Chapter 70
I ndie yawned as she sat in the recliner watching Hope sleep. Rock and Spencer had just arrived to switch over with him and Slade.
Their girl was running on fumes and Quaid hated it. She was still exhausted despite their best efforts to make more decisions for her, to coddle and take care of her.
Quaid had bitten his tongue over the weeks, not wanting to be too bossy or too dominant and ruin the fragile relationship building between them. The one that he’d wrecked.
He’d wanted to build her trust in him, not overwhelm her.
Holding back wasn’t easy for him.
But he got the sense that she needed some release. That she was bottling everything up.
And that maybe what she needed was a break from this place.
Crouching in front of her, he grasped hold of her chin and forced her to look at him.
“You’re coming home with me tonight,” he told her firmly.
Indie shook her head. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t. I have to stay with Hope. ”
“Spencer and Rock will stay with Hope. You need a break. You haven’t left the hospital in eight weeks. You need a break.”
“I don’t want a break. I’m her mama. I have to stay with her.”
“And we’re her daddies,” Spencer said. “Unless you don’t think that we can take care of Hope?”
It was surprisingly aggressive from Spencer. But right now, Indie needed firmness. And they could all see it.
“One night,” Quaid told her quietly. “That’s all I ask. You can have a bath and relax. I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to think or do anything. Just relax.”
“It doesn’t feel right to leave her.”
“Spencer and Rock will be here. They won’t take their eyes off her.”
“I promise,” Spencer said.
She gazed from Spencer to Quaid, chewing at her lip.
“Sometimes a break to recharge your batteries helps you better cope with everything,” Quaid told her. “You take care of yourself so you can take care of her.”
“All right. I’ll come home.”
Thank God.
Several hours later, Quad walked into the living room of their penthouse with a mug of hot chocolate for his girl, only to find she’d disappeared.
Frowning, he went searching for her.
The Christmas tree was still up, the presents underneath. They’d decided to postpone Christmas until Hope was home.
Moving down the hallway, he checked the bedrooms, then the playroom.
Where was she?
Setting the hot chocolate down on the table, he looked in the teepee.
Not there .
Fuck. Would she have gone back to the hospital on her own?
He was about to yell out for Slade when he realized the wardrobe door was open.
Could she be . . .
Walking over, he pushed the door open slightly. Surprise and sadness filled him as he found her huddled in the corner with Gary in her arms.
What should he do? Was she in Little headspace? He’d explained to her that he wasn’t a Daddy Dom. That he preferred to be Sir to Daddy. He didn’t think he had enough of the softer emotions to take care of a Little.
Then again . . . he also didn’t want to be an emotionless bastard all his life.
However, he wasn’t going to call Slade to come take care of her. Slade was giving the two of them some time to themselves which he was grateful for.
“Hey, baby girl.” Walking into the wardrobe, Quaid sat in front of her. “You okay?”
Dumb question.
Obviously, she wasn’t okay.
“I’m going to pick you up.” He lifted her into his lap and hugged her tight as she let out a protest. “I know it’s hard to be away from Hope. I know it’s scary. But she’s in good hands and frankly, right now, I’m more worried about you than her.”
Silence.
How to get her to talk?
Maybe she’ll talk if you talk.
Shit. Not his forte, but he’d try.
He rocked her back and forth. “When Spencer called and said you were being rushed to hospital, I thought I was going to lose my mind. I imagined the worst, that we’d lose you both. That one of you might die. I . . . I don’t think I could have gone on if I’d lost you, baby girl.”
She sighed, relaxing into him. “I’m still so scared.”
“I know you are,” he murmured, turning her to face him. He cupped her face between his hands. “But you have to look after yourself in order to look after Hope. We have to make sure that you get enough rest. That you’re happy. Or she won’t be.”
“How do I do that?” she cried. “I feel so numb.”
She did?
Shit. If anyone knew about feeling numb, it was him.
“I think I pushed everything deep just to get through it and now I can’t access any of it. I’m scared. Always scared. But I can’t seem to express it. I can’t get it out. It’s stuck inside me.”
She leaned forward and he rubbed her back. “What would help?”
“I don’t know.”
He hummed. “When I feel myself losing control, I go to the gym. But you want to lose control not keep hold of it, so you should . . .”
“Laze on the sofa and eat chocolate?”
He snorted. “You could do that. You could also spend some time in Little headspace? Your Little might be able to find those emotions. To relax.”
“Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know how to do that. And you won’t want . . . you won’t want that.”
He cupped her chin, giving her a firm look. “I want you no matter what. Little or Big. Submissive or bratty. Understand?”
“I’m never bratty,” she grumbled.
He had to smile. They’d see.
Indie stared up at him in amazement.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You are just so gorgeous when you smile.”
“Thank you, baby girl.” Leaning in, he kissed her nose. “I can handle your Little. More than that, I want to take care of her. Show me her. Do you think you can trust me with this?”
“I trust you with everything. But I’m not very good at slipping into Little headspace on my own; the guys usually help e.”
“How do they do that? ”
“By dressing me in a cute outfit, I guess. Calling me Little one, or having me call them Daddy or Da or Dada. Doing my hair.”
“We can do those things.”
“What would I call you, though?” she asked as her thumb crept up to her mouth.
“I don’t know. Is there anything you want to call me?” he asked.
A strange look came into her face. And he had a feeling he was going to regret saying that to her.
“How about Q-Q?”
“Q-Q? Really? It sounds like Coocoo. Like I’ve gone nuts. Actually, that could be apt.”
A ghost of a smile hit her mouth. Hell, he’d probably let her call him a cockwomble if it put a smile on her face.
Maybe.
“Come on, let’s see if we can find you a cute outfit and do your hair.”
Wow.
Who knew that Quaid had a secret talent?
“Q-Q, you’re really good at doing hair,” she told him, studying herself in the mirror.
She was wearing a cute pink-and-white-striped tracksuit with some pink fluffy socks. But the very best thing was her hair.
It was up in two high ponytails and secured with pompom hair ties. Then, at intervals down her ponytails, he’d tied other pompom hair ties.
“I love pompoms!”
“I know you do.” He smiled indulgently.
A spark of happiness filled her before it was washed away under a wave of something that felt like . . . grief? It was weird. Her emotions had been locked away tight these past two months but now they were fighting to get out .
Indie thought that if she could just break through that wall and get to them, she might feel lighter. More like herself.
“Come on,” Quaid said to her. “Let’s go find something to play with.”
She was trying.
He could tell she was. But nothing seemed to be helping.
His poor girl. She was so tired and desperate to let go and just play.
Maybe it was him.
Quaid placed his hand over hers as she half-heartedly colored in a picture of a squirrel running up a tree. They were sitting at the table in the playroom and he had some music playing quietly.
“Is it me?” he asked.
“What?” She raised her eyes to his face in surprise. He could tell she’d been thinking deeply. “What do you mean?”
“The reason you can’t relax and slip into Little headspace, is it me? Am I doing a bad job?” His voice was stiff and cool, although he didn’t mean it to be that way.
It was a defense mechanism.
He was thinking about seeing a therapist. He had unresolved issues with his father and it was time he faced them head-on rather than running from them.
“You? No, of course not. It’s me. I’m still numb. I’ve always done it, I guess. Pulled into myself when something bad happened for protection. But I don’t want to be like this anymore. I think I need to talk to my therapist again.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
She gave him a surprised look.
“About me,” he quickly added. “I was thinking that I need to speak to a therapist about my unresolved issues with my father. I want to find a way to become more expressive with my emotions. I’m a father now. I don’t want to mess up like my father did. ”
“You won’t,” she said, sliding off her chair to kneel in front of him. She took his hands in her smaller ones. “You are nothing like that bastard.”
“It’s a cycle,” he said quietly. “His father was a bastard to him, then he did the same to me. I don’t want to be like that and?—”
“And you won’t be,” she interrupted him. “I know you won’t be because of how much you love me. How much you love the guys. You would never harm us. And you would never harm our children.”
He cupped her cheek. “Still don’t think I deserve you.”
“Yeah? Well, ditto.”
Quaid narrowed his gaze at her. “I don’t like that.”
She huffed out a breath. “Well, it’s the truth. I have a lot of issues around self-worth. About being worthy of your love.”
“You are.” He lifted her onto his lap. “And I will tell you that every day until you believe it.”
“Ditto,” she said.
He nodded and kissed her. “What do you think we can do to help you right now?”
She squirmed on his lap. “I don’t know.”
Hmm. He didn’t quite believe that.
He thought she did know. And that she was lying.
“Are you lying to me, baby girl?” he said in a low, warning voice. “Because you know that’s not allowed.”
“I’m not.”
“Indie,” he said sternly.
“Well, if I’m lying to you then maybe you should spank me!”