Chapter 21 - Kate #2
Grumpy Daddy’s grip on my hand tightens.
“I want you to fight with me, Glitter Bomb. Publish the stories and blow the lid off this corruption for the whole city to see them for what they are. I’ve got plenty more victims with testimony if you want to share it.
You’re the only one I trust to tell it. But it terrifies me what might happen. ”
God, I want that. But I’m scared after meeting Barry.
“They’ve already suppressed my blog when I previously published articles.” My voice is small and reluctant. “I’ve spent three years building a version of myself strong enough to survive. I don’t know if I’ll survive this.”
He touches my face as if it’s the last damn time he’ll get the opportunity with what he’s about to say.
I move to sit on the ledge, the mountain wind tugging at my dress and hair, trying to strip my thoughts with it. Daddy doesn’t press me for answers or dissuade me. That’s not how he works. He watches, measures, and plans the way someone used to stakeouts and long hours in the shadows does.
“Say I do this,” I break the silence. “What’s the plan?” I’m a little too on edge to come up with one alone.
He takes a seat next to me. “First, we’ve got to look at how you publish your articles. Anonymous or under your name.”
I square my shoulders as the weight of this hits harder. “Anonymous authors won’t land well with the public. They’re easier to discredit. But a woman with a face, a past, that gets people talking.”
“It also paints a larger target on your back and makes it harder to maneuver in the shadows.” Grumpy Daddy’s guttural growl says he hates those words.
“They’ll dig and discredit you all over again, go after your family, file lawsuits.
There’s a good chance they’ll shape your assault as false allegations to rattle you.
Do you want to relive that, Glitter Bomb? ”
I pull my jacket tighter, bracing against the wind. “If I don’t put my name on it, I feel like I’m still hiding and letting them win.”
He exhales slowly, releasing the breath he’s been holding. He understands that all too well.
“They tried to destroy me once. This time I fight back.”
His hand crosses over his body to pull my face to lean on his. “Fuck, baby, you’re so brave.”
I cover his hand. “Are you saying I’ve got bigger balls than you?”
He chuckles low. “If anyone’s walking into battle bedazzled in rhinestone armor, dick swinging, it’s you, Glitter Bomb.”
I snort. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Grumpy Daddy’s thumb strokes my cheekbone. “They have no idea what’s coming.”
I let out a quiet hum of amusement. I love that he sees me. Knows I need humor amid the darkness.
I lean my head on his shoulder. “What else do I need for battle?”
His sigh suggests he’s been waiting for me to ask. “I’ve got people who can store backups of your digital files, hidden online as insurance. They’ll push your article through encrypted channels and spread it wide. Once people read it, this will be unstoppable.”
That settles that. Next topic. “How will I pay my bills? Clickbait doesn’t sell. I need advertisers.”
He clasps my hand and warms it between his thigh and palm. “Leave it to me. My people will funnel buyers to your book merchandise and move your brand like wildfire. But it must look organic. No ties back to my organization.”
“With what money?” I scoff. “I don’t have much in savings.”
He runs his fingertips along the back of my hands. “On the Romans’ dime. Consider it compensation from Blackthorn.”
“You’re on.” I love Grumpy Daddy’s dark little heart. “What about contingencies in case your people ghost me?”
“Smart.”
I love that he doesn’t fight me on that or try to convince me to put all my faith in him. Trust is earned, not promised.
“How about I move half your income into a company or personal LLC?” His voice switches from warm to clinical. “Low profile and minimal trace.”
His support means everything to me. “I don’t know much about investments.”
“I know a guy who happens to be the best,” Grumpy Daddy says. “They recruited him, he said no. They institutionalized him against his will, and he holds a heavy grudge.” His forefinger comes to my mouth. “And no, you can’t interview him. I won’t let you near him.”
I shimmy my shoulders. “Love it when you get all possessive and protective.”
“Bodyguard trope,” he teases, prodding his elbow into my arm.
