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“Where is he?” she asked as Rio loosened his grip now that she was no longer trying to run into the smoking trailer. Her neighbors milled around, shooting her sympathetic looks, all of them relieved the fire hadn’t spread beyond her trailer. She was glad about that, too, but she wouldn’t be able to relax until she knew that Damian—Mr. Elliott… Daddy—and the kitten were safe.
“Give him a minute,” Rio replied, trying to sound soothing, but she could hear the worry in his voice.
Going into the trailer wasn’t the smart thing to do… even to save a kitten. She was never going to forgive herself if Mr. Elliott got hurt because of her.
My Daddy.
That’s how she thought of him, really thought of him, ever since that night at the hotel. Right now, that’s what he was being. Taking care of her, saving her kitten, she didn’t feel like he was Mr. Elliott. That was too distant. Too cold. Right now, he wasn’t being Katrina’s father; he was being Emily’s Daddy, and it made her feel a little bit safer, a little bit less afraid, to think of him that way.
If he got hurt because?—
“There he is!” This time, Rio didn’t hold her back as she ran forward and went straight for her Daddy while everyone else crowded around. Cuddled up against his chest was a tiny, black, purring ball of fur. “Oh my God, you saved him!”
“He’s okay, just scared,” Daddy said, lifting one arm so she could snuggle up with both of them, too. She didn’t realize she was crying until she had both of her arms around him and felt the dampness of her cheek against his t-shirt.
“I was scared, too,” she said with a sniffle.
Daddy rubbed her shoulder, making a small hushing noise, before he lifted his head, looking around.
“Has anyone seen Don Graham?” he asked in a loud voice.
The murmurs around them went silent, and Emily saw shock on more than one face.
“Did Don have something to do with this?” The voice came from the crowd, full of horror, followed by several gasps.
“Very likely. He assaulted Emily before she came running to get me, and as soon as I stepped out of my trailer, we saw the flames.” Daddy sounded grim, tightly controlled fury thrumming through his voice.
Emily tucked her head into his chest. She didn’t care what anyone thought right now. She was just so happy he was okay and that the kitten was okay. She needed to be near him.
No one would blame her.
After all, her trailer had just burned.
Her breathing hitched on a sob as it hit her. Her trailer had just burned.
The sound of sirens filled the air, getting louder. The fire department was here.
Because her trailer had burned.
An hour later, Emily sat on Mrs. Martine’s steps, watching numbly as her Daddy talked to the firemen. Yes, that was still how she was thinking of him. It was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. A Daddy Dom took care of his babygirl. And if he wasn’t her Daddy, then she needed to be handling everything on her own, and right now, she didn’t think she could. But she could lean on him because he was her Daddy.
Part of her brain, a more logical part, knew she was making excuses, but she didn’t care. She was a wailing, sobbing mess, and if she needed to think of Mr. Elliott as Daddy to get through the night, that’s what she was going to do.
Mrs. Martine had her arm draped around Emily’s shoulder, holding the blanket in place to help keep her warm. Not that she felt cold. She felt numb. Though at least her kitten was safe.
“Phoenix.”
“What?” Mrs. Martine asked.
Emily looked down at the little black fuzzball. He purred.
“I’m going to name him Phoenix.”
There was a small pause of silence.
“That sounds like a good name.” Mrs. Martine patted her arm. “Because he rose from the ashes?”
“Exactly.”
