Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Blade
It’s been hours since we got home, and June is still far too quiet. She seems nearly catatonic in the way she sits and stares at nothing. She isn’t going to teach her classes tonight, not that I blame her.
I went into her email and sent messages to her students, letting them know she’s really sick and will get in touch with them as soon as her fever has passed. It seemed like the best excuse that would buy her some time. But how much time will she need?
The worst thing is she hasn’t eaten much, nor has she had enough to drink. She lets me move her around like a rag doll without complaint, but she isn’t talking to me, except for one or two words when I ask her direct questions. She also avoids eye contact.
I’m freaking the fuck out, worried she’s traumatized from knowing I killed a man. A man who would have killed her if I hadn’t gotten there on time. A man who would have hunted her down and terrorized her for the rest of her life if I’d let him live.
I’m not the least bit sorry I put an end to Pete Stark. My only regret is that I didn’t have the luxury of dragging out his death so he could have suffered longer. He didn’t deserve the mercy I showed.
No one will ever suspect that Stark was killed by my team. For one thing, we’re that good at covering our tracks. We know how to enter and exit without leaving a footprint anywhere. We wear gloves. We clean up.
The reason we dumped all the evidence of Stark’s life of crime around him was to point out that any of about two dozen people had reason to want him dead. My team doesn’t make that list.
It’s been three years since Stark’s wife left him; she’s on no one’s radar either. We checked the houses on that street and determined no one was at home in the middle of the day, so not a soul spotted the Camaro. The SUVs were hidden.
It was a clean job that will never be tracked back to us. But I suspect my girl is worried. It’s time for me to force her to talk to me. She’s wallowed in her own head for long enough. It’s not healthy.
I find her in the bedroom, sitting in the armchair, staring at the wall.
The sippy cup filled with her favorite black cherry seltzer is on the floor, untouched.
Yeah, it’s time to end this. I go to her, scoop her into my arms, and take her spot in the chair.
She doesn’t fight me, but she doesn’t meet my gaze either.
Pressing her cheek against my chest, I stroke my fingers through her hair, hoping to comfort her in some way. I’m trying to decide what to say when she surprises me by speaking first. “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she whispers.
I flinch. She’s sorry? “What are you sorry for, Little one?”
“I did so many naughty things. I should have come to you instead. I broke like fifty of my safety rules. I snuck out of the house so even Mr. Brinkman wouldn’t notice me.
I touched your knives. I stole one. I stole your car.
I drove dangerously with a broken arm. I even argued with you when you came to rescue me.
You’ll never be able to trust me again.”
This is unexpected. I’m taken aback. I didn’t realize she was holding all this inside her. I thought she was mad at me. I feared she wouldn’t be able to look at me again now that she knows I killed a man. A specific man.
I tip my girl back in my arms so she’s looking at me. “June… Honey, I’m not mad at you. First of all, I could never be mad at you, and I never will be.”
She sits taller on my thigh. “But I was so naughty, and I broke so many rules. I could have gotten in an accident. I could have cut myself with that knife. You should be mad. Really mad. I stole your car, Blade.”
I smile at her. “Honey, it’s not my car. Nothing I owned before I met you is mine anymore. It’s ours. You don’t need my permission to take the car anywhere.”
Her eyes go wide. Her jaw drops open.
I lift her off my knee, stand her in front of me between my legs, and clasp her biceps.
I want her full attention. “What’s mine is yours.
The moment you’re fully ready, I’m going to put a ring on your finger and haul you to the courthouse.
After that, everything of mine will be legally yours.
And let me explain something to you. I do not own you.
You are your own person. You can make your own choices and decisions about anything you want whenever you want. ”
She frowns.
“June… I know the lines got blurred because you’ve been stuck in the apartment for two weeks.
Those have been an intense two weeks during which we got to know each other faster than most couples ordinarily would.
We also entered into a specific power-exchange relationship and have been learning what works for us in the arc of age play.
“It’s true that we will likely settle into a Daddy Dom/Little girl arrangement that is nearly twenty-four-seven because it suits us.
But at no point will you ever give up agency over your body or mind.
Sometimes, you will need to make decisions for yourself that I don’t get a say in.
That’s what happens between couples. Never will that mean that I would stop loving you. Never.”
June is breathing heavily as she stares at me.
“Do you understand, honey? I’m not mad at you for anything that happened this morning.
I was scared out of my mind. I wished you had come to me instead of taking off and putting your life in danger.
