Page 18 of Daddy’s Muse (Bloody Desires #12)

Colby

I sat stiffly in the chair across from the campus security desk, my fingers laced so tightly my knuckles ached.

The officer—a middle-aged man with a thinning hairline and a polite but detached expression—flipped through the clipboard I’d filled out about filing a complaint.

“So, you’ve noticed someone outside your window at night?” he asked, tone neutral.

“Yes,” I said. “And… I’ve gotten notes under my door. My things have been moved around—I think someone’s been inside my room when I wasn’t there.”

His pen scratched across the paper. “Any signs of forced entry?”

I hesitated. “No. But—”

“Any physical harm done to you?”

My stomach dropped. I shifted in my seat, heat rising to my face. “Not yet.”

“Then I’m afraid there’s not much we can do,” he said, sliding the clipboard aside like my life wasn’t hanging by a thread.

“Unless you’re hurt or we have concrete proof of a break-in, it’s hard to treat it as more than a misunderstanding or a prank.

This is a pretty rowdy campus, you know? These things happen.”

“A prank?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “Standing outside my window in the middle of the night is a prank to you? And—and all the other stuff—”

His mouth pressed into a line. “I’m just telling you the limitations of our authority. You might want to consider getting a security camera for your door, maybe some better locks.”

I stared at him. That was it. That was the grand solution. Wait to get hurt.

“I can’t get better locks—I live in a dorm. And also, don’t they already have cameras in the hallways?”

“Maybe call maintenance? I’m sorry we can’t do more for you.”

“With all due respect, sir, isn’t it your job to keep the campus safe? Even if it was a “prank”, the students involved should get in trouble for harassment or something!”

The man’s eyes went icy, and he spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a toddler. “Like I said, if you get hurt or acquire actual evidence of a break-in, we’ll start an investigation.”

By the time I left the security office, my hands were trembling so badly I could barely hold my phone. I didn’t even think—my thumb automatically found Bodin’s contact and hit call.

He answered before the first ring finished. “Colby?” His voice was deep, warm, and steady.

“They’re not going to do anything,” I blurted out, my voice thin and shaking. “Campus security just told me to get hurt first. That’s the only way they’d take me seriously.”

“Breathe,” he said, soft but commanding. “You’re safe right now, ja?”

I leaned against the brick wall outside the security building, my eyes stinging. “I don’t know. I… I keep looking over my shoulder.”

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you,” he murmured. “Why don’t you come to my place—just for a few days, until all this blows over?”

And I wanted to—God, I wanted to. But some part of me still clung to the idea that I could—I needed to—handle this on my own, that moving in with him wasn’t the only option left.

“Thank you for the offer, really. But I can get through this.” I took a deep breath. “I can’t just rely on you for everything.”

“I’m telling you that you can,” he countered, voice deep and resolute. “There’s no shame in letting someone take care of you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But if I run the second something bad happens, I’ll never stop running. I need to prove—to myself—that I can stand my ground. I’ve never stood up for myself before.”

There was a pause on his end, long enough for me to hear the faint tick of a clock somewhere in the background. “Standing your ground doesn’t mean standing alone,” he said finally.

I swallowed, guilt and stubbornness tangling in my chest. “I’m not standing alone. I have you… just not under the same roof. I’m not saying I don’t want you visiting me, but I can’t live with you. Not yet, at least. We only just got together, Bodin.”

Another pause, this one heavier. “Alright. But you keep me updated. Every night. Every morning. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll come find you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Pappa,” I murmured, my voice small.

“Good boy,” he said softly, and my shoulders loosened just a little. “Now tell me—what do you see around you right now?”

I blinked at the sudden shift. “Uh… the security building. Some trees. Students walking by.”

“None of them is a threat to you in this moment,” he said. “Your heart can slow down now. Breathe with me.”

And I did.

By the time we hung up, my hands had stopped trembling, but the knot in my stomach hadn’t gone away.

I was still being watched.

Still being hunted.

