“Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper, my eyes fluttering shut. “You’re the best.”
I want to say more, but something stops me—it’s too soon, I know it is, but I want to tell Max that I think he could be my Forever Daddy.
Somehow though, I manage to stop myself.
“Felix’s story was super-cool,” I say, shifting the subject. “He’s my furry BFF!”
My words are soft, slurring, as Littlespace pulls me under completely, my mind drifting to a place where there’s just me, Max, and Felix, no tours, no Trent, no threats.
I’m satisfied, body and mind, from the wild passion in the forest to this gentle moment, and as Max’s steady heartbeat lulls me, I drift off to sleep, dreaming of snow leopards and my Daddy, knowing I’ve found something real.
I can only hope that when morning comes, it all feels just as wonderful…
Chapter 16
Max
Get up.
Up. Up. Up.
Time to move…
The crack of dawn pulls me awake, my internal clock ticking like a metronome even in this snowy hideout.
The cabin’s quiet, the blizzard’s howl finally dulled to a soft whisper, and I peer out the frosted window to see the snow has stopped falling, the drifts settling into a heavy blanket that nearly had us snowed in.
We came dangerously close, the piles against the door threatening to trap us, but the calmed skies give us a window, a brief reprieve before we have to move, and move sooner rather than later.
Billie’s still fast asleep in my bed, his face soft and peaceful.
Felix is tucked under the boy’s arm like a guardian. Billie’s hair is all mussed on the pillow, and I can’t help but pause, watching him breathe, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that calms the storm in my head.
Last night—first the raw, wild heat of our forest encounter, then the gentle lull of him slipping into Littlespace with that bedtime story—it’s got me tangled up in him, in ways I never expected but on some deeper level knew would be inevitable once I crossed the line.
I brush a strand of hair from Billie’s cheek, careful not to wake him, and slip out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor as I head to the kitchen.
“Hmmm,” I mutter quietly. “Time to get moving.”
The cabin’s stillness is a stark contrast to the chaos in my mind. I need coffee—black, strong, the kind that burns away the fog and sharpens my focus.
I set the pot brewing, the rich, bitter aroma filling the air as I roll my shoulders, preparing for my morning stretches.
I’d rather be in a gym, pumping iron, feeling the weight of a barbell in my hands, but I’ve grudgingly accepted that stretching’s crucial, especially now that I’ve pushed past my thirties and into my forties.
Movement keeps my body limber, ready for whatever this mission throws at me—and with Trent’s shadow looming larger every day, I need to be at my best. My years in the Night Ops taught me that—stay sharp, stay alive.
I think back to my first mission, a gritty extraction in a war-torn city, dodging bullets and carrying a wounded diplomat to safety. That’s when I learned to keep my body and mind honed, to never let my guard down. I was young, naïve, and thought I was untouchable. But after that first outing, I knew that there’s no such thing as a straightforward mission—as the ensuing years have proven, often brutally so.
Billie’s different, though.
He’s not just a mission.
He’s my Little, maybe my Forever, and that makes protecting him feel personal, urgent.
As the coffee brews, my phone flashes on the counter, a soft buzz cutting through the quiet. I grab it, expecting another update from Mr. G, but it’s Cole, my guy, the man I trust to dig into the dirt others miss. And by the looks of it, Cole’s been doing what he does best…
COLE: Trent tracked to a Varkov syndicate meet in city. Known gangsters—extortion, trafficking ties, all round pieces of shit. Financial hack confirms Trent’s embezzlement from multiple clients, including asset. Offshore accounts, shell companies, millions siphoned. Motive unclear—profit, leverage, or cover for worse. The Varkov’s don’t play small. Extreme caution advised. You’re my brother, Max—be careful with this.
