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I wanted to roll my eyes, but I didn’t think that would fare well. Not when he had a gun, and I had a chronic illness.
Who wears a suit at 3am? Did this man ever sleep? Was he actually part of the mob like rumors reported or just an intensely sleep deprived corrupt fancy pants?
“I will not drop you, Tobias. God, this place is wretched. You shouldn't be living in a trash bin with seventy flights of stairs.” “You’re being mean again.” I said.
I want to keep him. Careening forward, I ran my fingertips across his lips, similar to the way I’d done several hours before. In the back of my town car, one arm sheathing him, he placed a simple kiss against my fingertips.
“You actually got me butterflies. God, are you trying to give me Stockholm syndrome?” “I did not kidnap you.”
“So when are you gonna hook me up with a job? You promised.” “When a substantial amount of time goes by that you don’t wake up in pain.” “Benji, I have lupus. There will always be days I wake up in pain. Can’t you just be a good kidnapper and eat me?”
“You would’ve come for me, right? If I left?” “With guns blazing, baby.”
“I can’t believe you took a day off of work to watch a romcom with me. Are you even allowed to do that?” “Toby, I own the company.” His brow rose. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“My baby. If you need something, I’ll provide it. If you’re sick, I’ll fix it. Your smiles, your laughs, your freckles, and those godforsaken tears all belong to me.”
“You need to eat and take your meds.” “But—” “Be a good boy, Toby.”
“Are you obsessed with me?” It was meant to tease him—ease some of the heavy tension before I came in my pants beneath him. He cocked his head, eyes burrowing into me. “Yes.” He rasped. “I am dangerously obsessed with you.”
“I missed you today. God. One of these days, I’m going to take you to work with me and set you on my desk like a treasure. Just so I can stare at you.”
“I think I look like an old carrot.” “I love old carrots.” “Lucky me then.”
“Daddy.” The word left me with a whimper, and I solidified the second it was free, past my lips and hanging in the air between us like a loose tether—one wrong breath and I’d snap. “Say it again.”
I was pretty fucking delighted at the jealousy that flickered through my boy. He’d told me Amia had disclosed the number of hopeful suitors that visited my office on a weekly basis. A darkness in his eyes, he’d stomped his foot and demanded I have them all arrested. It was fucking cute.
His forest eyes turned gray, and he poked me hard in the chest. “You better be safe, Daddy.” I cupped his face, pulling it toward mine. Our foreheads met, and I made him a pledge. “There is not a force on this earth strong enough to prevent me from coming home to you.”
I was eighty-pounds lighter and chronically ill. Guilt was the only play I had here, and this fucker was bonkers if he thought I wouldn’t use it. “I don’t feel good, Dan.”
Benji would come for me, and Dan would die. Maybe I was carved with some cruelty of my own, because I didn’t care. Not even a little. I wanted Daddy to kill the man that hurt me.
The world moved in slow motion as the box opened, like something out of a movie created for dramatic effect. To top it off, I gasped. Like actually, truly, clutch my pearls gasped. “Benjamin Daddy Thomas!”
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” I sniffed, cringing at the snotty sound. “My body produces tears at a rapid rate.”
