13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
CLARE
I felt safe sitting on Daddy's lap while we ate lunch. He kept one arm securely around my waist, making sure I didn't fall, while I happily opened my mouth to accept the dunked sandwich bites. Daddy wouldn’t let me dunk them myself in case I burned my fingers, but that didn’t spoil anything. Daddy’s care made them taste even better if that was possible. Delicious—exactly the way I remembered having it as a child, before everything got complicated.
"Is it good, princess?" Daddy asked, his voice warm against my ear.
I nodded enthusiastically. "Mmm! It's perfect, Daddy."
He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. The gesture made me feel warm inside, protected.
As we finished eating, I felt Daddy's posture change slightly. There was a new tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.
"Clare," he said gently, his voice shifting to a more serious tone. "Can we talk about something important?"
I felt myself stiffen immediately, anxiety fluttering in my chest. Had I done something wrong? Was he already tired of taking care of me?
"You're not in trouble, princess," he assured me quickly, seeming to sense my distress. "I just need to ask you about something you mentioned earlier. About the evil king."
My stomach dropped, the warm, safe feeling evaporating instantly. I didn't want to think about that. Not now, when everything had been so nice. I shook my head fiercely.
“Princess, do you remember when I promised I would protect you from the sorcerer?”
I nodded cautiously. “Well, this is how Daddy keeps his promises. He can’t protect his princess properly if he doesn’t know who to protect her from.”
Which made sense. I just didn’t want to.
“How about,” Daddy said, “you tell me a story about how Daddy can vanquish the evil king and what he needs to do?”
I perked up a little. I loved stories. I could do that. I reached over for the little gray bear who’d been going to watch a movie with us. He needed a name. “Once upon a time there was a lonely princess who didn’t have any friends.”
MADDOX
She was killing me. Didn’t have any friends?
“But she was trying hard to be friends with people, so she believed the wicked sorcerer when he said he wanted to be her friend…her Daddy,” Clare continued in her sing-song Little voice.
I listened intently as Clare wove her tale, my heart breaking for the "princess" in her story who was clearly herself.
"But the sorcerer wasn't really a Daddy," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He was taking princesses for the evil king. The king likes to watch from his castle far away. He sees everything through magic mirrors."
I felt a chill run down my spine at her words. This might confirm our suspicions about Rice being involved, but the "magic mirrors" part was new information. Were there cameras in Blakeny's operation? Was Rice watching remotely?
"Did the king ever come to see the princesses?" I asked gently.
Clare shook her head. "No. The king never leaves his castle. He just watches. The sorcerer tells the princesses that if they're good enough, maybe the king will choose them. But that's a lie too." She clutched her bear tighter. "No princess ever gets chosen. They just...disappear."
My blood ran cold. Disappear? Were there other victims we didn't know about?
"Princess," I said carefully, "do you know what happened to the other princesses who disappeared?"
Clare's face scrunched up in concentration. "The sorcerer would get angry sometimes. He'd say a princess wasn't good enough for the king. Then the next day, she'd be gone." She looked up at me, her eyes wide and frightened. "I was good, so I didn't disappear.”
“Princess,” I said carefully. “Did you see the other girls?”
She nodded. “But they were kept in the naughty room. I only had to go there once.” She started humming to herself and I kept my mouth closed. Firstly, because she’d had enough, and secondly because I was stunned. The naughty room? Then a god-awful thought came to me. What if we hadn’t gotten all the girls out? We knew Blakeny and Rice were deep into human trafficking. Dear God, there could have been other girls in the house we didn’t know about.
I kept my arms around Clare, trying to process what she'd just revealed. Other girls, a "naughty room" we hadn't known about, and almost a confirmation that Rice was involved. This was critical information, but I needed to handle the situation delicately.
"Thank you for telling me that story, princess," I said softly, stroking her hair. "You're so brave and such a good girl for sharing."
Clare looked up at me, vulnerability written across her face. "Are you cross with me, Daddy?"
"No, sweetheart, not at all," I assured her quickly. "Daddy's just thinking. How about we watch that movie now? You can pick anything you'd like."
Her face brightened immediately. "Can we watch Tangled? It's my favorite."
"Of course we can, princess." I helped her off my lap and guided her to the sofa, making sure she had the bear, a cup of juice, and a princess snuggly throw. "You get comfy while I set up the movie, okay?"
As Clare snuggled into the cushions and I tucked the blanket around her, I quickly sent a text to Gideon:
"Need to talk ASAP. New info from Clare. Possible other victims we missed. Any chance you can come here?"
