Fierce Daddy Read online

  “Razor? Everything okay? Do you need me to come back?”

  “Are you still in your car? Why aren’t you home yet?”

  Oh. Shit. She bit her lip. She’d been sent home from work to rest. Not shop.

  “Oh yeah, I had to stop on my way home for some groceries.” She crossed her fingers at the small lie. It was basically a white lie, right?

  “Can you pull over safely? I don’t like you talking and driving at the same time,” he said firmly.

  Her eyebrows rose at the question, but she found herself pulling into a parking lot.

  “I’m on my Bluetooth.”

  “It’s still distracting. When you’re driving, you should only be driving. Not talking at the same time. Do you do that often?”

  Never. Mostly because no one ever called her. In fact, in the last month, she’d only received calls from her cousin, her power company, and now Razor.

  Wow. That was sad. She really needed to think about how closed off she’d become from everyone. Was she really that worried about getting hurt that she’d rather isolate herself than risk getting harmed?

  “So you never use Bluetooth?” she asked suspiciously.

  “We’re talking about you. Not me.”

  Ahh, she got it. One rule for him and one for her, huh? She frowned.

  “You left three hours ago. How many groceries did you need?”

  “Um, not many. But then I ran some other errands.” There, now it was definitely just a white lie.

  She still kept her fingers crossed. She wasn’t about to break that sacred law of lying.

  “I sent you home to rest.”

  “I’m going home to rest right now.”

  “What was so important you had to stop?”

  “Sanitary products,” she blurted out, crossing her fingers at the lie.

  Jesus, Tabby. You’re normally a better liar than this.

  Why was she so rattled? Why hadn’t she just told him the truth? It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. But nooo, she had to make something up and now he thought she was on her period.

  If she’d thought he’d start stammering or acting awkward because she’d mentioned the words, ‘sanitary products,’ she was very mistaken.

  “Ah, poor baby. You need anything?”

  That was a very un-bosslike thing to say. Or at least, she didn’t think an employer usually showed sympathy for someone on their period. Or called them baby. But damn, she liked hearing him call her that.

  “Sorry, fuck, that was really inappropriate, huh?”

  He sounded upset. Instantly, she wanted to help him feel better.

  “It’s fine,” she told him. “I know you just care.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not acceptable. I’m your boss.”

  “Razor, you’re a great boss. You’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m the only boss you’ve ever had,” he replied dryly.

  “You’d still be the best, even if I’d had others.”

  He let out a scoffing noise, but she was sure she could hear a smile in his voice. “Right.”

  “Do you need me to come back to work, boss?” She didn’t know how she’d manage the delivery of the fish tank if he did, but she was certain she could figure something out.

  “No, I was just calling to make sure you were all right.”

  “See? Best boss ever. I should get you a mug that says that.”

  He laughed. “Thanks, Tabby.”

  “For what?” she asked, surprised.

  “Making me feel better. I really am sorry about what happened today.”

  “It really wasn’t your fault,” she insisted.

  She heard someone call his name.

  “You should go.”

  “You’re heading home now?” he queried.

  “Sure am, boss.”

  “And you’ll rest.” It wasn’t a question.

  What was his obsession with her resting? She shook her head in confusion. “I’ll rest.”

  If by rest, he meant would she get a space ready for her fish tank, attempt to make potato and leek soup, then watch reruns of Scooby-Doo. Then sure, she’d rest.

  “And you don’t need anything?”

  “No, I don’t need anything.” She was slightly puzzled by what exactly he meant.

  “Heat pad? Extra Ibuprofen?”

  Oh Lord.

  Was that the sweetest thing ever, or what? Was he really offering to bring her stuff to help with her period pains?

  Not that she actually had period pains. And now, she felt lower than dog poo. Shoot.

  “I, um, no, that’s okay. Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Someone called out his name again.

  “Call me tomorrow if you don’t feel up to coming in, all right? And anytime if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  He was so sweet she wanted to cry.

  “Go straight home and rest. No answering any more calls while driving.” The call went dead.

  And there he was.

  So bossy.

  She smiled the entire way home.

  That night, Tabby curled up under a soft blanket and watched the Scooby-Doo movie with Scooby on one side and Snappy on the other.

  Snappy was in a mood because he didn’t like the addition of her new fish. She stared down at the sulking stuffy.

  “I told you, Snappy, I’m not buying you a girlfriend. Can you believe him, Scooby?” When she realized who she was talking to, she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I’m losing my mind. Maybe I should have gotten a puppy. At least talking to your puppy is acceptable. Talking to your stuffies, not so much.”

  That made her think about Luna, Razor’s dog. She was adorable. And the way she stared at Razor was just too cute. She figured you could learn a lot about a man by the way he treated his dog.

  Or his employees.

  Razor was a good person. And she really had to stop lying to him. Even small, white lies with her fingers crossed.

  Now, the poor guy thought she had her period. And she was probably going to blush as soon as she saw him in the morning.