But I don’t blame you for your choices. I fully understand why you did it. I’m actually proud of you.
“My heart swells to know you value a stranger’s life so much that you would do anything to save them.
I’m grateful you had the forethought to grab a weapon.
And I’m so glad I told you where my knives are kept.
Thank God you knew where the keys to the car were and how to get to it and get out of the parking garage.
I’m even glad you’d be able to evade detection if you ever needed to. ”
Silent tears are running down her cheeks. She sniffles.
I pull her closer between my legs. “June, you’re my life.
My heart. My soul. Sometimes, your adult self might do things I don’t like, but that happens in every relationship.
We will work through those things calmly.
I might do things you don’t like, too.” I lift a brow, wondering if she might think of something I do that she doesn’t approve of.
She licks her lips. “Like kill people,” she whispers.
“Exactly. See? Are you mad at Daddy for what I did this morning?”
She shakes her head. “No. He was a fucking monster. I’m glad you ended him. Now I won’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”
I inhale deeply, relieved.
She licks her lips. “But I don’t like the idea of you killing people regularly because it scares me. What if they kill you someday?”
I hold her the rest of the way against me and hug her tight. I never want to let her go. “No one is going to kill me, honey. Never. You have to trust that. I’m one of the best in the country at what I do. I was trained by the military. So were my men. I promise I will always come home to you.”
She sniffles against my chest. “So you’re not mad at me?”
I lean her back. “Never, June. I’m not your father, nor am I your ex. There’s nothing you can do that would ever make me angry. Scared, yes. But not angry. I will never raise my voice. I will never scream at you. And I will certainly never strike you in anger.”
“Not even if I steal the car without telling you?”
“The car is yours. I’ll change everything so your name is on it first thing tomorrow. You can’t steal your own car. And you do not need permission to leave the house, June.”
“But…”
“That’s me speaking to you partner to partner in a committed relationship between two equal adults.
That’s the bottom line. We might spend most of our time living in an agreed-upon kinky relationship, and it may feel like my word as your Dom is law sometimes, but I don’t have that power over you without you giving it to me.
I can give you rules and ask you to obey them, and I will because your Little likes boundaries and guidance.
But at the end of the day, under your Little is a fully capable, amazing grown adult who can take the keys off the counter and leave our apartment without permission. ”
She tips her head to the side. “You’re giving me permission to just come and go anytime I want?”
“I’m giving your adult permission to do so, June. And frankly, your adult doesn’t need permission. Adults don’t answer to other people. However, your Little doesn’t have permission to even pee alone, so no.” I smile.
She rolls her eyes. “That’s so confusing.”
“Did you just roll your eyes at me, naughty girl?”
“Yes.”
“Does your Daddy let you do something like that?”
“No.”
“Does your Daddy let you speak disrespectfully?”
I love the way she swallows hard. “No, Sir. No, Daddy.”
I slide my hands up to stroke the back of her head. “It feels natural to submit to me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Your entire body relaxed when we slid back into that comfortable arrangement. You have a naturally submissive side that wants to be nurtured and disciplined. You thrive under strict rules, Little one. They’re your comfort zone.
Your Little does not have permission to leave the apartment for any reason without Daddy.
She may not play with knives or touch the hot stove.
She isn’t allowed to surf the internet and rot her brain with social media.
She doesn’t choose her clothes or even feed herself sometimes.
She has a bedtime and takes naps. She snuggles with a stuffed bear and sits on her Daddy’s lap.
She’s all those things nearly full-time, but underneath that Little girl, who’d rather submit to her Daddy than have to adult, is a capable adult.
One with agency. When she needs to come out, she will do so, and I will never, ever be angry when that happens. Understood?”
She slumps against me. “Yes, Daddy.” Her small arms go around my neck, even the clunky one. “I love you so much, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, honey. Now, let me make a suggestion.”
“What?”
“How about if you let Daddy take you over my knees and spank you? I meant to wait a few more weeks until your arm was healed and you could understand spanking better, but I think you will benefit from a spanking today. This is not a punishment for doing something wrong. This would be what I call a maintenance spanking that will help you purge all the icky feelings you’ve got bottled up inside. ”
She frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“You will. You have to experience it to understand.”
“Simone said something like that, but it seems crazy to me.”
“Will you try it?”
“So, I’m not in trouble?”
“Not at all. I’m going to spank you to help you feel better. You might cry. That’s common.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Then Daddy will stop, and we won’t do it again. Some Little girls don’t like to be spanked. But most do.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”