Protect Me Daddy

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I clutched Dwight's card in my pocket as I hurried down the darkened street, my footsteps echoing off crumbling brick walls. Shadows seemed to reach for me from every alley and doorway. My heart raced, but I forced myself to keep a steady pace.

A streetlight flickered weakly overhead, illuminating a spray-painted curse word before sputtering out entirely. I shivered, pulling my thin jacket tighter.

Just a few more blocks, I told myself. Almost home.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind me made me freeze. No. Please, no.

"Told you to watch yourself, sweetheart!" Earl's drunken voice cut through the night like a knife.

I broke into a run, fumbling for my keys. How long had he been following me? How had I not noticed?

"Aw, don't be like that," Earl called, his words slurring together. "We just wanna have a little fun!"

We .

Oh god.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. Earl's hulking form was silhouetted against the dim glow of a distant neon sign. Two other figures flanked him.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I sprinted down the street. Home was so close. If I could just make it. . . .

But they were faster. Stronger. I heard them gaining on me with each pounding step.

I stumbled into the narrow alley, where my apartment was, and ran to my front door. Somehow I managed to drop my keys. I stooped to grab them but I heard them so close by. My stomach dropped as I looked up to face my pursuers.

Earl's eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger that chilled me to the bone. Gone was the drunken swagger from earlier—now his gaze was sharp, calculating. Dangerous. His two friends spread out, blocking any chance of slipping past.

"Think you're too good for me?" Earl's voice was low, menacing. "Nobody embarrasses me like that, sweetheart. Time to learn your place."

My fingers brushed against Dwight's business card in my pocket. I wished desperately that he was here, that I wasn't alone. But I was.

"Please," I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded. "Just let me go. I want to go home."

Earl's laugh was cruel. "Oh, we're way past that now. Don’t worry. We’ve got a whole new home for you. Somewhere where good-looking girls like you get treated like princesses."

A new home?

My heart pounded. Were they going to take me somewhere? Kidnap me?

As he reached for me, something inside me snapped. I wouldn't be a victim. Not again. Never again.

I lashed out, my nails raking across Earl's face. He howled in pain and surprise.

"You little bitch!" he snarled.

I kicked and thrashed, fighting with every ounce of strength I possessed. But one of Earl's friends grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. Pain lanced through my scalp.

Earl's fist rose, his eyes blazing with fury. I braced myself for the blow, wondering how I'd explain the bruises at work tomorrow. If I even made it to tomorrow.

"Let her go."

The voice was like a thunderclap, rumbling with authority and power.

Earl and his friends froze, all eyes turning to the tall, imposing figure who'd materialized at the mouth of the alley.

It was Dwight Brookes. He stood there, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He looked . . . powerful. He exuded an aura of confidence and strength that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I said, let her go."

This time, Dwight's voice left no room for interpretation. It was a command, laced with the promise of violence if disobeyed.

Earl and his friends shared a glance, weighing their options. The man holding my hair tightened his grip, as if to reassure himself of his control over me.

Big mistake.

In one fluid motion, Dwight launched himself at them, a blur of leather and rage. His fists were like hammers, his kicks blurs of lethal force. It was over before I could even blink, Earl and his friends reduced to a groaning, bloody heap on the ground.

“Fuck,” Earl groaned, “you broke my fucking arm!” His face was contorted in agony.

Dwight's presence loomed over them, his chest heaving from exertion but otherwise unfazed by the melee. "Touch her again," he growled, his voice cold as ice. "And breaking that arm will be the least of your worries."

Earl whimpered, nodding frantically. Dwight released him, and he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his friends and disappearing into the shadows.

The alley fell silent again, the only sound our ragged breathing.

Slowly, my eyes crept up to meet Dwight's. There was no judgment in those stormy depths, only concern. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, his voice soft and tender.

I nodded, unable to form words as a wave of relief washed over me. He was here. He'd saved me.

"Let's get you home," he said, carefully brushing the hair from my face. His touch was soothing, reassuring.

“This is actually my place here,” I said, gesturing to the door I leaned against.

“Convenient,” he said. “Although it’s not ideal that those guys know where you live.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“Am I in danger?”

He sighed. “I hope not. Plus, I’m going to make sure that you’re safe.”

The adrenaline began to wear off, and the weight of what had just happened crashed down on me. Forgetting myself for a moment, I took hold of his hand, desperate for warmth and reassurance.

"Thank you," I whispered, clinging to his hand. "I-I don't know what would have happened..."

"Shh," Dwight soothed, pulling me closer to his side. "You're safe now, that's all that matters. No one will ever lay a hand on you. I promise."

His words washed over me like a balm, chasing away the lingering fear. I knew he meant it. I realized that I was more than just grateful to him.

I was falling for my protector.

"Please," I whispered, hating how fragile I sounded. "Please don't leave me alone tonight." I don’t know why I said it, but I couldn’t help myself.

Something in Dwight's expression softened, a protective concern filling his eyes. He nodded.

In a blur, I somehow managed to unlock the door to my place. Once inside, the familiar surroundings only emphasized how wrong everything felt. I moved on autopilot, filling the kettle for tea. My hands shook so badly I could barely manage it.

"Let me," Dwight said gently, taking over.

I nodded gratefully, sinking into a kitchen chair. The sound of the kettle whistling pierced the silence, making me jump. As Dwight reached for a mug, my elbow knocked it off the counter. The ceramic shattered on the floor, the noise triggering something primal within me.

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. The walls of my tiny apartment seemed to close in, threatening to crush me. Sobs tore from my throat as I gasped for air.

