Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Lee
In my limited experience with Hope, not once had she been late.
At times, she might have come across as reluctant or unsure about pushing her boundaries into the unknown. But nothing about her had me thinking she’d be the kind of woman—or Little for that matter—who would play games by showing up late or bailing on a date altogether.
That, however, didn’t change the fact that she was supposed to meet up with us for breakfast fifteen minutes ago, and she wasn’t answering her texts or phone calls.
Worry churned in my gut as I tried ringing her once again.
Tyrell checked his watch. “You think she overslept?”
Perry was wiggling in his chair, his leg bouncing up and down anxiously. “I can go knock—”
“I’ll handle it,” I said more firmly than I meant to.
Inside, something had shifted. It wasn’t panic... yet. But I’ve always been a fan of following my gut instincts, and my gut was screaming at me that something big was wrong.
Even though it made absolutely no sense, because Hope had been bright at dinner last night.
Other than a brief moment of hesitation she had spent the evening laughing and flushed with something that could be described as nothing other than joy.
She’d seemed alive in a way that had made it impossible to keep my eyes off of her.
Maybe her no-show had to do with the Doms she was seeing, too.
Troy and Archie. I didn’t miss the way her voice had changed when she’d mentioned them.
She might be fighting with the fact that she had a Little buried inside her, begging to come out, and that meant that these Doms were a definite temptation that I wasn’t completely sure we’d be able to counteract.
Tyrell’s gaze met mine over the breakfast table. He didn’t need to ask what I was thinking.
If she’d decided something—
No.
I shut that down immediately. There was no point in speculating about something until we had all the facts.
Facts that we wouldn’t get if we stayed here, waiting.
“You know, little nuggie, she’s probably still sleeping,” Tyrell said to Perry, giving his hand a squeeze before placing a tender kiss on his brow.
“I’ll go check,” I repeated. “You two stay here in case she shows up.”
What I didn’t say out loud was... if she’d made a choice, I didn’t want her cornered by three sets of eyes when she had to say it.
My heart felt heavy in my chest as I made my way to her room. The hallway outside her door was eerily quiet.
I knocked once.
No answer.
I waited a few seconds before knocking again, softer this time. “Hope?” I called out through the door and was met with nothing but silence.
Then… the faintest sound.
A sob. I was sure of it.
My jaw tightened.
I knocked a third time, more insistently that time. “Hope. Open the door,” I ordered.
There was a pause long enough to scrape against my nerves before I heard some shuffling from the other side. Then the lock clicked and the door slowly opened.
And every defensive thought I’d built on the walk down the hall dissolved.
Her eyes were swollen, and the skin surrounding them was red and blotchy.
And her long, luscious lashes were clumped together from crying.
She was still in her pajamas, clutching the bear the Ranch was giving away to new visitors as if it were a lifeline.
Her lower lip trembled when she saw me standing there.
“Hey,” she said, and it came out wrecked, her voice all wobbly and cracked.
I stepped inside without waiting to be invited and shut the door behind me.
“Come here, sweetheart.” I pulled her into my embrace, and she moved immediately, her arms clutching at my sides as her weight settled against me.
I gathered her up, one arm across her back, the other cradling the back of her head, and she folded into my chest without resistance.
Another sob broke out of her, shattering my heart into a thousand pieces.
“What happened, little one?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head against me.
“Did someone hurt you?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
Another shake of the head, but this time she burrowed in even deeper.
“Is this about Troy and Archie?” I took a stab in the dark.
That made her flinch.
There it was. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. All she did was continue to cry, not so quietly into my chest as she clutched at my shirt. And that told me more than words would have.
I exhaled slowly. “Alright,” I murmured. “Everything is going to be okay, sweetheart.”
Her breathing was uneven. Shallow and on the edge of spiraling again.
I moved us deeper into the room and sat on the edge of her bed, pulling her onto my lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She curled into me, knees tucked up, bear trapped between us.
My hand moved into her hair, my fingers sifting through the soft waves, slow and steady. “Breathe with me,” I instructed softly. “Inhale, hold for a beat, exhale.”
She tried with me, but another sob moved through her body, and her crying started anew.
I tightened my hold just enough for her to feel it.
“You’re okay,” I said. “Whatever it is, we’ll sort it. But you’re okay.”
Her fingers fisted in my shirt.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, voice cracking.
Well, that was something at least. And it was certainly honest. “You don’t have to decide anything yet,” I replied.
Another sob wracked her body before the words tumbled from her lips. “I don’t want to be that girl anymore.”
My hand stilled for half a second. Was she saying—
“You don’t have to be anyone you don’t want to be,” I told her finally, refusing to give in to the spark of hope at her words.
As if those were the magic words she’d been waiting for, her crying finally slowed, turning into hiccups and then slow, exhausted breaths.
I kept the rhythm of my hand steady, brushing over her scalp, through her hair, and down her back.
Seconds moved into minutes and her weight grew heavier as her breathing deepened.
When I chanced a look down, she was fast asleep, clutching the bear to her chest.
Careful not to jostle her, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
I typed one-handed.
Lee:
I’m with her.
The reply came immediately.
Tyrell:
Is she okay?
I looked down at her swollen eyes.
“No,” I muttered quietly to myself.
Then adjusted so I had both hands on the screen.
Lee:
Not yet. Bring the softest blanket you can find. And if Perry doesn’t have a spare pacifier, get one from the gift shop.
Three dots appeared, paused, then bounced up and down on my screen again.
Tyrell:
Should I keep Perry away from the room, or can I bring him with?
I stared at the question longer than I should have.
Hope shifted against me, her face burrowing deeper into my chest as if even in sleep she was trying to hide.
Perry adored her. He might have his own issues, but he was everything I knew Hope could be if she just gave herself the chance.
And that was exactly what scared me.
Because what if she didn’t want that chance?
What if the reason she was spiraling wasn’t confusion—but clarity?
What if she’d already decided the three of us were a sweet distraction, and the men she’d been seeing before…
the Doms who could tie her up and make her squirm…
were what she truly wanted, and she just didn’t know how to tell us?
Her fingers tightened in my shirt even in sleep, like she was afraid I might disappear if she let go.
That didn’t feel like someone ready to walk away.
I typed back slowly.
Lee:
Bring him.
The dots appeared almost instantly.
Tyrell:
On our way.
I set my phone on the bed beside me and wrapped my arm around her again. She made a small sound—soft, wounded—and it went straight through me. “I’ve got you,” I murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She didn’t wake. But her breathing evened out and deepened. I let myself hold her tighter than I probably should have, because until she chose otherwise, she was ours.