Chapter 18
Teddy
Skeet and I are sitting at our usual corner table in the little café near my apartment, the one with the mismatched chairs and the best strawberry smoothies in the neighborhood.
I’m halfway through my protein bowl, poking at the granola while Skeet chatters about a new song he’s working on, when the bell above the door jingles.
I look up out of habit.
My spoon freezes mid-air.
Kirill and Bobby walk in together.
For a second, the whole café seems to tilt. Kirill looks exactly like he always does—devastatingly handsome and a little scary too. Bobby is beside him, looking alert but calm. Their eyes find me almost immediately.
My heart does a wild flip, relief crashing into shock and then into a rush of complicated feelings I still haven’t sorted out.
Skeet follows my gaze and lets out a quiet “Ohhh…” under his breath.
Bobby gives me a small, knowing smile and immediately takes Skeet’s arm. “Come on, Skeet. Let’s go order something at the counter. I want to try that fancy matcha thing I’m guessing you know all about.”
Skeet catches on fast, shooting me a supportive wink as he lets Bobby steer him away. “Sure! Gossip can wait.”
Suddenly, it’s just Kirill and me.
He walks over and stops beside the table, his presence filling the small space in that commanding way that always makes my stomach flutter. Up close, I can see the faint tension in his jaw and the shadows under his eyes. He looks tired, but still impossibly steady and commanding.
“Teddy,” he says, voice low and calm. “My boy.”
I swallow hard, setting my spoon down. “I’m… really relieved to see you. I was worried. Pissed too. But we do need to talk. No excuses this time. We need to lay it all out… everything.”
Kirill nods without hesitation. “Agreed. But let’s go for a walk. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere we can move freely and avoid any over eager ears.”
Kirill offers his hand. I take it, and the moment our fingers touch, that familiar spark races up my arm…
He’s Daddy.
We leave the café together, crossing the street and stepping into the small park opposite. The moment we’re on the grass, Kirill’s hand tightens around mine, guiding me gently but possessively along the winding path.
I feel it instantly, that surge of safety.
Protected. Like nothing in the world can touch me while he’s holding my hand.
His grip is warm and strong, his stride confident.
For a few beautiful seconds, I let myself sink into the feeling.
This is what being with Kirill does to me.
He makes me feel small and cherished and shielded from everything scary.
But it’s not that simple.
As we walk deeper into the park, surrounded by trees and the distant sound of children playing, I squeeze his hand and find my voice.
“I don’t know if I want to know more about your business life,” I admit, the words tumbling out.
“Part of me is terrified of what I might hear. But at the same time… things can’t carry on like this.
The silence, the secrets, the way you disappear and I’m left wondering if you’re even okay. I can’t keep doing that.”
Kirill slows our pace, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.
“I know,” he says quietly. “And I understand. There are two Littles in similar situations… boys who are with men like me. It might help you to meet them. To talk openly, without me there if you prefer. They can give you a clearer picture of what this life really means.”
I look up at him, surprised by how thoughtful the offer is. “Yeah,” I whisper. “That could work. Thank you… for not trying to force me into any quick decisions. That means a lot.”
Kirill stops walking and turns to face me fully. His free hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb stroking gently. “I would never dream of forcing you, my darling little one. Your safety and your happiness are the only priorities that matter to me.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten.
Before I can overthink it, I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his. Kirill meets me halfway, kissing me slow and deep, one arm sliding around my waist to pull me closer. For a moment the world narrows to just us—his warmth, his strength, the way he kisses like he’s claiming every part of me.
Then the sharp crack of a gunshot splits the air.
A bullet whizzes past us, close enough that I feel the air displace near my ear.
I scream in pure terror as panic fills the park.
Kirill reacts instantly. His arm tightens around me like iron as he spins us, shielding my body with his own while pushing me forward.
“Run!” he roars, voice sharp and commanding.
Kirill guides me quickly across the grass toward a small wooden maintenance hut.
Another shot rings out, this one hitting the ground somewhere behind us and sending up a spray of dirt.
My heart is hammering so hard I can barely breathe.
Fear claws at my throat, but Kirill’s steady grip and calm authority keep me moving.
We reach the hut and he presses me against the back wall, his body shielding mine as he scans the area with cold, calculating eyes.
“Everything will be fine,” Kirill says, voice low and steady despite the danger. “As long as you follow me exactly. Do you understand?”
I nod frantically, tears pricking my eyes. “Listen, I know this place. There’s an exit from the park across from the hut on the other side of those trees. We should run there.”
Kirill glances that way, assessing. “No. You run, I’ll provide cover. I’m going to make a break to the opposite side and draw their fire. You run for the exit. Do not stop. Do not look back. Get back to the café where Bobby is and tell him what’s happening.”
My hands clutch at his shirt. “Daddy—"
He cuts me off with a fierce, quick kiss, hard and possessive, like he’s pouring everything he can’t say into it. When he pulls back, his eyes are blazing.
“Promise me you’ll be okay,” I whisper, voice breaking.
Kirill nods once, jaw set, teeth gritted. “On three.”
I take a deep, shaky breath, every muscle coiled and ready.
“One… two… three!”
Kirill explodes out from behind the hut, sprinting hard in the opposite direction. Almost immediately I hear two more gunshots—sharp cracks that make me flinch—but I don’t look back. I run, just like Daddy told me too.
