Chapter 20 #2
"He's holding it together. Barely, but yes." Pip's voice shifted again, going softer. "He's going to need to work when this is done. You know how he is. Give him a target and he'll be fine. Right now, he's just sitting with everything. I’m ready for him to shift into bloody revenge mode."
"And you're staying with him until then?"
Pip didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice let me know he'd heard the real question underneath the stated one. "Yeah. I'm staying. Someone has to keep an eye on him until Ricardo wakes up."
I pulled the tablet back toward me. "Okay. Call me when he does. Wake up, I mean. Or if anything changes, even if you think it's minor."
"You'll have it." A pause. "You okay? You sound weird."
"I'm fine." The lie was automatic.
"Uh huh." I could hear the skepticism. "And I'm a ballet dancer. Try again."
"I said I'm fine."
"Henny." His voice shifted, losing the teasing edge. "Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about. The situation is handled. You're safe. That's all that matters." I rubbed my free hand over my face, feeling the exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline was fading.
"You should come to the casino when you're done."
"Okay." No questions or teasing. "It might be a while though. This is a whole production."
"That's fine. Just… when you're done."
Another pause. "You sure you're okay?"
"I will be when you get here."
I heard him exhale. "Alright. I'll make it as fast as I can."
"Pip."
"Yeah."
I almost didn't say it. There were a million things left to do. But I couldn’t hang up just yet. I didn’t want to lose the connection with him.
"I’m not happy about you disarming a bomb, but I’m happy everyone made it. You saved a lot of lives."
"Don't get sentimental on me, Henny. I'll get hard and then Rel will think I’m into him.”
A laugh burst free at his words. I couldn’t help it. He was being ridiculous.
“We’ll talk later.”
He hummed. “Yes, later.”
The call ended, and I sat in my office, staring at the wall, trying to get my breathing under control. Pip was safe. He was coming here. Everything was fine.
So why did my hands still shake?
I forced myself back to work. Reviewed security footage, checked in with department heads, made sure things were safe enough for guests to go back inside. On the surface, I was handling it. Professional, efficient, in control.
Inside, I was coming apart.
Every time my phone buzzed, I grabbed it hoping for an update from Pip. Every minute that passed felt like an hour.
Far later than I wanted, my phone rang. It was Pip.
“I’m on my way to you. Where do I need to go?”
“They’ve allowed us to go back in the building. Come to my old suite.” We hadn’t gotten rid of the place despite having our own house together. I was thankful in that moment since I couldn’t truly leave the grounds until Pharrell was back.
“Ok, I’ll come up as soon as I get there.”
I dropped everything I was doing to get upstairs. Pierre could navigate the rest of it. The big stuff was taken care of. The minute I reached my floor, I froze. I didn’t want to go inside without him. It didn’t feel right.
Leaning against the wall across from the elevator, I waited for Pip to show up. Within minutes, the elevator dinged.
It could have been anyone. But I knew it was him.
The doors opened, and sure enough, there stood the man I was undoubtedly in love with. One look at him and I could sense how tired he was. His clothes were rumpled, there was a smudge of dirt on his jaw, and his hair was more chaotic than usual. But he was standing, breathing, solid and real.
"Hey," he said, stepping out. His eyes scanned my face. "Henny…"
I turned and headed towards the room. He followed without comment. I heard the door close behind us, heard the lock click, and then I couldn't hold it together anymore.
My breathing went wrong. Shallow and fast. Why was the air suddenly so thin? My vision tunneled at the edges. I reached for something to steady myself, but my hands wouldn't cooperate.
"Whoa, hey." Pip was there suddenly, hands on my shoulders, guiding me to sit. "Breathe. You need to breathe."
"I am breathing." But the words came out gasping, not convincing.
"No, you're hyperventilating." He crouched in front of me, hands moving to cup my face. "Look at me. Focus on me."
I tried. His face swam in and out of focus.
"In through your nose. Hold for four. Out through your mouth. Come on, with me."
I followed his instructions on autopilot, matching his breathing. Slowly, incrementally, my lungs started working properly again. The tunnel vision eased. The shaking in my hands lessened.
"There you go," Pip said softly. "That's better. Keep breathing."
We sat like that for several minutes with him crouched in front of me while I focused on taking in oxygen. Finally, when I felt marginally human again, I managed to speak.
"I thought you were dead."
The words hung between us. Pip stared into my soul, reading everything I didn’t say out loud.
I was lost. I need you to stay. I love you.
"I know," he said. "I figured that out when you called me back-to-back.”
"I couldn't reach you."
"I'm sorry. I already admitted that I should’ve called sooner." His thumbs brushed my cheekbones. "But I'm fine. See? Not even a scratch."
"There was a bomb threat. You were inside the building.” My voice cracked, and I had to stop.
Pip's voice was gentle. “I knew I needed to get Pharrell out, so that's what I did. That's the job."