"I can't– I can't do this," I choked out between tears. "Sometimes I just... I wish I could go back. To when I was little, you know? When someone else handled all the scary things and I felt safe."

Dwight's strong arms encircled me, and I buried my face against his chest. In that moment, I felt truly protected for the first ti

Dwight's response surprised me with its gentleness. His hand on my back was warm and reassuring as he guided me to sit on the worn armchair.

"Let me take care of things for a while," he said, his deep voice soothing the frayed edges of my nerves. "You don't have to be strong right now."

Something in his tone made me feel instantly safer, smaller. I watched through tear-blurred eyes as he began tidying up with practiced care, sweeping up the broken mug and wiping down the counters.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, embarrassed by my breakdown.

Dwight paused, his piercing gaze softening as he looked at me. "There's nothing to apologize for, Tilly. You've been through a lot tonight."

His words washed over me like a warm blanket. I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling vulnerable yet strangely protected.

"How about a nice warm bath?" Dwight suggested. "It might help you relax."

I nodded, grateful for his guidance. As he ran the water, I could hear him moving around my small apartment, opening drawers.

"Where do you keep your pajamas?" he called out.

"Top drawer," I replied, my voice small.

When he returned, he was holding my softest pair—the ones with little clouds on them. My cheeks flushed, but Dwight's expression remained free of judgment.

"The bath's ready when you are," he said gently.

As I stood, wobbling slightly, Dwight's gaze fell on something behind me. He reached past, picking up the worn stuffed rabbit that sat on my bed. Without a word, he held it out to me.

That simple gesture broke down my last walls. Tears welled up again as I clutched the stuffed animal to my chest, feeling simultaneously exposed and utterly safe.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice catching.

Dwight's hand brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear. "You're safe now, little one," he murmured. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, okay? I’ll wait in the living room while you wash."

I nodded, following him to the bathroom, my rabbit held tightly in one arm. For the first time in years, I felt like I could truly let go, knowing someone else was there to catch me.

True to his word, he left me to sink into the bath myself. For some reason, though, I didn’t lock the door. Somehow I knew that Dwight wouldn’t break my trust.

The bath was good—soothing and warm—and I almost managed to forget my troubles for a little while. I had Red Rabbit sitting in here with me, watching me while I scrubbed my skin til it was pink.

When I was done, I dried off and slipped into my PJs, before going to find Dwight. He looked relaxed in the living room. “Feeling better?” he asked.

“Mmmhmm,” I replied. “I’m so grateful to you for all this.”

“Don’t mention it. I have a kind of . . . rule that I don’t leave young women in dangerous situations.”

“That’s weirdly specific rule.”

He laughed. “Right. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning, if you like, but first, let’s tuck you in. I think you need to get some shut eye.”

I settled into bed, my fingers instinctively curling around the soft fur of Red Rabbit. The weight of the day's events still clung to me, but Dwight's presence beside me acted like a shield, keeping the worst of my fears at bay.

"Comfortable?" Dwight asked, his deep voice rumbling through the quiet of my small apartment.

I nodded, burrowing deeper into my blankets. "Yes," I whispered, surprised by how small and young my own voice sounded.

Dwight's eyes scanned my bookshelf, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled out a worn, leather-bound volume. "How about a story?" he suggested, holding up the book of fairy tales.

My heart swelled with an unexpected surge of emotion. "You'd do that?" I asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Of course," he replied, settling into the chair beside my bed. As he opened the book, the familiar scent of old pages wafted towards me, instantly transporting me to a simpler time. “Sometimes, connecting to the happiness of childhood is the best way to forget a shitty day.”

Dwight began to read, his rich baritone painting vivid pictures of far-off kingdoms and brave princesses. I found myself inching closer, drawn in by the warmth and safety radiating from him.

"...and the dragon roared, its fiery breath scorching the very air," Dwight read, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper.

I gasped, clutching Red Rabbit tighter. "Is the princess going to be okay?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

Dwight paused, looking down at me with a tender smile. "Why don't we find out together?" he suggested.

As he continued reading, I felt myself slipping deeper into a peaceful headspace, the worries of my adult life fading away. Dwight's strong, nurturing presence enveloped me, making me feel truly protected for the first time in years.

Without thinking, I reached out, my small hand finding his larger one. "Thank you... Daddy," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

I froze, terrified I'd ruined everything. But Dwight simply squeezed my hand gently, his voice never faltering as he continued to read about brave princesses and fearsome dragons, guiding me into a world where I felt safe, cherished, and small.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me as Dwight continued reading, his deep voice soothing away my momentary panic. He paused only briefly when I called him 'Daddy', but his gentle hand never stopped stroking my hair. The rhythmic motion lulled me further into a sense of security I hadn't felt in years.

". . . sometimes, princesses need to slay their own dragons. And this princess realized she was stronger than she ever knew," Dwight read, his words resonating deeply within me.

I yawned, snuggling closer to him. "Just like me?" I mumbled sleepily.

"That's right, princess," Dwight replied, his voice warm with affection. "Good girl."

Those two simple words sent a surge of warmth through my entire body. I felt myself melting into the bed, the weight of the day's trauma finally lifting from my shoulders.

"Will you stay?" I asked, fighting to keep my heavy eyelids open. "Until I fall asleep?"

Dwight's hand paused in my hair, and I felt him shift slightly. "Of course, little one," he promised. "I'll be right here, sleeping on the floor. The monsters can't get you tonight."

For the first time in what felt like forever, I believed it. As I drifted off, still clutching Red Rabbit, I heard Dwight's voice growing distant, weaving tales of safety and protection. In that moment, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.