Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

“You do. But you just got home from the hospital. You’re exhausted. You need time to heal. You shouldn’t have to think about this right now.”

“Spike, I need answers. If you have the answers I came here to find, then you have to tell me.”

She was right. She needed to know. And he had to be the one to tell her. Much as he hated to do that.

“She’s already dead. How much more can this hurt?” she asked.

Oh, baby girl. If only she knew.

“Spike.”

“I’ll tell you. Just let me talk to the guys first.”

She rubbed her temples again. He’d noticed how pale she’d grown. “The Iron Shadows guys?”

He nodded.

“Why? What do they have to do with anything?”

“This is their story to tell as well. You getting a migraine?”

“Yes,” she said in a soft whisper. “I need to lie down.”

Fuck it. He wished

he hadn’t said anything now. As though it wasn’t enough that she’d been shot. On his watch. Now learning he knew something about her sister’s death had caused her enough stress to get a migraine.

He stood with her in his arms, hating her whimper of pain.

“After all this, you’re never going to stress again.”

“Pretty sure that’s impossible,” she rasped as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He was careful not to jostle her too much as he slowly walked up them.

Not if she stayed in Little space the whole time it wouldn’t be.

Fuck. Okay, maybe it was impossible. But he was going to do what he needed to in order to mitigate the stress in her life. He would ensure that she knew she didn’t have to do everything on her own.

Laying her down on his bed, he quickly pulled all the drapes. Her bag was still downstairs with Chompers in it. Striding into the bathroom, he wet a cloth. When he walked back to her, she was curled up on her side, holding herself stiffly.

Gently, he drew her hair off her neck and placed the cloth down. Then he ran downstairs, made her a fresh bottle of fairy juice and grabbed her bag, carrying everything back up. Setting the bag down, he pulled out Chompers and placed him beside her.

Then he pulled her pills out.

“Baby doll, you need your pills.”

“No,” she groaned. “Can’t.”

Poor baby.

“Come on, it will help make you feel better.”

She opened one eye to glare at him. “No.”

“I know you’re hurting. Let Daddy help you. Please. I don’t like you in pain.” He hated it. He wanted to do whatever was necessary to fix it. And knowing he couldn’t, it killed him.

“Okay,” she muttered.

She opened her mouth and he gave her the pills then held the bottle to her mouth. Some fairy juice dripped out of the side of her mouth.