"The job." I laughed bitterly. "The job nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Henny." He shifted, moving from crouching to kneeling, bringing himself closer to eye level. "I'm okay. I'm right here. You can touch me if you need proof."
I did need proof. My hands came up to grip his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle and bone beneath his shirt.
Real.
Alive.
Here.
"I've handled worse situations," I said, mostly to myself. "Shootouts, betrayals, and all the other shit. I don't fall apart like this."
"Those situations didn't involve someone you… care about. Not like me. Right, Daddy?"
The simple truth of it hit hard. He was right. I could stay calm through any crisis as long as it was abstract, professional, not personal. But Pip in danger? That bypassed every defense I had.
"I couldn't do anything," I admitted. "I couldn't help, couldn't protect you, couldn't—"
My breath hitched again.
"Hey, no. Keep breathing." Pip's hands moved to the back of my neck, pressing against the tight muscles.
"I should have been with you."
"Why? So we could both be dealing with evacuation chaos?" He shook his head. “We divide and conquer. That’s what works for us. Besides, one of us could have been stabbed too. I’m glad you weren’t here.”
"I don't like dividing when it means you're in danger."
"I'm always in danger. That's my job. But I'm also really good at my job. Which means I'm really good at not dying."
"Statistics would suggest—"
"Don't." He cut me off firmly. "Don't start calculating probabilities. Just focus on the now. We’re together. We’re safe.”
He was right about that. I'd been running numbers in my head since the first call, all the ways it could have gone wrong, all the percentages and risk factors. It was driving me insane.
"How do you do it?" I asked. "How do you stay calm when I'm in danger?"
Pip was quiet for a moment. "I don't," he admitted. "I just hide it better. And I trust that you're smart enough to handle yourself. Sometimes I’ve even tracked you down to act as your shadow."
“You have?”
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine. "Of course I have. I’ve been obsessed with you for far longer than you truly understand. I love you, Henny."
The admission made something in my chest ease. He got it. He understood the fear, the helplessness, the desperate need to know the other person was safe.
"I'm sorry I fell apart," I said.
"Daddy, you have every right to. Shit today had been bad. I was seconds away from a murder spree when traffic picked up on the way here. My driver probably shit himself when I pulled out my gun.”
I chuckled. “You terror.”
“Your terror. It’s ok to lose your cool, Henny. You're allowed to be scared when someone you care about is in danger. That's normal."
"I don't like it."
"Nobody does. But that's what happens when you let someone in. If I can trust you to be my Daddy, then you can accept sometimes you’re going to worry about me to the point of panic." His smile was gentle.
The logic was absurd but somehow made sense. We'd both made ourselves vulnerable. That was what love meant.
I pulled him closer, needing the physical contact. He came willingly, wrapping his arms around me while I buried my face against his neck. We stayed like that, breathing together, until my heart rate finally returned to normal.
"Better?" he asked after a while.
I loosened my grip slightly. "Getting there. Don't do that again."
"Get caught in a bomb threat? I'll do my best to avoid it."
"Don't make me sit helpless while you're in danger."
He pulled back to look at me. "Can't promise that. Sometimes the job splits us up."
"I know."
I did know. Logically, I understood. But logic didn't help when fear took over.
"I just need you to be careful, please."
"Daddy… I'm always careful." The words came with a smirk.
The promise settled into my bones. We took care of each other. That's what this was. We were each other's safety net.
"I love you," I said.
"I know."
"Come on. Let's get us cleaned up. You need to rest. Everything else can wait until morning."
He was right. I was exhausted, the adrenaline crash hitting hard. I let him pull me to my feet.
"I should go check on him."
"No." He used a firm tone, almost mimicking my voice. "You should shower, eat something, and sleep. The casino will survive one night without you micromanaging."
The role reversal was odd but not unwelcome. I nodded. "Okay."
"You're going to be okay," Pip said as he started the shower.
"I know."
"But for tonight, you get to be not okay. And I'll handle things."
The offer made my throat tight. "Thank you."
"That's what I'm here for." He glanced over at me. "Well, that and the sex. But mostly the support thing. Now get naked."
I huffed a laugh. "Good to know you have priorities."
"Always. Now get that fine ass in this shower.”
I followed his instructions with ease. He was taking care of me the way I took care of him. The balance we'd built working in both directions.
He got me under the hot water and began scrubbing my body. I relaxed into the touch, my mind shutting out all the noise of the day.
"See? Isn't it nice when someone else makes the decisions?"
He was right. It was nice. For once, I didn't have to calculate or plan or manage. I just had to follow simple instructions and let someone else carry the weight.
"This is what you feel," I realized. "When I tell you what to do."
He pulled me against his side. "Yep. It's relief. Someone else handling things so you don't have to."
I understood now in a way I hadn't before. The gift he gave me when he submitted, the trust it took to hand over control. And tonight, I was giving him the same gift.