And the only person who made me feel like I could breathe was the same man who scared me in ways I didn’t dare name.

* * *

I was still nervous by the time I made it back to my dorm that night. I stood in the hall for a long moment, just staring at my door, wondering if something horrible was behind it, waiting for me.

I unlocked it slowly, holding my breath, and eased the door open. Flicking the light on, I went methodically around the room: closets—clear, desks—clear. I even slid open the bottom drawers of my desk, just in case—still clear.

Finally, I crouched down, pressing my cheek nearly to the floor, and peered under both of the beds—nothing.

A shaky laugh slipped out as I released the breath I’d been holding. I was fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

Totally not falling apart.

But as I straightened, my mind betrayed me, wandering somewhere it shouldn’t—somewhere warmer.

I imagined Pappa closing my door behind me, locking it with that heavy, purposeful sound it made.

His big, strong hands guiding me to bed, tucking me in, sitting on the edge of the mattress so close his thigh brushed mine.

I could almost hear his voice, low and certain, telling me I didn’t have to think anymore, didn’t have to be brave. I could just be small, safe, his .

The fantasy sank into my bones, making me dizzy.

I thought of what it would be like to take him up on his offer while I stripped the day’s clothes off and wiggled into my soft pajamas.

I curled up in bed and let myself pretend, just for a little while, that it was him keeping watch instead of the useless campus security man.

Pappa would never dismiss my fears or tell me that he couldn’t help unless someone hurt me first. No, Pappa would be my shield. I bet he had good locks on his doors. Evidently, I didn’t.

Sleep dragged me under as I thought of all the ways my Pappa could protect me.

* * *

When I woke, it was to a suffocating stillness. Not just the usual quiet of night, but something heavier.

Something was wrong.

My skin prickled before my brain could catch up.

I wasn’t alone.

I sat up slowly, phone in my shaking hand, my thumb hovering over 9-1-1. My ears strained for any sound—breathing, a shift of weight, the whisper of movement, anything —but all I heard was the thud of my own rapid heartbeat.

I flicked on the desk lamp, relaxing a bit when nothing appeared out of the darkness. On unsteady legs, I got out of bed and ran to the switch by the door. The overhead light clicked on, and again, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Everything was how I’d left it when I drifted off a few hours ago.

But then—because the itch between my shoulder blades wouldn’t let me stop searching until every blind spot had been cleared—I crouched and looked under the bed.

A dead crow stared back at me.

Its feathers were matted, its wings twisted unnaturally, one glassy black eye catching the light.

The sound that tore from my throat was somewhere between a gasp and a sob. My chest squeezed so hard I couldn’t get enough air, and my fingers had gone numb around my phone. I scrambled backward, hit the wall, then bolted for the door without thinking.

The hallway was too bright, too open, but I needed it to be that way.

I needed out. I needed out. I needed out. I needed out.

Out, out, out, out, out.

I didn’t even feel the cold at first—just the slam of my bare feet against the dorm stairs, the harsh fluorescent lights and concrete walls of the stairwell blurring past as I half-ran, half-stumbled down.

My breath came in jagged gasps that scraped my throat, my chest so tight I could barely get air in.

The night air hit me like a slap when I shoved through the door leading outside. My skin prickled, goosebumps breaking out along my arms and legs, but I couldn’t stop. The pavement was rough under my soles, each step jarring, almost painful, but it didn’t matter. I just had to get away.

I didn’t even remember taking my phone with me until it was suddenly in my hand. My thumb hit Bodin’s contact automatically. The line rang once, twice, then—

“Colby?” His voice was deep and alert. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

I tried to answer, but all that came out was a broken whimper. My vision was swimming, every breath a desperate fight.

“Colby,” he said, concern growing, “talk to me—are you hurt?”

“N-no—” The word cracked in half. I doubled over, gripping the phone like it was the only thing tethering me to the earth. “B-bed—I-I—hnnn.” My voice broke into sobs.

“What?” He sounded sharper now, but not angry—focused. “Colby, I can’t understand you. Where are you?”

