Big Bad Daddy: A Single Dad and the Nanny Romance



I knew I was in trouble. I knew I had no right to do what I had done, and I knew Mr. Black was going to come after me. I didn’t care. I welcomed it in a way. My boss was involved in sex trafficking? It was too much. It wasn’t something I was comfortable with, and it wasn’t something I was going to put up with. I would have to run or end it. As I pulled into my apartment’s parking garage, I swore to end it. I wasn’t going to run. I had saved one woman—the beautiful woman who sat beside me, who hadn’t taken her eyes off me, who looked terrified—but what about the rest of the women who had been there? The ones who had been sold before the Mediterranean beauty I had bought? Those who were sold after?

“We have to hurry,” I told the scared woman. “I want to make sure you’re safe, and then you can go. You can go home—I can help you—but you can’t yet. You’re going to have to stay with me for a bit.”

“You’re letting me go?” she asked. Her voice was low and soft; it sounded sweet like honey.

“Yes,” I said simply, and then I was out of the car and rushing around to her side. I opened her door and helped her out.

“You saved me,” she said. Then she threw her arms around me. I let her, sliding my own arms around her, and took in her scent as she buried her face in my chest. She smelled wonderful, like peppermint. She looked up at me and placed her hand on my face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. They’ll be coming for me, and you. For both of us. We have to get to safety, and then we’ll get you home. We have to get out of Brighton Beach,” I said.

Brighton Beach was the Russian equivalent of Chinatown. It was in New York, ocean on one side, city on the other. From my bedroom window I had a view of the water. We rushed upstairs, and I took a minute to glance at it. Silver moonlight was reflecting on the slow-rolling waves. A boat slid through the dark water, churning up white behind it.

My new bride of sorts stood by the door while I packed. I took my guns, some clothes, and the fifty grand I kept in cash hidden in a safe behind a painting in my bedroom. We hurried down to my car. We had only been in the apartment for five or so minutes before we were peeling out of the parking lot.

“What’s your name?” I asked the woman. She had an accent, and I was confident that I had been right about her being from Greece.

“Chloe,” the woman said softly.

“I’m Peter,” I said. We drove through the city, the night traffic not as bad as the day-time traffic but still forcing us to go much slower than I would have preferred. We were stopped at a red light when a dark sedan pulled up behind us. I kept my eyes on my rearview mirror. It was exactly like my own car, exactly like the ones Mr. Black gave all of his grunts. I realized I was an idiot for driving my own car, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I watched the vehicle behind us, waiting for the door to open, waiting for Vlad or someone else to step out and open fire. The light turned green and I pulled through the intersection. The car behind me turned, and I realized I had been holding my breath the whole time. I let it out in a gasp and glanced over at Chloe. She was looking at me, her legs pulled up, knees to her chest, and her arms wrapped around them. She didn’t say anything, but she smiled at me, and I was reminded of why I was throwing my life away in the first place. There was something about this woman, something that made it all worth it.

We got out of the city and drove for two hours before we finally stopped at a small motel. It was situated along a lonely two-lane highway. The clock on the dash read one in the morning. An hour before I had stopped in a diner parking lot and swapped my plates with those of another dark sedan. It wouldn’t stand up to a cop running the plates, but it passed the eye test. I hoped I wouldn't get anyone hurt, but years of being the bad guy had given me a healthy sense of self-preservation.

We parked behind the motel and walked around to the front office. The clerk was a guy of only about twenty, and his eyes were glued to a small TV with some superhero movie playing. I paid for a room and took Chloe to it before getting my bag and joining her.

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