he hid it, thinking I was too weak to handle it, just a Little who needs warm milk and bedtime stories.

But I’m more than that.

I’m way more.

I’ve faced bullets, a grenade, the safe house burning, and I’m still here, still fighting. Cole saw my trust, my love, my wild side in that motel bed, and still couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth, only relenting when I already knew everything.

The memory of his lips, warm and hungry, his hands claiming me, his voice whispering my name… it twists into pain, a betrayal that hurts worse than Pop’s secrets.

I wanted Cole to see me as an equal, not just his Little, but he shut me out, and now I’m running, proving I can face the truth myself.

“I’m doing this for Pop, and for me,” I whisper to Fizz, but my voice shakes, doubt creeping in, the city a distant, dangerous unknown.

“All okay back there?” the cab driver says, his eyes glancing upward in the rear-view mirror.

“All good,” I answer, just about able to make my voice sound tough and in control.

Ten minutes into the journey, the cab’s headlights catch a glint in the side mirror, and my stomach lurches.

A motorcycle roars up alongside us, its rider hunched against the rain, and I recognize Cole’s broad shoulders, his leather jacket slick with water, his face set with fierce determination under a helmet.

No, Cole.

It’s too late.

Daddy…

My heart stumbles, anger clashing with a flicker of relief—he found me, he’s here, chasing me through the storm.

“Pull over,” I snap to the driver, my voice sharp, and he grumbles, easing onto the roadside, gravel crunching under the tires.

“What the hell, kid!” the driver barks, but I’m not listening right now.

I step out, the rain cold on my face, soaking my hoodie, Fizz clutched tight, and face Cole as he dismounts, his boots splashing in a puddle, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a desperation that steals my breath.

“Richie, please,” Cole says, his voice raw, cutting through the rain’s roar, his helmet tossed aside, rain streaming down his face.

“Don’t do this. The city’s too dangerous.

The cartel’s after you, and Hunter’s not there, not yet.

I’m begging you, come back with me. I’m telling you the truth. Like it or not.”

I can see from Cole’s eyes that he’s not holding back. This is what I wanted all along. And finally, I have it.

Cole steps closer, his hands open, pleading, his eyes raw with emotion.

“Did you steal a motorcycle?” I ask, shocked but kinda impressed too.

“Yeah. But that’s not what’s important right now.

I fucked up, I know,” Cole says. “I should’ve told you about the deal, about Hunter’s mistakes.

I thought I was protecting you, shielding your heart.

But I was wrong. You’re not just my Little…

you’re strong, fierce, smarter than I gave you credit for.

You can handle the truth, and I see that now.

I trust you, Richie, and I need you to trust me again. ”

His words crack my anger, piercing the wall I’ve built, but I hold my ground, my voice trembling.

“You lied, Cole,” I say. “How do I trust you now?”

Tears mix with the rain, my fingers tightening around Fizz, my heart torn between hurt and the pull of Cole’s presence.

“Tell me!” I shout.

Cole’s face softens, his voice breaking, raw and vulnerable.

“Last night wasn’t a mistake, it was everything,” Cole says.

“I love you, Richie, not just as your Daddy, but as the man who sees all of you. Your strength, your fire, your heart. I kept the truth from you because I was scared of losing you, of breaking what we have, but I can’t lose you now.

I love you, and I’ll spend every day proving it, keeping you safe, being honest. Please, come back.

Let me protect you, let me make this right . ”

Cole’s eyes are desperate, his love pouring out, matching the passion of our night, the care in every moment he’s been my Daddy—bathing me, reading to me, saving me.

“Cole, I…” I answer, unable to get my words out.

My anger crumbles, the rain soaking me through, and I see him. The man who fought for me, who loves me, not just as a Little but as a young man, and now an equal.

Cole’s words, his vulnerability, they’re a lifeline, stronger than my hurt, stronger than the betrayal.

I step forward, my voice small but certain.

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll come back,” I say, knowing in my heart this this feels right.

Cole exhales, relief flooding his face, and pulls me into his arms, Fizz pressed between us, the rain a pouring down on us like the most powerful shower head in the world.

The cab driver shrugs, toots his horn and pulls away.

“I guess that leaves you, me, and the motorcycle,” Cole says, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’ll need to hold on tight.”

“I think I’m going to enjoy this,” I say, my emotions tumbling out of me as I start to giggle and feel my eyes filling up with tears of happiness.

“Let’s just focus on getting back to the motel,” Cole chuckles. “We’ve got a lot to work on. Together this time.”

Cole leads me to the motorcycle, his hand warm in mine, his love a vow to rebuild our trust, to face the cartel, the danger, together.

The highway stretches dark and wet, but with my Daddy, I feel ready, my heart tethered to his, no matter what lies ahead…