Chapter 12
Connor
The West Quay sun is high, baking the boulevard in a golden haze, but the tension from the situation that I find myself in alongside Luke is still in the air.
I’m walking side by side with the boy, closer than we’ve been since this gig started, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps. His backpack bounces lightly, Swift’s orange beak poking out, and his hair shimmers with each stride, catching the light.
He’s quieter now, less defiant, but I can still feel that stubborn streak humming under the surface, ready to flare up if I push too hard.
But the spanking, the aftercare, the talk—it’s shifted something between us. Not trust, not yet, but a crack in his armor. I’m determined to widen it, for his safety and, if I’m honest, for something more personal I’m not ready to go there with.
We’re headed to the diner for his meet with the finance office guy, apparently a nervous type who claims he’s got receipts tying Haynes’s campaign to cartel money. I’ve scoped the place—small, open layout, two exits, minimal cover for anyone trying to pull something.
It’s as safe as West Quay gets, which isn’t saying much with a cartel hit list hanging over Luke’s head.
He’s agreed to my rules for now—no solo outings, full disclosure on his sources—but he’s still holding back that flash drive.
I can see it in the way he clutches his backpack, like it’s the key to this whole thing.
I let it slide, for now.
Pushing too hard could make him bolt again, and I’m not risking another stunt like this morning. The very fact that he attempted to sneak out once is enough to make me know that he could try it again—even if it means risking an even harder spanking.
Luke glances at me, his eyes softer than usual, and I catch a hint of that Little side peeking through, all curious and unguarded.
“You’re not gonna barge into the diner like some action hero, right?” Luke says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I need this guy to talk, Connor. I need him to feel safe with me.”
I smirk, keeping my pace steady.
“No action hero, Little Scoop,” I say. “I’ll hang back, keep eyes on the exits. But you stick to the plan—get in, get the info, get out. No wild shit.”
Luke rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips, and it’s doing things to my chest I don’t want to dwell on.
“Deal, Bossyguard,” Luke says, and I chuckle, the nickname starting to grow on me.
He’s different today, less prickly, and I’m not fooling myself—it’s because of the spanking, the way I took care of him after. It’s cemented something, put in place a dynamic I didn’t plan but can’t ignore.
My Daddy side is coming to life, wanting to protect him, guide him, maybe more, but I keep it locked down. This is a mission, and I’m a Guard first.
We pass a street performer juggling some neon balls, the crowd clapping as the squishy balls fly and dance in the air. Luke pauses, his eyes lighting up, and for a second, he’s all Little, pure and unguarded.
“That’s so cool,” he says, almost to himself, and I can’t help but smile.
He’s a damn contradiction—fierce journalist one minute, wide-eyed Little the next. It’s messing with my head, making me want to scoop him up and shield him from the world, but I know he’d hate that. He’s got fire, and I respect it, even if it makes my job harder.
“You ever think about doing something else?” Luke asks suddenly, glancing at me as we keep walking. “Like, not being a top secret bodyguard? You know, chasing bad guys all the time? Getting shot at?”
The question catches me off guard, and I hesitate.
My first instinct is to brush it off, keep it professional, but something in his eyes—open, curious—makes me want to give him more.
Maybe it’s the way he’s walking closer, the way he trusted me enough to spill about his sources this morning. Maybe it’s that spark from three years ago, still crackling despite everything.
I decide to open up, just a little, to see if it’ll help him trust me more…
“Funny you ask,” I say, my voice low, thoughtful.
“My first team leader in the Guard—he was a hell of a guy. Honor, guts, a real sense of justice. Saved my ass more times than I can count. He taught me everything—how to read a room, spot a threat, keep a client alive when the odds are stacked against you. I wish he was still around in the Guard. But he had this thing about wanting to do more, you know? Not just protect one person at a time, but change things, make the world better for everyone.”
Luke’s listening, his steps slowing, his eyes locked on me.
“What happened to him?” Luke asks, his voice soft, like he senses there’s more to the story.
I shrug, keeping my tone casual, but my mind is on Robert Treach, the man who shaped me into the Guard I am.
“He quit,” I say. “Walked away from the Guard because he wanted to help on a bigger scale. Said he couldn’t keep patching up one life at a time when the system was broken.
Last I heard, he was doing something big, something that’d reach more people, expose the kind of corruption we were always fighting against.”
I don’t say Robert’s name, don’t tell him he’s his boss, the guy who built Justice Heart News from the ground up.
Luke doesn’t need to know that—not yet. But I see the way his face softens, his journalist side connecting with the story, his Little side drawn to the idea of someone fighting for the greater good.
“That’s… kind of beautiful,” Luke says, his voice quiet. “He sounds like someone I’d want to meet. Someone who’d get why I’m doing this.”
My chest tightens, and I nod.
“Yeah. He’d get you, Luke,” I chuckle. “That fire you’ve got, that need to dig up the truth? He had it too. Still does, I bet.”
