Page 245 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

She’s let her Doms use her body, control her, give her the pleasure and pain she needs, but she’s never let them into the locked box of her heart. At a guess, she’s attracted to emotionally remote Doms because subconsciously she knows they’ll avoid attachment. When they disappoint her, it reinforces her belief that no one can be trusted with her heart.

Logan’s told me he thinks there’s a switch buried under Brenna’s submission, but the better I get to know her, the lessI think that’s right. She’s toppy with submissives like Emily and Cappa because she loves them. But she’s afraid of giving them too much of herself, so she controls their relationships, and never gives them a chance to hurt her.

I turn my head and kiss her forehead. She murmurs in her sleep.

“I won’t let you down again, sweetheart,” I whisper to her in the dark.

Brenna’s not what I’d call a morning person. If she’d been under my command, she’d have been one of those grunts who squinted at me during inspection, contemplating where they could stash my body after they gutted me, until they got coffee and some chow into them. This morning, instead of murder, there’s wariness in her eyes. She let me in last night and now she’s starting to rebuild her defenses.

I let her huddle under the covers while I use the bathroom. When I return, instead of getting back into bed with her, I offer her a bottle of water and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Real talk, girl.”

She gives me the murderous squint, which is more adorable than intimidating on her, but sits up in the bed and takes a sip of water before she says, “Real talk, sir.”

“I’m responsible for the deaths of eleven men. I can tell you their names and ranks, the dates they died, the names of their wives and girlfriends, parents and kids. They were my men. I was responsible for them and they died on my watch. Their faces, and the faces of their families, are the last faces I see at night and the first I see in the morning.”

Her jaw drops and all wariness, all irritation, leaves her eyes.

I take a deep breath and plow on. “Had I done things differently on the days they died, hell, if I’d taken longer over my morning coffee, they might still be alive. Time’s funny in battle. A few minutes, even a few seconds, can be the difference between those eleven men coming home to their families on their own two feet or in a casket.”

Bren closes her mouth. Her hand steals out of the covers, finds mine, and grips it.

“I’ve been told a hundred times that their deaths are not on me. I made the right call for the mission. I got the job done. I brought the rest of my men home safely. It’s easy to say, but I don’t think I’ll ever believe it in here.” I tap my chest with my free hand. “I’ll carry those eleven men with me to my grave. I’d like it if you could work them into my sleeves somehow. Maybe their names or something.”

“Of course, sir,” she whispers.

“That’s the worst thing I carry, Bren. There are other truths I’ll tell you when the time’s right, but that’s the worst. I don’t know if you told me your worst truth last night, but I want you to have mine, so you know I’m not hiding my shit from you. And that you’re not the only one with dark places in your past.”

“I—sir, I wouldn’t think that.”

“Good. I put some pieces together last night after you told me about Ruby and your girls. I want to share my thoughts with you, so you know where my head’s at and that I’m not judging you. Are you ready to hear what I have to say, or do you want some coffee first?”

Her eyes search my face. Seeking clues to what I want, because first and foremost, this girl wants to please. I smile gently so she knows I’m fine with whatever she chooses.

“I’m ready now, sir.”

I squeeze the fingers she has wrapped in a death grip around mine. “I’m going to say this once, so you understand that I knowthe difference between sympathy and pity. I’m sorry life dealt you a shitty hand when it came to your parents, but without their neglect, you might not have become the strong woman you are today. I’m sorry they didn’t protect you the way good parents should and that you had to grow up too fast and experience things a kid shouldn’t. But that experience has made you kind and tolerant of other people’s flaws in a way many people in this world just aren’t, Bren. So, I’m sorry about what you went through, but I’m not at all sorry about what it made you into. Do you understand?”

She nods and blinks rapidly. “Yes, sir.”

“I expect that being abandoned by your parents and bouncing around through the system without many good male role models and really only feeling safe with Mother Kay and Ruby and your girls left you thinking that men aren’t good for much. You like our dicks and what we can do with them, but outside the bedroom, men are a liability. You couldn’t count on your father or your foster fathers, so why the hell should you count on any of the men who come into your life ‘cause they’re just going to let you down in the end. Am I right?”

She swallows hard. “I-I guess.”

“And maybe the men who won’t be pinned down, the bad boys who play but won’t commit, they felt safe to you. You knew they weren’t reliable, so you never relied on them. You knew they’d eventually move on, so you never invested in them. You told me you go to the club, you do scenes, you get fucked, and you go home. That was fun for a while but it’s not scratching your itch anymore, is it?”

Her voice is firmer when she says, “No, sir, it’s not.”

“You need more, Bren. You’ve grown beyond what your shitty childhood taught you. You’re ready for an adult relationship with a man who is more than an interchangeable dick. And I would like to be that man. I’m probably not going tofeel safe to you. I’m going to push you out of your comfort zone. I’m going to demand things from you you’ve never given before. But I won’t let you down again. That’s why everything yesterday was about apologizing and starting over. That’s why I’ve started today with my worst truth, so you become my secret-keeper like I’ve become yours. I hope you don’t think any less of me, because I don’t think any less of you this morning than I did yesterday. You’re still my brave, beautiful, bold girl. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” She squeezes my hand. “But you’ve always felt safe to me.”

I lean in and give her a gentle kiss. “You are safe with me, Bren, whether it feels that way or not. I will always respect your safe word, but it’s more than that. I will always respect the gift of your trust. I know I fucked up with you once. Well, twice, if you count my stupid assumptions about what you were doing with Theo. That’s why I needed a reset yesterday, too. So, I can focus on what you need and not let you down again. Are we good?”

She pushes the bottle of water aside and flows into my arms. “We’re good, sir.”

“Good.” I take the minute to enjoy the warm press of her against my chest. Drink in the buttery scent of her hair. These are the moments that make the harder shit worthwhile. “I know you need to head in for eight. D’you have time for breakfast, bold girl?”