The Shepherd (The Game 6)

I didn’t hear anyone who was farther away from us. The fire alarm rang too loudly.

How the fuck had this happened?

I didn’t wanna know the exact thoughts running through Reese’s and River’s heads now. If this hurt me, as one of the founding members, it had to be devastating for the Tenley twins. This was their home, their post-PMC career retirement plan, their passion.

Archie blocked my view when he kneeled between my legs and started dabbing a wet towel over my face.

My instinct was to tell him we could bother with cleanup later, but then I saw the look on his face. My sweet boy was barely holding it together. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and I had a feeling they would spill over as soon as he stopped finding things to distract himself with.

“I was so scared something would happen to you,” he croaked. “God, you could’ve—” He stopped abruptly and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hey. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” I pulled him to me and cleared my throat. The coughing was fading, thankfully. It hurt less now too.

I felt Archie trembling against me, so I figured he was letting go. It was okay to relax again. The danger was over. I hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head, and I listened to Sloan begin the process of comforting Corey.

“It’s okay, little one. Let it all out.” Sloan mirrored my position and shifted Corey between his legs. “You’re safe now.”

The boy whimpered and cried into his hands. “I don’t know what to do now. I like my room here so much, and I use it when I don’t want to go home.”

I kept my eyes on the firefighters working around the house but listened intently to whatever piece of truth might spill from Corey’s lips.

“You don’t like being at home?” Sloan murmured.

Corey shook his head. “I hate it. And I hate Denver!”

Such as that one.

I glanced over at Sloan and nodded to him. If Corey was upset enough to cry it out in a virtual stranger’s arms, Sloan could probably be blunt about where we were going from here.

“Well, Greer has an idea,” Sloan said patiently. It was the first time in ages I saw the Daddy Dom in him making an appearance. “He thinks we should bring you home with us so Archer and I can get to know you better.”

Archer.

Couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

Corey sniffled and looked up at Sloan. “You’re doing your Dom thing, right? You don’t want any subbies to sleep alone tonight?”

I chuckled under my breath, which unfortunately set off a new round of coughing.

“Partly that,” Sloan agreed. He wiped some soot and grime from Corey’s cheek. “Partly because a sleepover is a very powerful weapon, and we want to use it to make you stay on the East Coast.”

Corey straightened instantly and looked over at me, back at Sloan, back to me, several times over. “What do you mean by that? Daddy says I gotta go support him.”

I clenched my jaw and couldn’t help but interfere. “You do precisely what you want, Corey. If you don’t want to go to Denver, you shouldn’t have to.”

He bit his lip. “That’s what Shay and Cam said.”

Brats got it right sometimes.

He hesitated some more and kept glancing between us, Archie included. “I think I have to go live with Daddy,” he admitted. “But I love sleepovers and don’t want to be alone tonight. If it’s not too much trouble—”

“You’re coming with us.” Archie cut him off kindly but firmly. “Master has told us so much about you, and we’re looking forward to spending some time with you.”

I sent Corey a quick wink, and he mustered a slight grin.

“The last thing you are is trouble,” Sloan added. “Unless it’s the good kind of trouble.”

“What’s the good kind?” Corey asked.

“The way you are with me.” I didn’t miss a beat. “Playful, full of shenanigans, sweet, headstrong—I could go on and on.”

Instead of beaming at the words I knew fit him so well, he grew more hesitant. Almost as if someone had recently told him those traits were the opposite of desirable.

“If you’re sure…” he mumbled.

Surer than ever.

The fire was declared contained shortly before nine PM, and by then, I’d played my Dom card to ensure Corey had seen one of the EMTs. Colt had gotten away with a first-degree burn on his arm and some minor blistering, and I diagnosed myself as “healthy as a horse, but if I start seeing soot in my saliva, I’ll go see a doctor.”

Archie was mildly amused.

Over the next couple of hours, our job was to get everyone home safely, preferably not alone. We talked to subs, we talked to Tops, we talked to everyone in between, and we decided to host an emergency munch at Macklin’s restaurant on Sunday. Just so we could all chat and whatnot.