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“Here.” Someone threw a soft blanket over the top of Michael’s head. The soft fabric didn’t do much to muffle the noise, but the little cocoon was perfect for letting him hide. And Michael wanted to hide. Forever.
“Thanks, Jace. Are the boys okay?” Finn asked.
“Avery and Caleb are locked in the bathroom. They’ll be fine. Uh, do you want me to hold him so you can…pull up your pants?”
“I got him.”
That was Jackson.
Michael was shifted over and he knew it was Jackson that now held him. Jackson’s hold was lighter, still tight, but he wasn’t as big as Finn. Michael kept the blanket over his head but tried to force his body as close as he could to Jackson’s.
“Can you take him upstairs to the office?” Finn asked. “I’ll be right up.”
Michael wanted to protest. What if Cary Jeffers got away? What if he went after Daddy again?
“I’ll stay with Grant and Finn until Grant’s backup gets here,” Jace said.
“I need to alert security and clear the club,” Finn said. “Please take Michael to the office.”
“What about Avery and Caleb?” Jackson asked. It was obvious that he was reluctant to leave Finn as well.
“I’m going to have Mitch and Byron come pick them up. We’ll be here a while, getting this sorted out,” Jace said.
“Okay,” Jackson said.
A corner of the blanket lifted, and Michael whimpered.
“Hey, little bit,” Daddy Finn said softly.
Michael sniffled. “Not leave Daddy.”
“Please let bubbie take you upstairs. I promise it’s all over. Daddy wants to you tucked away for when everyone gets here.”
More people? Michael didn’t want to be around more people. “O…okay, Daddy.” If that was what Finn wanted.
“Thank you, baby. And thank you for saving us. That was really brave.”
Michael didn’t feel brave. He felt like a baby.
“I love you.” Finn kissed him gently.
“Love you, Daddy,” Michael whispered.
Finn kissed him one more time then thankfully the blanket was lowered again and Michael was back under his cocoon.
They started to move, but Michael didn’t care as long as Jackson didn’t try to set him down. Jackson’s phone was ringing in his pocket. Or at least Michael figured it was in his pocket. It wasn’t like Michael could see anything.
He was safe in bubbie’s arms and Daddy would be with him soon. He hoped.
With his left arm tight around Jackson’s neck, Michael lifted his thumb to his mouth. He wished he had his pacifier, but he didn’t keep any of his little stuff in the club. He usually played on his breaks. The club was supposed to be his safe place. Would it ever feel safe again?
He could feel when Jackson began to climb the steps up to the office with the way his body moved and the small grunt that escaped. Michael might be small and although bubbie was more muscular, he wasn’t that big. Not as big as Daddy.
Fresh paint assaulted his senses as Jackson punched in the alarm and the door unlocked. The new security keypad and system in place. They’d had the week to finish redoing the office, but the strong paint odor still lingered.
“Let’s cuddle on the couch,” Jackson said softly.
The leather couch. Not the gray one that Michael had been looking at. They had decided together to save the plush couch for the house. That they would build or remodel.
