Chapter 23
Holden
C ordelia had taken Ivy’s place in the oversized armchair, with her girl snuggled on her lap. It was jarring, seeing the usually unflappable Cordelia so shaken, her color still not quite where it should be as Ivy forced tea down her throat.
Gently taking the cup from Ivy’s hand, Cordelia set it aside. “I’m all right, blossom. You can stop fretting.”
“Fretting?” Insult spiked Ivy’s voice, sharpening in a way that had everyone’s eyes widening in response. “I am not fretting. I’m taking care of you. Which is my job .”
“You’re right.” Running her hand over Ivy’s hair, whether to soothe herself or her girl, Holden wasn’t sure, Cordelia spoke in low, hushed tones. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m still a little shaken but I’m okay. I promise.”
“No, you’re not. We’re going home and you’re going straight to bed.”
Despite the heaviness of the moment, Cordelia’s lips twitched. “Someone has forgotten who gives the orders in this relationship.”
Color rose to Ivy’s cheeks and her fingers lifted to flit across the multi-colored flower at her throat. “Sorry. I’m just worried about you.”
“I know. And I love you for it. We can talk about your bossiness later,” Cordelia teased, giving Ivy’s hair a gentle tug before turning her attention back to Holden, her expression sobering once more. “I suppose you feel you need the whole story, now.”
“I don’t.” Though he’d have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t dying of curiosity. It was in his nature, and part of what made him so damn good at his job to want all the facts, especially when faced with a security threat. But getting into the gritty details, at least right now, wouldn’t help him protect her. “I know enough to put some extra guards in place, and we can talk about a private detail for you and Ivy when you’re feeling a bit better.”
Cordelia visibly relaxed, gratitude flashing in her green eyes. “I appreciate that. It’s… difficult for me to talk about.”
“Understood. I do need to know, do you have any reason to think they’re targeting you?”
“No.” Shaking her head, Cordelia blew out a long, shaky breath. “Now that the panic has passed, I feel pretty confident they don’t know I’m here. I’ve changed my hair, my name, pretty much everything about myself.”
“Would you feel comfortable coming into my office tomorrow and looking at some pictures? Seeing if you recognize anyone? If there’s anyone in this group you can tie back to any criminal behavior, we’ll have a better chance of getting the actual police involved.”
“I can do that, but I doubt I’ll recognize anyone. Odds are, this is an entirely different group than the people I grew up with. It would be like asking a Baptist from Oklahoma if they know anyone at a church in Alabama. Possible, but it would be a wild coincidence.”
“Fair enough. I’d like to cover all our bases, either way.”
“I understand. I’ll take a look at whatever you need me to, as long as I don’t have to actually be in the same room as any of them.”
“Nope. Just pictures.” For now, anyway. Any group that was capable of putting that level of fear and paranoia into a woman as strong as Cordelia Summers likely had a history. And if he could find any evidence of criminal activity, he might need Cordelia’s testimony to help shut them down for good.
That was a bridge to be crossed when they came to it, however, so he didn’t press the issue. The party broke up pretty quickly after that, as nobody really seemed much in the mood for socializing after learning that someone they all cared about was potentially in danger.
As they made their way to their respective cars, he caught sight of Cordelia and Ivy out of the corner of his eye. The former had her babygirl pressed up against the side of their car, her fingers tangled in Ivy’s careful curls, both of them lost in the kiss they shared.
Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he was comfortable with, though he’d spent a lot of time courting it since he’d met his little siren. Usually it was the bright, furious kind sparked by watching her flirt with some Dom at the club.
This was something different. It still felt like jealousy, but it ran so much deeper. More of an ache in his gut than a spark of fury in his chest. It was a longing for something he’d thought he’d had, something that was somehow both right within his reach and just out of it.
Turning away from the scene at the car, and his own heartbreak, he looked over to find Frankie waiting for him by his own SUV, leaning back against it, her bright red hair a flame around her heart-shaped face as she stared down at her phone. Her mouth was turned down in a slight frown as tapped out a message.
A lover, perhaps? Maybe she’d put up a profile on one of those dating apps. The thought brought with it more than the pang of jealousy. It brought grief, the kind that made him wonder what the hell he’d been thinking by telling her he wanted to put the brakes on the romantic part of their relationship.
Ignoring the jumble of emotions tangling in his chest, he made his way over to the car to open her door for her. She barely glanced up, mumbling a “Thanks” as she climbed in the passenger seat and reached for her seatbelt.
That’s Daddy’s job. The words stuck in his throat. It was a protocol they’d established from the very beginning of their relationship, the first night he’d picked her up at a nightclub and brought her home with him.
But even though he was still, technically, her Daddy, it felt far too intimate to enforce now. If she wanted to set her own boundaries, keep her own distance from him, it wasn’t fair for him to insist differently.
Closing the car door, he blew out a breath, silently berating himself for being an idiot, and made his way around to the driver’s side door.
Frankie
She really should have known better.
Before they’d left for Ice and Silver’s house, she’d texted her mother, hoping whatever maternal instincts Delphine had might kick in and she’d be able to talk some sense into Frankie’s father.
No such luck.
MOM
Your father and I already discussed this, Francesca. If you aren’t going to at least make an effort, then we have no choice but to cut you off. We’ve spoiled you far too much already.
Spoiled? When? Where? Every fucking thing she’d ever gotten from them she’d had to earn. Even her rehab had come with so many strings attached she could have knitted herself a sweater from them.
FRANKIE
I am trying. But there’s nothing I can do until next semester anyway. I just need a little time.
