Page 91 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Six
Ezra
The sun streams through the windows, effectively waking me from whatever good dream I was having. I stretch my arms above my head then grab my phone. Several notifications pop up but nothing from my little bird, so I decide to send her something.
Ezra:
Good morning, merlotta.
Our Italian heritage comes out strong with Wren near.
I’ve never given a name to a woman before, especially on the first date, but it just felt right.
Even with the bet, it’s different this time.
There is a connection I’ve never felt with anyone.
It makes me want to do anything and everything to claim her as ours.
As I wait for her to respond, I pull up the chat with the private investigator.
Ezra:
We got her last name. Preston. Wren Preston.
Jacobson:
I actually already got the information you needed and that’s not her real last name.
My heart races in my chest as I jump out of my bed and head to Eli’s room. Of course he’s still asleep.
“Wake up!” I bark, throwing a pillow at his head.
“What the fuck, dude?” he groans as he sits up. “Where’s the fire?”
“Jacobson got back to me. Meet me in my office.” I all but sprint to my office on the second floor just as my printer is spitting out a stack of papers. I grab them off the tray and start reading through everything.
Elijah walks in looking like a sleepy puppy and flops down on the couch. I toss the packet in front of him and he glances down before picking it up.
“What the hell is this?”
“That is our girl. Jacobson did his job well and fast.”
“Holy shit! She's from Nashville. She really is a long way from home.”
“Keep reading.”
“Fuck! She was dating a piece of shit. There are dozens of hospital reports and police records. He did a real number on her.” Elijah cringes as he tosses the packet on the table.
“She gave us a fake last name. I’m guessing so it didn’t get back to this douchebag.” I run my hand through my tousled hair as I pick up my phone.
Jacobson:
She left Nashville and moved to Chicago in the middle of the night three months ago.
Ezra:
Thanks for the info.
Jacobson:
Not a problem. I have a picture of this guy, and his name is Richard Baines. He was a cop in Nashville.
Ezra:
Send me everything you can find of him. I want to know everything.
Jacobson:
Got it.
I sit back, my mind racing with everything I just learned about our little bird.
A wave of protectiveness surges within me as I think about the pain she must have endured, the fear that still lurks in the shadows of her past. And then there's the man who hurt her, Richard Baines. I want to kill him.
I show Elijah the texts between Jacobson and me, knowing he’s going to want the same retribution.
“That’s where that scar came from. I just know it,” Elijah vows. “What’s the plan?”
“I don’t want her to know what we found. I want her to tell us in her own time. We just need to make sure he won’t come here. I’ll keep Jacobson on it.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, both lost in our thoughts.
The gravity of the situation weighs heavy on our shoulders, and I can’t shake the feeling of dread that settles in my gut.
I know we have to be cautious, to tread carefully, but my heart aches for Wren, and I can’t help but feel a burning rage toward the man who hurt her.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “We need to protect her, Elijah. We can’t let anything happen to her.”
“I agree,” he says, his voice grim.
“Jacobson just sent me his picture. Here.” I send the picture to him. “We need to know when he gets to town because I doubt he’s given up.”
“I can put this in the Storm software and it will alert us if this guy pops up on any CCTV in the city.”
“Good. Do that now.” I stand up and head to the windows, looking out over the city, the vibrant skyline a stark contrast to the darkness we've uncovered. I can't help but feel the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders, the need to keep Wren safe consuming me.
Elijah joins me by the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “We won't let anything happen to her, Ezra,” he says, his voice steady and resolute.
“We won’t.” I echo the words, a vow that resonates deep within my soul. We stand side by side, our resolve unwavering, as we stare out into the world beyond. We may have won the bet, but now we’re in for a fight, a battle to protect the woman we both care for.
“We need to know where she is at all times,” I vocalize “Does Phoenix Tech still have those small micro trackers?”
“I think so. What are you thinking?” Elijah eyes me curiously.
“You know exactly what I’m thinking. It’s the only way to keep her safe when she isn’t with us.”
“You know that’s illegal, right?” Elijah smirks.
I shoot him a look. “Do I look like a man that gives a shit?”
“Touché.” He laughs. “I’ll get dressed and head to the office to get them.”
Our phones chime at the same time and we both look down to see a message from our girl.
Wren:
Good morning to you both!
“I’m going to invite her over and we can go from there. Maybe she will open up to us more this time.”
“Sounds good.”
I want Wren here in our space. I want her to be comfortable with me and Eli. I want to know everything about her.
Ezra:
Get dressed, merlotta. I’m sending a car to bring you to us.
Wren:
You don’t waste any time, do you?
Ezra:
No.
Wren:
What if I had to work today?
Ezra:
Do you?
Wren:
No. But that’s not the point.
Elijah:
The point is, we can’t stop thinking about you and we have to see you again.
I roll my eyes at his input. He needs to be getting dressed, not texting.
Wren:
I already have plans to go to the park today, so I can come by later.
My blood boils thinking of her out in public, and her psycho ex looking for her.
Ezra:
I’m sure we can find something to do in the park as well. We’ll pick you up.
I know she lives above the coffee shop where she works because it was included in the information that Jacobson sent over. That place could be broken in by an amateur. Richard could get in there with no problem at all.
I won’t let that happen.
Wren:
Fine. But I don’t live far from the coffee shop.
Elijah:
I'm on the way now, Wren. I won’t take no for an answer.
Wren:
See you soon.
I shoot Eli a text before I jump in the shower.
Ezra:
Going to pick her up and take her to some park. I’ll send you the address.
I don’t wait for a response before I’m under the hot water.
The heat feels good as the hard pressure runs over my tight muscles.
We need to figure out a way to get her to move into the penthouse with us.
I won’t take no for an answer and neither will Elijah.
The issue we’ll face is that she doesn’t really know us yet, but we have to reassure her that it’s what we want without giving anything away.
After my shower, I quickly dress in jeans and a t-shirt before I grab the keys to the Audi T4 and head out. The drive to see Wren is quick and when I arrive, she is sitting outside under one of the umbrellas. Her silken, black hair blows in the wind.
She looks beautiful in a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. I want her to wear my clothes so I know she’s safe.
“Hey, you.” She smiles.
I can’t help but to smile back. “Hop in, little bird.”
She opens the door and slides into the seat next to me. She leans over and kisses my cheek, her lips lingering on my skin.
“I missed you,” she whispers as a blush creeps up her cheeks.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, and we stay like that for a moment, our breaths in sync, our hearts beating as one.
In that moment, I know I’m falling for her, and it’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before.
It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and everything in between.
“Where is Elijah?”
“He had to run to the office to take care of some things. He’s going to meet us,” I reply.
We pull apart, our eyes locked in an unspoken connection. I can see the depth of emotion in her eyes, and I know she can see the same in mine. It’s a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty, and it’s something I never knew I needed until now.
We sit there, just the two of us, in a bubble of warmth and intimacy, the world outside forgotten. I reach up and brush a stray strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her soft skin. She leans into my touch, her eyes closing as she savors the moment.
“Ready to go to the park, uccellina ?” I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper. She nods, her eyes opening to reveal a mix of happiness and nervousness.
I pull away from the curb and we’re quiet for a moment until Wren asks, “What does that mean? Uccellina ?”
I chuckle. “It means ‘little bird’ in Italian.”
“Little bird,” she repeats. “I like it.”
We pull into a parking spot at the park and I can’t help but feel on edge. There are too many people here. Too many unknowns. What if that fucking psycho shows up and tries to take her from us? Over my dead body will he ever lay a finger on her precious skin again.