  But talking to her fish was more acceptable. She reached in for a handful of buttery popcorn. She’d made soup for dinner, with enough left over for lunch tomorrow.

  She turned her attention back to the movie. “Ooh, it’s starting to get good. Are you watching this, Daphne, Fred, Shaggy, and Velma?”

  Yes, she’d named her pet fish after the cartoon characters. She’d also managed to find an adult-sized Scooby-Doo onesie online. She just hoped that Jared wasn’t paying attention to her credit card bill. He hadn’t mentioned anything when she’d talked to him yesterday.

  It was payday on Tuesday. Her first paycheck.

  Life was really starting to look up. She had a job she was finally starting to get the hang of. A great boss. Mostly good co-workers, Weasel Dick didn’t count. She had some fish. And a vibrator.

  What more could a girl want?

  7

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  She took it all back. Life was not looking up. At all.

  How had she made this mistake?

  This was the worst Monday morning ever.

  “This isn’t what I ordered. I promise.”

  She couldn’t even look at Razor. He was staring from his hand-written note to the invoice that had been printed off from what had arrived from the supplier. Along with the supplies. Which were vastly more than should have been ordered.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Razor told her. “We can send back the excess. At least everything is here.”

  “I should have double-checked the order before I sent it.”

  She’d come in on Friday morning, entered the last two items, then she’d intended to send it off, but a customer had come in. And then she’d gotten caught up in the accounting system. And she’d just sent it off.

  This was all her fault.

  “I’m so sorry, Razor.” She felt ill.

  Great. She�
��d been here three weeks. She shouldn’t make fuck-ups like this anymore.

  “It’s not a problem, Tabby,” he said quietly, even though he looked tired. “We’ll just return what we don’t need. Call the supplier first, then book a courier. Just make sure they take it off the invoice. Okay?”

  It wasn’t okay, though. She felt sick to her stomach.

  “Hey, look at me.”

  She couldn’t, though. She didn’t want to see any disappointment in his eyes. Or pity. So she raised her gaze to his chin instead.

  Razor sighed. “Tabby, it’s a simple mistake. Everything is here that we need to continue on. It’s fine, all right?”

  She nodded.

  “Now, you coming for a drink Wednesday night for Tommy’s birthday?”

  “Ah, no, I don’t think so.”

  “Tabby, stop worrying. And think about coming for a drink, all right? We’re going to Reaper’s Bar, where the Iron Shadows members hang out. Millie goes some weekends, she’s been asking after you.”

  She raised her eyes up, feeling startled. “She has? She remembers me?”

  “Of course she remembers you.” Razor’s eyes filled with a tender look that she assumed had to do with Millie, not her.

  She’d like to see Millie again, but did she really want to go to a bar filled with bikers? Not really.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You feeling okay?”

  What, other than feeling like a complete and utter failure? Sure, she was feeling hunky-dory.

  “Sure. I feel great.” She tried to smile.

  “Good. Let me know if that changes. And if you need to use a heating pad, you go right ahead.”

  Lord. She was an idiot. He still thought she had her period.

  Damn it. How could he still be so nice when she’d fucked up so royally?

  Tabby drove past the closed gate for the garage with a yawn. She’d known nobody would be there yet, it was barely six-thirty. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing here.

  But she’d been unable to sleep, going over and over her mistake in her head. Even playing around with her vibrator hadn’t helped.

  And when she’d finally nodded off, she’d had dreams about Luther all night. He’d been laughing at her, calling her names.

  So about five this morning, she’d headed out on a run, making certain to take her pepper spray and stun gun.

  As she was going past, something caught her sight. The gate was partially open. Was there someone there? But none of the lights were on anywhere. She parked up in front of the gate and got out, looking around.

  Should she call Razor? Probably the smart thing to do. Drawing out her handbag, she grabbed her phone. And her pepper spray.

  Then, before she could call him, she saw someone running past the office.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” she cried out. Shit! Should she run after him? But what if there was more than one of them?

  She had her pepper spray, though. And this was Razor’s business. Razor, who’d given her a job. Who’d been so kind, even when she’d messed up.

  The sound of something smashing filled the quiet.

  Crap.

  “Hey, get out of there! You’re trespassing.” Someone raced towards her and she was too slow to get out of his way. He slammed into her, sending her flying backward. She landed on her ass with a groan.

  That was going bruise later. Getting onto her knees, she searched around for her pepper spray and phone. She’d dropped both when that jerk slammed into her. She found her pepper spray, but before she could locate her phone, there was another smashing noise.

  “Stop! Get lost! I’ve called the cops!”

  Shit! Where was her phone? As she got to her feet, two more figures rushed out at her. They were dressed all in black, with hoodies up over their heads, obscuring their faces.

  They raced past, one of them knocking into her again. Only this time, her ankle turned under her and she crashed to the ground. Her hands scraped along the asphalt and she let out a cry of pain, tears filling her eyes that she wouldn’t allow to spill.

  Toughen up, Tabby.

