14. Henry
Henry
The journey back from town was nice. It almost felt like something approaching normality. But I’m no fool. I’ve been in this game way too long to get comfortable when there’s danger in the air.
I have a duty to Bodie—and nothing is going to stand in the way of that.
The safehouse is quiet, save for the ocean’s low hum seeping through the cracked windows and the soft giggles coming from the living area.
That boy…
So sweet.
But with that side of mischief and mayhem to him too.
I lean against the kitchen counter, a lukewarm coffee in my hand, watching Bodie sprawled on the sagging floorboards.
The boy’s got Poot and Billy—his new stuffed duck with those ridiculous sunglasses—set up in a mock surf competition, cushions scattered around like waves.
I can’t help but smile as Bodie makes Poot “paddle” across a pillow, narrating in a high-pitched voice, “Go, Poot! Shred that tube!” Billy’s next, wobbling on a cushion as he declares him the “coolest surfer in the west.”
It’s adorable as hell, his Little side out in full force, and my chest tightens at the sight.
Bodie’s on his stomach, legs kicking in the air, his oversized tee riding up to show a sliver of freckled skin.
The boy’s a firecracker, all sass and defiance, but moments like this—him playing, lost in his safe Little world—make me want to drop everything and just watch the boy forever.
My Daddy side hums, picturing a life where this is normal: Bodie giggling over stuffies, me setting rules to keep him safe, coming home to his sketches and his smile after a mission.
A beach house, maybe, with a big table for his art, a corner for his stuffies, and a bed where I’d tuck him in every night.
But that fantasy slams into reality like a rogue wave.
My life’s a minefield—Night Ops missions, blood, secrets I can’t share.
Most Littles can’t handle my life. I don’t blame them—sometimes I don’t even think I can handle it.
But…
Bodie’s different, though—stubborn, brave, with a spark that matches mine.
I just don’t know though… would he stay, knowing the truth about what I do?
The blood on my hands from ops gone wrong, like Hicks in Bogotá? That’s the kind of shit that you can’t unhear. I sip my coffee, the bitter taste bringing me down to earth, and try to shake the thought.
Hmm .
Maybe a Daddy like me doesn’t get forever, not with my kind of life.
Bodie’s giggle pulls me back, his blue eyes bright as he makes Billy “wipe out” with a dramatic flop onto a cushion.
“Oh no, Billy, you ate it!” Bodie says, laughing, his voice light and unguarded. It’s the happiest I’ve seen him since that diner, and it hits me hard—how much I want to protect this, to keep his world small and safe.
But Vince’s out there, a shadow creeping closer, and I can’t let his joy blind me to the danger…
My burner phone buzzes on the counter, sharp and urgent, yanking me from my thoughts. I grab it, my gut tightening as I see Cole’s name. His message is short, but it’s a gut punch:
C: Got intel. Vince hired mercenaries, cartel affiliated.
They’re in Sunny Ferns, hunting Bodie, will be headed in your direction once they get a scent.
My guess is Vince thinks he’ll rat to the feds, spill on his laundering on whatever the hell he’s been up to.
I’m setting up surveillance—cameras, drones, local contacts.
Stay sharp. They’re pros, not street punks. Update soon.
My jaw clenches, the coffee forgotten.
Mercenaries… cartel-backed.
This isn’t just Vince being a possessive asshole—this is him playing for keeps. He knows Bodie’s a loose end, someone the feds could lean on to unravel his whole operation.
Fake surf comps, sponsorships—he told me enough to know he’s got dirt, even if he’s still holding back.
Vince’s not taking chances, and these mercs won’t hesitate to put a bullet in him to keep him quiet.
Because Vince knows that if he thinks Bodie is a threat to him, suddenly Vince becomes a threat to the cartel.
My guess is that Vince’s covering his own ass here as much as anything else.
My blood runs cold, thinking of that black truck parked by his van, the shooters…
They’re closing in, and this shack’s only safe until they find it.
I glance at Bodie, still playing, oblivious to the storm brewing. My Daddy instincts scream to scoop him up, lock him down, set rules so tight he can’t blink without my say-so.
But this is different.
Bodie is different.
He’s the boy who’s got me imagining a future I’ve got no right to want. I need to tell him something, enough to keep him sharp without scaring his Little side into a spiral.
But first, I need to lock this place down.
I step toward the living area, my boots heavy on the creaky floor.
“Bodie,” I say, my voice firm and clear, Daddy mode kicking in hard. “Put the stuffies down. We need to talk.”
Bodie freezes, his hands mid-air with Billy, his pout flaring as he looks up.
“What now, Bossy?” Bodie says, all sass, but there’s a flicker of worry in his blue eyes. “I’m just playing. Not breaking your precious rules.”
“You’re distracting me,” I snap, harsher than I intended, the weight of Cole’s message making my patience thin. “This isn’t a game, Bodie. You’re prancing around with your stuffies while I’m trying to keep us alive. Stow it, now.”
Bodie’s face falls, the joy draining out, and my gut twists.
Damn it, I didn’t mean to crush his Little side, but the stakes are too high for him to be goofing off.
Bodie sits up, clutching Poot and Billy, his pout trembling like he’s fighting tears.
“I’m not prancing,” Bodie mutters, his voice small but edged with defiance. “I’m just… trying to feel normal for five seconds. You don’t get it. How could you?”