I set up the movie and sat down next to Clare, who immediately curled up against my side. As the opening scene began, I felt her relax against me, her earlier distress seemingly forgotten as she became absorbed in the story.
I held her close, my mind racing with the implications of what she'd revealed until I saw a text from Gideon.
“On r way. ETA 30.”
I was hoping Clare wouldn’t mind me talking to the guys in the kitchen while she stayed here, but as I saw her eyes drooping ten minutes later, I knew she would be asleep by the time the guys came.
Twenty minutes later I’d made the coffee when Gideon and Dion both walked in. “She’s napping,” I said quietly, and I mixed their coffees and told them what Clare had told me.
“Eric scanned the feeds,” Gideon said equally quietly, knowing I didn’t want to disturb Clare, and took a seat at the breakfast bar. “It’s sitting empty, but there’s no way anyone is still there.”
“So they’ve been sold,” I croaked out. Fuck. We’d been there. How could we have missed it?
“If there was anyone there then, the room they were held in could have easily been blocked against thermal images as well as making it soundproof. Eric wouldn’t have known, and all our intelligence said Clare was the only one there,” Dion said.
“It’s already being developed as a country club,” Eric said. Blakeny already had a championship-level golf course outside, so there isn’t much internal work to be done. From the website that’s been set up, members are already flocking to join.”
I blew out a frustrated breath.
“How’s she doing?” Gideon asked.
“I’m trying to make her Little side a safe space, but if the only time she reveals this is when she’s Little, that puts me in an impossible situation.”
“And Blakeny being back in the states isn’t going to help,” Dion said, and we heard a gasp from the doorway.
We all turned immediately, and I was on my feet before I realized. “Princess,” I said comfortingly and drew Clare close. I was immensely relieved when she let me. “You remember Gideon?” She nodded then looked at Dion.
He smiled gently and introduced himself.
“I remember you from the club.”
Then she looked at me. “He’s back?” She shook her head. “Do you know, I never wondered where he was. I just wanted to never think about him ever again.”
“We’re trying to work out where he might be holding the other princesses you told me about,” I said, trying to explain.
She frowned. “What others?”
I blinked. “The ones you said were held in the naughty room,” I said, hating to remind her. She frowned in confusion.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Which knocked me for a loop. It was as if she really didn’t remember our conversation.
“You know my Little girl called Abby,” Gideon said breaking the awkward moment. “She’d very much like a play date with you. We live next door.” Which was a huge exaggeration as our houses may be close, but close as in a good half a mile apart.
Clare smiled shyly. “I’d like that.” She clearly understood Gideon’s meaning of Little girl. Then she looked at me. “I think it’s time I went home. I can call an Uber.”
Words failed me. But I took a deep breath. “You would be safer here, at least while we find out what’s going on.”
She looked at me, but her smile was a little forced. “I think it’s time I went home.”
I stood frozen, watching Clare's withdrawn posture. She'd shifted from the warm, affectionate Little who'd been curled against me just moments ago to this guarded woman who wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Clare," I said softly, "I understand if you need your own space. But with Blakeny back in the country, I'm concerned about your safety."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I can't...I can't just move in with you because he's back. That's not...that's not how this works."
Gideon and Dion exchanged glances, then Gideon cleared his throat. "What if we had someone keep an eye on your place? Just as a precaution."
Clare bit her lip, considering this. "I have to go back to school soon. I can't just disappear from my life because he might be somewhere in the same state."
I wanted to argue, to insist she stay where I could protect her, but I knew pushing would only drive her further away. "Alright," I said finally. "But at least let me drive you home and check your apartment first."
She nodded reluctantly. "Okay."
As Gideon and Dion prepared to leave, I pulled Gideon aside while Clare went to the bathroom. "Have Eric check the security at her building. And set up surveillance."
Gideon nodded grimly. "Already on it. I'll have someone watching her place 24/7."
Twenty minutes later I was driving Clare home.
“What did you mean by the naughty room?”
Her question pierced the fog of worry my brain was surrounded by, and figuring I had nothing to lose, I decided to be honest and told her what she’d said. Her astonishment was real.
“I don’t remember any of that.” She shook her head. “I don’t even remember telling you.”
I knew because I’d been active with servicemen coming home that PTSD was a serious thing. “I think your brain is protecting you,” I said honestly. “And I’m glad.” I squeezed her hand.
“Even if what’s in my head might help you catch them?”
I struggled with that answer but in the end decided to be honest. “Clare you’ve come to mean a great deal to me. I would rather cut off one of my limbs than hurt you in any way.”
“Even for the greater good?” she whispered.
I knew as a Marine the greater good was instilled into my DNA. “Even then,” I promised.