I laugh and play with the button on my jacket. “Okay. But I want oversight over the paperwork.” I’m not going to give Grumpy Daddy all control. Certainly not over this.
“Then there’s the matter of personal safety.” Daddy crushes my hand, and I flinch. “Trigger-happy as your friend is, I don’t advise shooting up any trespassers on your property or who approach you in the street.”
I slouch. “You suck all the fun from life, Grumpy.”
He gives me the sucker punch. “I know a little about the law, and the Romans know how to twist it in their favor.”
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll resort to kicking in the balls and pepper spray.”
He eases his grip and lifts my hand, kissing the back of it with a press to his visor, shooting dull sparks up my arm. “If things get bad, I want you with me or in a safehouse. We can move you around, so they’ll never find you.”
“And Josh?” My voice breaks on his name. “I can’t leave him.”
“He comes. Non-negotiable. Unless you want to leave him with your mother.”
Relief cascades through my sternum. “Thank you.” I tackle the next big obstacle. “What about my mom and friends?”
“They’ll have to disappear with you.” His tone softens. “And that’s a bigger ask.”
My eyes burn at the price I have to pay. I wanted the stalker fantasy minus the political thriller danger. Not saying goodbye to my friends, family, and my whole goddamn life.
“Then we don’t let it get that far.” My voice hardens.
“You’ll need burner phones with encrypted comms.” He shifts back into operative mode like it’s second nature. “Travel bags packed. Cash hidden somewhere they won’t look. Both off-site if they come snooping.”
“God, there’s so much to this.” I rub my eyes.
Grumpy Daddy clasps my chin and forces me to peer into the dark, reflective surface of his helmet. “Glitter Bomb, we do this on my terms. No solo moves. I vet the source as a backup. I don’t want them planting false sources to discredit you.”
Shit. He really has thought this through.
His palm sweeps from my temple to my jaw. “I’m not trying to control you. I can’t protect you if we don’t work as a team.”
That’s fair. His specialty is espionage and warfare. Mine is dropping glittery truth bombs.
“The only way this works is if we trust each other,” I insist. “You can’t hide behind your mask forever when I’m putting my life in your hands.”
The weight of my pact sits heavy between us.
“Give me time, Glitter Bomb.”
I don’t push him further when he’s given me enough for one day, and I take that as a win.
“Last chance, Glitter Bomb.” My throat constricts at his dark growl. “Are you sure this is what you want?
I rub my aching forehead. “I thought I was seducing my stalker. Turns out, I’m enlisting with him to storm the gates of Hell.”
The only difference is, I’m not the girl cornered in the bathroom, robbed of her voice. This time, I’m the girl writing the headlines. The sniper with words, cutting down everything wrong in Shadow Lake.
“You want war, Glitter Bomb? You got me as your weapon.” He signs our pact in a blood promise.
“Mace is a weapon that breaks bones and delivers justice,” I say, stroking his forearm. “Grumpy Daddy is who you are when it’s just us. A man who will growl, feed me fruit, make me come so hard I forget my name, and make me feel safe. I like him better.”
He grips the back of my neck hard. “You say shit like that and wonder why I want to pin you against the bike and fuck you.” His fingers loosen but hold me in place. “You want Grumpy Daddy? He’s yours, Glitter Bomb.”
Rational me cusses me out for what I’m about to say next. Book Girlie me squeals and searches for her powder keg of explosive glitter.
“You make me safe, heard, and at peace,” I tell him. “I can finally breathe. I’ll be your weapon with words.”
“Fuck, Glitter Bomb,” he grits. “You make it impossible to walk away. Now I’m standing here trying not to lose my mind every time you’re in danger and be near you without dragging you under.”
A messy laugh spills from me. What the hell do you do when the man who’s been stalking you admits you unravel him? “If I have to burn with someone, I want it to be you. So long as there’s glitter in our autopsies and Celine singing at my funeral.”