My legs pump as fast as they can, grass flying beneath my feet. I dodge between trees, heart slamming against my ribs, terror making everything feel too bright and too loud.
I don’t stop.
I don’t slow down.
I burst out of the park exit and sprint the short distance back to the café, lungs burning.
The moment I push through the door, Skeet spots me and rushes forward, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“Teddy! What happened?” Skeet cries. “You look terrified!”
Bobby is right behind him, eyes wide and alert. “Where’s Uncle Kirill?”
I’m shaking so hard I can barely speak at first. Skeet guides me to a chair while Bobby grabs me a glass of water. Between ragged breaths, I manage to get the words out.
“Shots… in the park. Someone was shooting at us. Kirill… he told me to run. He drew their fire so I could get away. He said to tell you, Bobby.”
Bobby’s face hardens with determination, but I can see the worry flickering beneath it. He pulls out his phone immediately.
Skeet keeps his arms around me, rubbing my back. “You’re safe now. You’re here. Breathe, okay?”
I nod, clutching the water glass with trembling hands, the adrenaline still surging through me.
Kirill is out there.
And I have no idea if he’s okay.
All I can do is wait and pray that the man who just risked everything to protect me makes it back to me in one piece…
* * *
The three of us burst through my apartment door in a rush of adrenaline and fear. Skeet locks it behind us immediately, sliding the deadbolt with shaky hands. Bobby moves with surprising calm, already pulling out his phone as he heads toward the window to peek through the blinds.
“Try and relax,” Bobby says, here eyes flicking between his phone and outside.
I sink onto the couch, legs finally giving out. My heart is still hammering so hard it feels like it might burst. The image of Kirill sprinting away to draw the gunfire keeps flashing behind my eyes—his broad back, his strong legs pumping, the way he didn’t even hesitate.
Skeet sits right beside me and pulls me into a tight hug.
“You’re safe now, baby,” Skeet says, a tear in his eye. “We’re safe. We’re home. Breathe.”
He gets up for a moment and returns with a warm mug of milk—vanilla and honey, exactly the way I like it when I’m overwhelmed. I wrap my hands around it, letting the heat seep into my cold fingers, while Brando is tucked firmly under my other arm. I hug him close to my chest like a lifeline.
Bobby paces near the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. His voice is low and urgent as he speaks to whoever is on the other end.
“…yes, in the park near his apartment. Shots fired,” Bobby says. “Uncle Kirill drew them away so he could escape. We’re at his place now. We need eyes on the area and a safe extraction if necessary.”
Bobby listens for a moment, then nods. “Understood. Keep me updated.”
Bobby ends the call and turns to us, his face serious but composed. He’s so young, yet right now he looks like he’s done this a hundred times.
Skeet keeps rubbing my back in slow circles. “Drink, sweetie. It’ll help.”
I take a shaky sip of the warm milk, the sweetness coating my tongue. Tears prick at my eyes again. “Bobby… do you think Kirill will be okay?”
Bobby walks over and kneels in front of me, placing a gentle hand on my knee.
His eyes are steady, honest. “I hope so. I really do. But this… this is the reality of this fucked up life, Teddy. Danger is always around the corner. One minute everything is fine, the next someone is shooting at you in a park. It’s why Uncle Kirill has been so careful about bringing you in. ”
Bobby’s words hit hard.
I feel fresh tears spill over, but underneath the fear something else stirs—a stubborn, determined strength. It feels like the final reps of a brutal set in the gym, when every muscle is screaming but you know you have one more push left in you.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and hug Brando tighter.
My voice comes out small but steady. “I know my Daddy will pull through.”
Bobby’s expression softens with quiet pride. He nods once. “He will. He always does. I could tell you a hundred tales of Uncle Kirill’s rise up the family.”
Skeet squeezes my shoulder. “Listen to Bobby. Kirill will be back. And you’re stronger than you think.”
Bobby stands, already moving with purpose.
“We can’t stay here long. If they were targeting Uncle Kirill and you were with him, it’s possible this apartment is now compromised too.
They might come looking. I’m taking you both somewhere safe.
One of our secure locations. Pack a small bag, Teddy.
Essentials only. We leave in five minutes. ”
I nod, even though my legs still feel like jelly. Skeet helps me up and we move quickly throwing a few clothes, my charger, Brando, and some snacks into a backpack. Bobby stays by the window, watching the street with sharp eyes.
As I zip the bag, a fresh wave of fear rolls through me, but I push it down.
I think of Kirill: the way he shielded me, the way he commanded me to run, the fierce kiss he gave me before he sprinted into danger. He risked everything for me.
He has to be okay.
My Daddy has to come back to me.
Bobby checks his phone one last time. “Car’s waiting downstairs. Let’s go.”
We slip out of the apartment and down the stairs. A black SUV is idling at the curb, windows tinted dark. Bobby opens the back door for us, his movements efficient and protective.
As we pull away from the building, I wave goodbye to Skeet as he walks down the sidewalk, blending into the pedestrians with ease. I clutch Brando to my chest and stare out the window, the city lights blurring through unshed tears.
I don’t know what happens next.
I don’t know how deep this world of Kirill’s really goes.
But I do know one thing with sudden, fierce clarity: I’m not ready to walk away from him.
Not yet.
Not ever.
And if he makes it through tonight, I’m going to tell him that myself.
I want Kirill to be my Forever Daddy, and I’ll do anything to make it happen.