Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
The bastard knew it too.
“Listen to Daddy,” Corey sang and skipped over to us. “First and foremost, you are the best Papa Bear in the universe. Okay? And second, you’re a great dad. Grade A husband, partner, Sadist, Dominus, hobby farmer, driver—’cause you let me choose the podcast, and you don’t get road rage—and you gave me Chonky. Any man who brings home cute doggies and piggies deserves an award. In fact, I will make you one. You can collect it when you come home safely.”
I grinned and shook my head, and I pulled him into the fold and kissed the top of his head. He knew how to make all the discomfort go away.
“Whenever Daddy makes me squirm, it’s now your responsibility to take that away,” I murmured.
He snickered and peered up at me. “Let’s do that on a case-by-case basis. Daddy decides.”
I narrowed my eyes in playful warning.
“I’m not afraid of you,” he whispered and disappeared behind Sloan.
Too fucking cute.
“I’ll keep you safe, baby boy,” Sloan promised.
At that, Corey poked his head around, smug, and stuck out his tongue at me.
Right then and there, I took a mental picture. I’d keep it at the forefront of my mind—one of the many reasons to come home victorious. One of the many reasons to fight.
“Okay, everyone,” Archie said. “It’s late, and Master should get some rest before he leaves.”
He had a point. My flight to LA was first thing in the morning out of JFK, and I was still expecting further instructions from Reese. In no way were we staying in LA. Maybe Cullen knew more. It was… I checked my watch. Almost midnight. I had to leave in little over an hour. I’d grab a half-hour nap, and then I’d talk to Colt and Ty one more time.
Then we were bringing Shay home.
CHAPTER 7
Tate Madden
Early the following morning, I drove out to Mclean again. With the girls. Kingsley had left for work, demanding updates on everything I learned, and he’d come out as soon as he clocked out.
Luck was on my side, and Zoe and Kaley were sleepy enough and wanted to watch a movie on my laptop, so I arranged a fort for them under the kitchen table. The tablecloth was big enough. Pillows, blankets, sippy cups, seat cushions, and string cheese made for a solid babysitter. For a while anyway. Hopefully long enough for me to get some words on paper for Shay.
I sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and the notebook.
“I see feet, Daddy,” Kaley giggled. At least, I was 80% sure it was Kaley. It was way easier to tell them apart by looking at them. Kaley’s hair was a shade lighter, and she had a small birthmark on her cheek. She also insisted on wearing pink. Every single day.
I wriggled my toes, making them both laugh.
Kids were easy to entertain. Until they weren’t.
It wouldn’t be long before people around here woke up, so I took a sip of my coffee and then started writing.
We miss you so much, Shay. Yesterday, Lane suggested that we turn this notebook into an actual book for you, and I hope you read it before you see any of us. Because I can only imagine how overwhelmed you will be once you come home. And I believe that now. Master Greer and his brother joined the rescue operation last night, and I have to believe good will prevail.
Either way. I don’t want you to feel any pressure. We will wait. We will have all the patience in the world for your recovery. If you want to see us one by one, go for it. If you want a quick five-minute reunion before you kick us out of your house, by all means. Don’t let anyone else set the pace. Your comfort comes first. Same goes for messages and online activity. I’m sure the moment we hear of your rescue, we will reach out and express our utter joy. Don’t feel pressured to respond to anyone.
Thinking of you,
Tate
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“I want bweakfast.” Okay, that was Zoe. She hadn’t mastered the Rs yet.
“Breakfast is a great idea,” I replied.
I stared at the words in the notebook. I was done for the moment. But it felt like so much was going unsaid. Things we didn’t wanna voice. Worst-case scenarios and worst fears.
I believe, I believe, I fucking believe.
Unsure of how many had stayed the night, I got to my feet and went over to raid the fridge. It would be good to get rid of some leftovers—and we had a shit-ton of yogurt, I noticed. So that settled it, leftovers and yogurt. We had plenty of cereals, fruit, nuts, granola, and muesli. I could set up a yogurt buffet with minimum effort and throw leftovers in a skillet or into the oven.