I pause, glancing at the boy, and see the way his eyes glisten, like he’s seeing me in a new light. It’s working—he’s softening, letting me in, and I know this is the key. Opening up, showing him I’m more than just a bossy bodyguard, will make Luke trust me, make him listen.
From a professional standpoint, it keeps him safe.
From a personal one… well, I’m not ready to go there.
“Come on,” I say, breaking the moment before it gets too heavy. “You’ve been a good boy so far today, Little Scoop. How about we grab some ice cream before your meet? Plenty of sprinkles, just for you.”
His face lights up, a full-on Little grin that makes my heart skip.
“Sprinkles? Oh my gosh, yes!” Luke squeals, bouncing on his toes, Swift’s beak bobbing in his backpack. “Can we get rainbow ones? Please, Bossyguard?”
I laugh, a real laugh, and it feels good, like a weight lifting from my shoulders.
“Rainbow sprinkles it is,” I say, steering us toward a gelato shop I spotted earlier, its colorful sign promising every flavor under the sun. “But you stick close, and we’re still hitting that diner on time. Deal?”
“Deal!” Luke says, his voice all bubbly, and I can see his Little side surging, bright and unrestrained.
It’s like the sun breaking through clouds, and I’m struck by how much I want to see more of it, more of him like this—happy, carefree, not weighed down by cartels and hit lists.
My Daddy side is roaring, wanting to keep that smile on his face, to reward him for being good, for trusting me even a little.
It’s strategic—good behavior gets rewards, builds trust, makes him more likely to follow my rules. But it’s also personal, and that’s a line I’m walking too close for comfort.
We reach Gino’s Gelatos, and I hold the door open, letting him skip inside.
The AC hits us, cool and sweet with the scent of sugar and fruit. Luke’s practically vibrating, his eyes darting over the display case—chocolate fudge, mango sorbet, something called unicorn swirl.
“Oh, this is gonna be so good,” Luke says, clutching his hands together like it’s grounding his Little side.
“Pick your poison,” I say, leaning against the counter, my eyes scanning the shop. It’s quiet, just a couple of tourists and a bored-looking cashier. No threats, but I’m still on edge, my Glock tucked under my jacket. “But make it quick. We’ve got a schedule.”
Luke pokes out his tongue, all playful defiance, and orders a double scoop of unicorn swirl with extra rainbow sprinkles.
I get a single scoop of coffee gelato, no frills, and we settle at a table by the window, where I can keep an eye on the street.
Luke digs in, his spoon piled high with sprinkles, and lets out a happy hum that makes my chest ache.
“This is the best,” Luke says, his voice muffled around a mouthful. “Thanks, Connor. You’re not totally bossy all the time.”
I smirk, licking my gelato, and raise an eyebrow.
“Don’t get used to it, boy,” I say. “You’re still following my rules.”
Luke giggles, a sprinkle stuck to his lip, and I fight the urge to reach over and wipe it off. That connection from earlier is still there, humming between us, and I know he feels it too.
The way he’s looking at me, all soft and open, is dangerous. It’s making me want things I shouldn’t—things like him curled up in my lap, not just as a client but as my Little.
No. Keep yourself focused.
Mind on the job.
Anything else is just noise.
I shove the thought down, focusing on my gelato, on the mission.
The boy is opening up, trusting me more, and that’s what matters. It’ll keep him safe, keep him obedient, and maybe, just maybe, get him to hand over that flash drive.
“So,” Luke says, his spoon pausing, his eyes curious again. “That team leader guy. Did you ever see him again? After he quit?”
I hesitate, my spoon halfway to my mouth. Robert’s face flashes in my mind—gruff, intense, the kind of man who’d take a bullet for you and then lecture you about it.
“Nah,” I say, keeping it vague. “He went his own way, built something big. But I owe him a lot. He’s why I’m good at this, why I don’t give up on clients, even when they’re a pain in the ass.”
Luke laughs, his Little side sparkling, and it’s like a punch to the gut.
“I’m not that much of a pain,” Luke says, but his grin says he knows he is. “You’re kinda okay too, Bossyguard. For a big grump.”
“Grump, huh?” I say, leaning forward, my voice teasing. “Keep talking, and we’ll see how grumpy I can get.”
Luke sticks out his tongue again, and I laugh. This is working—opening up, rewarding him, showing him I’m more than just a bodyguard. He’s trusting me more, and I can see it in the way he’s sitting, relaxed, his guard down just a fraction.
We finish our gelato, Luke licking his spoon clean with a satisfied sigh.
“Ready for the diner?” I ask, standing and tossing our cups in the trash.
“Yup,” Luke replies, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Swift’s beak bouncing as ever. “Let’s go nail Haynes.”
I nod, my hand brushing Luke’s back as we head out, a protective gesture I don’t overthink. He doesn’t pull away, and that’s progress. As we step back into the sun, I feel that connection again, stronger now, and I know I’m in deeper than I should be.
But for now, I’m his Daddy, his Guard, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe—and maybe keep him smiling too…