I step closer, towering over him, my hands on my hips.
“I get it, Little One,” I say, softening my tone but keeping it firm. “You need your safe space, and I’m not taking that away. But right now, normal is simply a luxury we don’t have. Vince’s got people after you—bad people. We need to be ready, not playing surf contests with cushions.”
Bodie’s eyes widen, fear creeping in, but his stubborn streak holds. He scrambles to his feet, Poot and Billy under one arm, his other hand balled into a fist.
“Don’t lecture me like I’m some baby!” Bodie snaps, stepping toward me, his voice rising. “I know Vince’s bad news. Jeez . I lived with him, remember? I’m not stupid, Henry, so stop treating me like I am!”
He’s close now, his freckled nose inches from mine, his breath hitching with anger.
I can see the fire in Bodie’s eyes, that mix of fear and fight that makes him so damn infuriating and irresistible. My Daddy side wants to pull him over my knee for the attitude, but there’s something else—a heat sparking between us, electric and dangerous.
Before I can process the moment, Bodie’s lips part, like he’s got more to say, and I’m ready to shut him down, to set a boundary he won’t cross.
But then it happens.
I don’t know who moves first—him or me—but suddenly his lips are on mine, fierce and hungry, his hands grabbing my shirt like he’s locking in all the way.
My arms wrap around the boy, pulling him close, my mouth claiming his with a need I didn’t know was there. He tastes like grape soda and heaven, his body tight against my chest, and for a moment, the world—Vince, the cartel, the Guard—disappears.
It’s just us.
Bodie’s heat, his fire, and my Daddy side roaring to make him mine…
The boy’s fingers dig into my shoulders, and I deepen the kiss, my hand cupping the back of his neck, his hair soft under my touch.
Bodie moans, a soft, needy sound that shoots straight to my core, and I’m lost in him—his scent, his taste, the way he fits against me.
Fuck. This is incredible.
I feel alive.
I feel…
But then reality crashes in, Cole’s message flashing in my mind, and I pull back, my breath ragged, my body humming with arousal and shock.
Bodie’s eyes are wide, his lips swollen, his cheeks flushed as he stares at me, like he’s just as stunned.
“What… what was that?” Bodie whispers, his voice shaky, clutching Poot and Billy like they’re his lifeline.
I step back, my heart pounding, my hands flexing to keep from pulling him back in.
“Bodie,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face, my scar itching. “That was… a mistake. We can’t do this. We can’t… not now.”
His pout returns, but it’s softer, hurt flickering in his eyes.
“A mistake?” Bodie says, his voice cracking. “You kissed me back, Henry. Don’t act like I threw myself at you.”
“I know,” I say, my voice rough, guilt and want twisting in my gut.
“I wanted it. Hell, I want you. But this— us —it’s complicated.
Vince’s goons are out there, and I’m your protector, not your…
whatever this is.” I gesture between us, my Daddy side screaming to claim him, to set rules that make him mine, but my Guard training holds me back.
“We need to focus. Keep you safe. That’s my job . ”
Bodie’s lips tremble, his Little side peeking out despite the fire in his eyes.
“Your job,” Bodie repeats, his voice bitter. “Right. So I’m just a mission to you? Another op, like Hicks?”
Bodie’s words hit like a blade, and I flinch, the memory of Hicks’ death raw.
“You’re not just a mission,” I growl, stepping closer, my voice low and fierce. “You’re… you’re under my skin, Bodie. Come on, you know you are. But I can’t let that cloud my head. Not when those mercs could be outside right now, waiting to put a bullet in you.”
Bodie swallows, fear flashing across his face, but he lifts his chin, defiant as ever.
“Fine,” he says, his voice quieter but still sharp. “Keep me safe, then. But don’t pretend you didn’t feel that kiss, Henry. I’m not some dumb Little who can’t handle the truth.”
Damn, he’s as sharp as a tack.
I stare at the boy, my pulse still racing, his taste lingering on my lips. Bodie’s right—I felt it, and it’s got me rattled. I’ve faced cartels, dictators, bullets, but this boy, this firecracker Little, is shaking me in ways I don’t know how to handle.
Things just got real complicated, and I’m not sure I can keep my Daddy side in check much longer.
“Get your stuffies,” I say, my voice gruff, trying to regain control. “We’re locking this place down. No more games until Cole’s surveillance is up and we know what we’re dealing with.”
Bodie huffs, holds Poot and Billy tight, his pout back in full force.
“Whatever, Bossypants,” he mutters, brushing past me to the couch, his body grazing mine.
The contact sends another jolt through me, and I clench my fists, fighting the urge to pull him back, to kiss him again until we both forget the danger.
I turn away, grabbing my phone to text Cole back, my fingers steady despite the storm in my chest.
H: Understood. Lock down surveillance ASAP. Bodie’s holding back more intel—working on it. Keep me posted.
I hit send, my eyes flicking to Bodie, now curled up with his stuffies, sketching in his pad, his pencil moving fast like he’s pouring out his frustration.
I want him—his sass, his Little side, his everything .
But Vince’s men are closing in, and my job is to keep the boy alive, not to fall for him.
That kiss changed things, though, and as I check the shack’s locks, my mind’s split… half on the mission, half on the boy who’s making me question everything.
I’ve got to balance the scales, for him and for me, but right now, all I can think about is how his lips felt against mine, and how much I want to do it again…