MOM
You’ve had plenty of time and you’ve done nothing but waste it. Our decision is final, Francesca.
Lowering her phone to her lap, she turned her head to stare out the passenger side window, praying Holden wouldn’t see her tears. God knew she’d put him through enough lately, and now he had even more to worry about with Cordelia.
Who the fuck would have guessed the strong, take-no-shit-from-anyone badass Domme had escaped a cult? At least, that was what Frankie assumed had happened. It seemed to be heavily implied, though Cordelia hadn’t actually told them the whole story.
Guilt stabbed at her chest. How awful was she, worrying about losing access to her parent’s fortune, when one of her friends was facing so much worse?
Maybe she was as spoiled and selfish as her parents said.
That thought plagued her as they drove home, draped in a heavy silence that seemed to confirm her darkest thoughts. Holden wasn’t talking to her, because he’d also realized what a spoiled brat she was and he couldn’t stand to even look at her.
At home, she headed for their bedroom, pausing halfway up the stairs when she realized he wasn’t behind her. Turning, she met his dark gaze from where he’d stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“I need to make some calls. You go on to bed, I don’t know what time I’ll be up.”
“Oh. Um, okay. Night, then, I guess.”
“Night, Frankie.”
Frankie . Not baby or little siren or even Francesca. She usually loved her nickname, mostly because it drove Delphine crazy, but now it just made her want to cry.
And since she didn’t want to give him yet another reason to worry about her, she swallowed the tears and turned to make her way upstairs. But the moment she stepped into the bedroom they’d been sharing since her first night there, it felt wrong.
He’d asked her for space. Asked her to keep things platonic until she figured her shit out. And while he hadn’t told her he didn’t want her sleeping in his bed, how was that keeping things platonic? It had to make things difficult for him, to have her in his space so much when they weren’t actually fucking.
This, at least, was something she could do. A positive, proactive action that might ease some of his suffering. Moving around the room, she gathered up all her clothes and carried them down the hall to the guest room. It took multiple trips, including one final one to the bathroom for all her toiletries, but she managed it.
Standing in the middle of the sparsely decorated room, she looked around, trying to dredge up a sense of pride in herself for doing the right thing. But all she managed to conjure were pangs of loneliness and grief at the thought of spending her nights alone. Shoving those feelings to the side, she changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, ones that didn’t smell like her Daddy, and climbed into bed.
Alone.
Holden
It was well after midnight before he finally forced himself to shut the computer down for the night. He’d added a guard for the back entrance of the club, as well as rotations inside the club during peak hours. His teams were already stretched thin, too thin for him to have someone inside constantly the way he would like, but he’d just take on the shifts he didn’t have coverage for since he spent most of his free time there, anyway.
Or he had before he’d gotten that fateful call from his babygirl. But he didn’t think she’d mind spending time with her friends at the club, and if she didn’t want to come with him some nights, that was okay, too. He was supposed to be giving her space, letting her make her own choices about their relationship.
As much as it grated.
He’d also sent Cordelia an email with a proposed time for their meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss private security for her and Ivy. Instinct told him he’d have a fight on his hands since he planned on suggesting they both take a leave of absence from the club until everything got worked out. It was a compromise, as far as he was concerned, since his initial thought had been to move them both to a safe house until the threat was neutralized.
But Cordelia wouldn’t see it as a compromise, and he would need his wits about him if he had any hope of talking her into doing what was necessary to keep herself and Ivy safe. Which was why he was shutting everything down now and getting at least five solid hours of sleep so he could be refreshed and ready to do battle with the fearsome Domme tomorrow.
Bleary-eyed, he climbed up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Frankie. Even if they weren’t sleeping together in the carnal sense, he still loved falling asleep and waking up with her in his arms. Or, as the case often was in the mornings, waking up flat on his back with her sprawled across him.
But when he stripped down and climbed into bed, reaching for her, his hands found only cold mattress.
Where the hell was she?
Catapulting himself out of bed, he snatched up his phone to check the house security for the past few hours. There was no record of any doors or windows opening, which meant she was in the house somewhere.
Downstairs, maybe. Sometimes when she couldn’t sleep she’d go watch tv until she got sleepy. More than once she’d fallen asleep on the couch and he’d had to carry her up the stairs to his room. He should have checked there just to be sure before heading upstairs.
But she wasn’t there. Or in the kitchen. Or in any of the other rooms downstairs, so he headed back up, worry starting to wend its way around his chest as he double checked his bedroom and the attached bathroom.
He finally found her sprawled face-down in one of the guest bedrooms, her covers tangled around her legs, letting him know she wasn’t sleeping peacefully. What the hell was she doing in another room?
A quick, silent check of the drawers and the closets had his stomach sinking to his knees. She’d moved all of her things out of his room.
Because she wanted even more space? Because she was moving on already? Because she’d realized she didn’t really love him after all and she was just staying with him because she needed his discipline?
If the latter was true, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep going like this. Being her platonic Daddy for a brief period of time was one thing. But being her Daddy, only to lose her to someone else in the end?
He wasn’t sure he’d survive that outcome.
For the first time, he found himself truly contemplating the possibility that Frankie might not choose him. When he’d originally told her he wanted to pause their romantic relationship, it had always been with the assumption that she would be his in the end. It had honestly never been a possibility in his mind that he could lose her.
Fighting back the rising waves of panic in his chest, he turned and left the room, pulling the door mostly shut behind him before returning to his cold, empty bed and trying to sleep.
Alone.