  You’ve been through worse.

  Grabbing her ankle, she sat up with a groan. She was such an idiot. What had she seriously expected she would be able to do?

  She helped one person, and now she thought she was freaking superwoman?

  Stupid. So stupid.

  The roar of a bike sounded, and then a headlight lit up her car before the bike turned into the concreted parking area.

  Shoot. Razor was going to kill her.

  Razor was already on edge, having been woken by his alarm company. Then having to race into work.

  And now . . . his eyes had to be deceiving him, right?

  Because that could not be Tabby’s car sitting in front of the opened gate.

  And that could definitely not be Tabby sitting on the ground, holding her ankle and staring up at him with a pale face.

  Turning off his bike, he pushed down the stand and hopped off. Then he raced over towards Tabby, who was trying her best to get up off the ground.

  “Tabby! Baby, what happened? Are you all right?”

  “I’m so sorry, Razor. I tried to stop them. But one of them slammed into me. I lost my phone and my pepper spray. I found my pepper spray, but I don’t know where my phone is. If I could have, I’d have stopped them. I don’t know what they did.”

  Stop them? What the fuck was she talking about? Stop them?

  His heart raced even faster. Had she seriously attempted to stop the people who’d done this?

  He was going to kill her.

  Why weren’t the security lights on? Even with the sun rising, they should still be on. He glanced quickly around, but couldn’t see her phone. And he had more important things to worry about right now.

  “Where are you hurt?”

  “I twisted my ankle when one of them knocked me over.”

  “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he swore, crouching in front of her. Forgetting why he shouldn’t just touch her, he ran his hands over her legs then her arms. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Is it just your foot? Did you get a good look at them?”

  “They wore all black, with hoodies up over their heads. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see their faces.”

  “It’s all right, it doesn’t matter. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “Just my hands.” She turned her hands over. He needed to get her somewhere warm and light so he could properly check her.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get you inside.” Right then, all he cared about was making certain she was safe, and that she wasn’t hurt worse than she was letting on.

  Because he knew that she definitely underplayed things. She’d done that when Gary had scared her, nearly hitting her. She’d acted unaffected. But he’d seen the way the skin around her eyes had pinched, the small tremble in her hands. She wasn’t as unaffected as she liked to act. Maybe she believed her own lies, but he knew differently.

  He slid a hand under her legs and around her back, lifting her.

  “Razor, you shouldn’t lift me! Put me down!” she cried out, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He liked that. Having her close. Having her cling to him. Her scent, something sweet, teased him.

  “Why can’t I?” he asked in a soothing voice. She sounded as panicked as he’d ever heard her. And she was clinging to him like he was an anchor in the storm. Not that he was objecting.

  Not at all.

  Pervert.

  “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  Oh, hell no. She didn’t just say that.

  “You trying to say I’m too old to carry you?” he growled.

  “Um, no, of course not.”

  He grunted. That was exactly what it sounded like she was saying.

  “I could carry you for hours and be fine,” he boasted, walking towards the front door of the office. “And there’s nothing wrong with my damn back.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t me
an to insult you. I’m just not used to anyone taking care of me. Not like you do. Luther never cared if I was hurt or injured. I mean, I guess that could be because most of the time he was the one to cause the injury . . .” she trailed off as though realizing what she’d just said.

  “He can’t ever hurt you again.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “Just wish he’d never had the opportunity to hurt me in the first place.”

  He set her carefully down while he drew the key out of his pocket.

  “Me too, baby girl. Me too.” He opened the door then grabbed her again.

  “I really can walk.”

  “No. You can’t,” he replied firmly. He carried her into the office and set her down on her desk before turning on a light. He grabbed the first aid kit from a cupboard. Opening it, he drew out one of those snap ice packs.

  “You need to go check what they did,” she told him urgently. “You have cameras, right? Do you want me to call the police?”

  She tried to slide off the desk and he reached for her. “What do you think you’re doing? Sit down.”

  “I’m fine. I want to know what damage they did.”

  “Whatever they did can wait until I make sure you’re all right,” he told her firmly. He handed her the ice pack. “Put that on your ankle.”

  She stared up at him, eyes wide. “But I’m okay. It’s just a twisted ankle and some scraped palms. Seriously, I’ve had a lot worse.”

  And he fucking hated the thought of that. Grasping hold of her hand, he turned it over, hissing.

  The need to take care of her warred with his need to ensure that there was no further danger outside. But right now, she wasn’t suffering from injuries that needed immediate attention. So her safety came first.

  “Just stay right there. Do not move, understand me?”

  “But there’s nothing wrong with me.”

  Nothing wrong with her? Her pants were torn. Her palms were bloody and she’d hurt her ankle. Nothing wrong?

  “I’m going to go check that there’s no one else around,” he told her. “You’re to stay right here and not move, understand me? I’ll lock the door again, just in case.”

  “But, I—”

  “I mean it, Tabby,” he warned. “You move and I’ll put you over my knee.”