Mastered by Malone (Haven, Texas 6)

Oh, baby. Oh, his poor baby.

“Mia! Mia, baby. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Alec.” He crouched down, realizing that looming over her probably wasn’t the way to make her feel more at ease. “Baby?”

“A-Alec?”

“It’s me, sweetheart. You’re safe. You’re safe now.” What was she doing in there? “Did you get scared because of the storm? Is that why you’re in here?” But that made little sense, she’d had to have already have the extension cord ready to get the lamp in there . . . unless . . .

“Oh, baby, how often do you sleep in here?” he asked.

Another clap of thunder sounded, and she cried out. Her legs were curled up to her chest in a protective gesture. He needed to get her out of there. As much for his own peace of mind as for hers. But he couldn’t just grab her and risk frightening her further.

“Baby girl, I’m going to pick you up, okay?” he said in a low voice. “You know it’s me. It’s Alec.”

“Sir,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“Be Sir. I think I can get out if you’re Sir.”

He felt as far from Sir as possible, the idea of dominating her in order to get her out of the closet felt wrong so on many levels. But if this is what she needed.

He straightened. “Kitten, I want you to get out of there. Now.”

Her arms dropped down from where they had been anchoring her legs to her chest.

“Kitten. Out. Now. Kneel here.” Fuck, he felt like the world’s biggest jerk. But she came out, crawled her way out to kneel at his feet. And then that was enough. More than fucking enough as far as he was concerned. He was going to hold her.

And he was going to tell her she was safe.

That she’d always be safe. With him.

He crouched down. “Baby, I’m going to pick you up now. Because I need to hold you. Badly.”

“You need to hold me?” she asked in a shaky voice, looking up at him.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“O-okay.” She held out her thin arms to him and he scooped her up, standing with her held tightly in his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down. She let out a startled cry, clinging to him. “Don’t leave.”

He lay down beside her, gathering her in tight, and placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going nowhere, baby. Not ever. And neither are you.” She was trembling against him. She startled in fright at another clap of thunder. “Jesus, baby. How often have you been sleeping in the closet?”

“I know it seems weird. You must think I’m a headcase—”

“Sh. I don’t think that at all. I do think that I damn well should have known you were sleeping in a fucking closet.”

She let out a small cry and buried her face against his chest and he suddenly realized she thought he was angry at her. He grasped her chin, pulling her face firmly up. He could see her clearly with the light from the bathroom shining down on her frightened features.

“Listen to me, baby girl. I am not angry at you.”

“I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess,” he said firmly.

She gave him a look of disbelief. “I’m a mess.”

“All right. You’re a bit of a mess. But if you’re a mess, I’m a fucking disaster.”

She sucked in a breath. “What do you mean?”