Over the next two days, I became increasingly anxious about the situation with Jace. Matthews...Marc had the patience of a saint, but I didn't share that trait. I was aware that we had to form some sort of plan before we tried to get him out of there, especially since I refused to get the police involved. If we did, Jace would most likely end up in prison. Even so, I wanted him out of there as soon as possible, afraid that he would be ruined once we tried to help.
Marc talked with the guys that worked with security at his club, but they weren't all that cooperative. Apparently, Sam had gathered somewhat of a reputation around the city. Marc's solution was to consider sacking the team, but I tried to tell him that it was a bad idea. We didn't need to make another set of buff guys angry.
Around lunch time, I got a message from Marc that he was coming home. Tilia and I were playing a game of Monopoly, and I tried very hard not to laugh when she took it too seriously.
I thought it odd that he would be home already, since he left mere hours ago, saying that he'd be home by midnight. I wasn't complaining, however. More time with him was just a bonus.
Tilia threw a six and moved her piece across the board, pouting when she landed on my slot.
"Some rent, please."
"This is boring, Ethan." She said that every time she landed on one of my properties. The opposite happened when I landed on one of hers.
"Marc will be here in a bit. Should we make him lunch?"
"But we're playing," she said, clearly not too bored with the game yet.
"I bet you're hungry though, aren't you?"
She patted her stomach. "No. It's not making sounds."
I laughed. "It doesn't need to make sounds."
"Yes it does."
"Nope. Come on, let's look what we have in the fridge."
She perked up at that. "Can I choose?"
"Maybe. Depends on what you're choosing."
She frowned. "That's unfair."
I laughed again. "Definitely unfair, but I doubt Marc wants pancakes for lunch."
Rolling her eyes, she got up from the floor and trudged to the kitchen. I could hear her open the fridge. "Ethan, it's empty."
"I hope not." I got up and joined her. Peering into the fridge, I realized what she meant. It wasn't empty, but definitely lacking a couple of things.
"Your daddy better do some shopping."
She smiled at me. "Can he buy candy then? Please, Ethan."
I was about to tease her for being a kid, but then I remembered that she actually was. She could act very mature at times, but she plenty of childhood left.
"We can call and ask," I suggested.
She skipped away to the phone and returned to me, placing it in my hand. "I don't know his number."
I dialed the number and gave her the phone. She chewed her lip as if preparing to ask a question she knew he didn't want to hear. The fidgeting continued until he answered.
"Hi, Daddy."
I couldn't hear what he replied.
"Ethan says you have to get food, but I want candy."
She shook her head. "No, food and candy."
Her shoulders slumped. "Okay." She gave me the phone and crossed her arms, looking up at me as if she wanted me to solve the situation.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi, is the fridge empty?" Marc said. The sound of his voice was enough to make me a little bit warmer.
"It's kinda empty. Wouldn't know what to make of what's in there."
"Good thing I'm coming home then. We have to get you a car, by the way."
"No. I don't need a car. I don't have a license."
"Then we'll have to get you a license and a car. I'll get some take-out on the way. I'm starving. We can go to the store later instead, and Tilia can argue for her candy."
It was a good thing that he couldn't see my reaction to his words. I tried to smooth it over. "Sure. Why are you back so early, by the way?"
"Because we have to talk. I got a phone call from a friend of mine. But I'll tell you when I get back. See you in a bit."
It had to be about Jace, and the impatient part of my brain screamed at me to ask him more. His clear dismissal was enough to silence me, however. We would talk soon. He better not take too long, though.
"Okay, see you later." I wasn't able to close the call, instead I placed the phone on the table, hoping that he'd do it for me.
Tilia's blue eyes sparkled. "What did he say? Will he get candy?"
"We'll go the store later, so prepare your argumentation."
She looked confused. "Armentation?"
"Argumentation."
"What's that?"
"You have to convince him."
She beamed and clapped her hands. "I can do that."
———
Marc returned with boxes smelling of Chinese. Tilia launched herself at him the moment he closed the door.
"Daddy, I really need candy later, please?"
He chuckled and patted her head. "What you need is some real food, honey."
That didn't discourage her, however. She continued to talk about what kind of candy she had to have while the two of them entered the kitchen. I fetched some plates and cutlery, hoping he wouldn't enforce the use of chopsticks.
Although we didn't exactly hide our relationship in front of Tilia, we weren't very obvious about it either. Therefore, he waited until she had turned her back before giving me a quick kiss.
"Sorry to leave you without food," he said.
"You're here now, so it doesn't matter."
We sat down and it struck me again how odd it was that I somehow had entered their normal day to day life. Some of the most precious moments spent with these two revolved around breakfast, lunch or dinner. They made me feel like a part of their family.
The food was delicious, not too spicy for Tilia's sake, but still with that fine mixture of salt and sweet. She soon excused herself from the table after we were done and disappeared upstairs. Apparently, she'd had enough of Monopoly for now.
"So, I got a phone call from a friend. He's ready to help us."
At first, I couldn't answer. I just sat there with my hands shaking slightly against the table.
"He's ex-military and has a bunch of friends who don't like injustices."
"Is he for real?" It sounded a bit too good to be true.
Marc took a moment to answer. "Yes, I believe he is. I know him from the club, and he's a good Dom. Plus, he has no reason to help us beyond showing that he's good guy, which he's proved enough times, already."
"He's from the club?" Way to state the obvious, but I was surprised.
"Yes, he's a regular. Been a member for over two years."
"What's his name?" It wasn't important, but I wanted to know. I imagined that his name would somehow let me glimpse his character, which was very odd, and paved the way for prejudice.
"Andrew, but everyone calls him Drew."
I saw an imaginary face before me, but waved it away, knowing that it had nothing to do with reality. "So, how will he help us?"
"He's getting back to me tonight. Apparently, he also knows more than enough about Sam and his business. Getting quite rep around town, it seems."
I almost asked why the police weren't doing anything, but then I remembered how many times I had thought the same thing. The police usually kept away from the darker parts of society they were supposed to stop. Whether that was because of bribes or something else didn't matter. What matter was that they focused on the crimes related to those who made their voices heard.
"I want to be there," I said.
"It's just a phone call."
"No, I mean when they get him out."
"I wonder if they want us there. If they're trained, we'll just be in their way."
I sat back against the chair. "I don't care."
Marc shook his head. "I know you don't, but I also don't want you there. My job is to keep you safe, Ethan. Letting you in there goes against everything I know."
"You don't have to protect me. I've been through worse."
Marc's eyes appeared darker as he nailed me with a piercing stare. "Maybe I don't have to protect you, but I sure as hell want to."
I realized right away that I'd stepped on the wrong toe, or foot. Shit, he was not happy.
"Marc, I know. I'm sorry. I'm not used to this. Someone wanting to protect me."
He visibly deflated, the anger evaporating into thin air. I wasn't sure it was anger he had shown, but at least something similar.
"Come here," he said, moving his chair back. It took me awhile to realize what he wanted, but when I did, I drowned in something akin to embarrassment but tinged with happiness.
I straddled his lap, perhaps not what he aimed for, but it felt like the right thing to do.
"Now you're playing with fire," he teased, nipping at my bottom lip.
I laughed. "You're tame. I have nothing to fear."
He laughed with me. "Oh, how wrong you are."
His comment filled me with pooling pleasure, a longing for something to happen. Still, I trusted him to wait until I was ready. "Not tame, then, but patient."
"Very patient," he replied, squeezing my ass like the tease he was—or maybe I was the tease.
A/N Or maybe I'm the tease...:P
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