“I—outside—” I was gulping air, trying to force the words out between shuddering breaths.

“I’m coming to you right now,” he said, with no hesitation. “Listen to me, baby. Look for one of those blue safety lights. Do you see one?”

I spun, dizzy, scanning the stretch of campus lit by scattered lampposts. A faint blue glow shimmered at the far end of the sidewalk, past the bike racks.

“Y-yeah—”

“Go sit under it and don’t move until I get there. I mean it, Colby. You stay put. And if anyone tries to approach you, press the big button on the side of the post. It’ll notify the police and give them your location.” His tone left no room for argument. “I’m not even five minutes away.”

I swallowed, tasting metal, my body still trembling as I forced my legs to move toward the blue light.

It painted my skin a cold, unreal shade, the world beyond it swallowed in darkness.

I curled into myself on the concrete, my back against the pole, clutching the phone to my ear like I could absorb his voice straight into my bones.

“Good,” Pappa said quietly now, but there was still steel beneath it. “I’ve got you. Just breathe for me, baby. I’m almost there.”

The sound of tires crunching over gravel made my head snap up after I’d spent an unknown amount of time zoned out. A black SUV pulled to the curb, headlights cutting through the blue haze. Pappa was out before the engine even stopped, moving towards me fast, his expression tight with worry.

“Colby. Oh, elsklingen min. Er du skadet? La meg se. Faen .” His hands were on my face before I could think, thumbs brushing over my damp cheeks. “You’re freezing. Gods, you’re shaking.”

I tried to say something, anything, but my throat locked up. The sob caught halfway, and I just ended up making this pathetic noise against his chest when he pulled me in.

“Shhh,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve got you, Colby. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

My bare toes curled against the cold concrete as he guided me toward the SUV. He opened the passenger door, lifting me in and tucking me against the seat before shutting the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Breathe,” he said once he was in, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching to squeeze my knee. “Slow it down for me, in and out.”

I tried.

I really did. But every time I blinked, I saw it again—black feathers, glassy eye, the stiff curve of claws. My skin crawled, bile threatening to climb up my throat. My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped my phone.

Pappa’s gaze softened, but his voice stayed firm. “You’re not staying there tonight. I’m not sure what happened, but if it made you this way, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back in there.”

“B-but I-I have class tomorrow—”

“We’ll figure that out later. It’s not what’s important right now. You’re coming home with me. We’ll gather some of your belongings and head home. End of discussion.”

Some tiny, rational part of me knew I should argue, but I just nodded. It was easier. Safer.

I looked out the window, unsure of how far I had run from the dorm. It looked pretty far away. Pappa drove to the parking lot behind my dorm and parked the car, looking at me for a long moment before shutting off the engine.

“Stay here. Lock the doors when I get out and don’t unlock them for anyone but me. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I nodded again, fumbling for the lock button the moment he got out.

The click of it settling in place made me feel a little less exposed, but not by much.

My knees curled up toward my chest. My thumb found my mouth before I even realized what I was doing, the salty tang of my skin grounding me just enough to keep the panic from spilling over again.

I rocked a little, humming under my breath, the world outside the tinted windows blurring in my peripheral vision. Somewhere deep down, I knew I looked pathetic. Childish. But I couldn’t stop.

A few minutes later, I saw Pappa walk out of the building. I unlocked the door, and he slid in, a duffel bag hitting the backseat with a soft thud.

“Okay, I picked up a few things I thought you might need. If I missed anything, then you’ll just use what I have at home,” he said, starting the engine again. His eyes flicked to me—seeing the way I was curled up—and something unreadable passed over his face.

As I continued sucking on my thumb, Pappa’s eyes melted, and he reached backwards for my bag.

“Here,” he said as he pulled Steve to the front and onto my lap. “Thought you’d like having your buddy.”

I squeaked a semblance of thanks and hugged my stuffie to my chest.

“Let’s get you home, little one,” he murmured.