Daddy's Bunny {Book One}

𐙚 ⋮ 7. skeletons emerge ꒱ ‧₊˚

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The elevator ride down to the lobby allows confusion to set in. There's something off about this guy. Who demands a one-on-one? The lobby stinks of arrogant bastard. Olivia seems thoroughly uncomfortable. The man leaning against the reception desk is grungy. He's tall, but skinny. Grade A scumbag by the looks of him. Every breath he takes is stale, the air around him filled with the overwhelming scent of cigarettes. His dark hair is overgrown, and his hands are dirty with the smell of motor oil.

Ignoring him, I turn to Olivia. "Someone here to see me?" I ask. This guy turns to me, his shit-eating grin reaching ear-to-ear. "Mr. Alden." He says enthusiastically and reaches his grease covered hand to me, "Let's get on with this meeting, man." Hesitantly, I comply, shaking his hand. "My office is this way." I say blankly, walking back toward the elevator. The ride up is mostly silent, minus whatever dumb shit he manages to blurt at me. He keeps his hand down the front of his jeans, with his thumb hooked over the waistband. He chews his gum loudly as he leans against the wall. "What's your name? I don't believe you've introduced yourself thus far." Without looking he responds. "Logan." and pops a bubble of gum, piercing the silent air of the elevator. The door opens, revealing the hallway leading to my office.

"This way." I gesture flatly toward the very end of the hallway, exiting the elevator quickly. He makes large strides, as if the building is his own. Approaching the door, he stops. Turning to face me he says, "So, Dave. What's your personal life like?" His grin is sly, his words hang in the air like his cigarette smoke. "That's an oddly phrased question." I respond expressionlessly, as I guide him into my office. Emma is sitting in my office chair, coloring with her markers. She looks so focused and calm, but I notice her body seemingly tense at the sound of Logan's boots against the hardwood floor. I have the instant urge to sit her against me, to protect her from him. She looks up, expecting me, and her face goes grey. She begins to cry and sputter, no hope of catching her breath. I immediately put her in my lap, holding her close against me while she hyperventilates. "What's wrong, bunny? What's wrong?" I ask her worriedly. I don't know what to do, or what caused it. "No no no no no no." she mutters through her crying. I'm confused, but I know I need to keep her close. "I'm not sure exactly the cause of this, but let's please make this meeting quick, Mr-" I trail off. "Keen." He blurts, completing my thought. As much as I want to, I can't deny him residency based solely on the response of my little, or his arrogance. He slouches in his chair, one arm over the back of it. He seems overly confident.

I toss a stack of papers onto my desk in front of him. "Sign these on the dotted lines please, Mr. Keen." I instruct as I've done countless times. He takes the stack with a nervous look on his face, the arrogance draining from his eyes. Did he assume I would simply hand him keys to a brand new house?

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At the door, he taps Emma's nose gently. "Goodbye, little one." He says sharply, before exiting my office. I slam the door behind him and redirect my attention to her. It hurts seeing her this painfully upset. I cup her chin in my hand, getting her to meet my eyes, and wipe her tears with my thumb. "Please, angel, tell me what's wrong." What she tells me fills me with the purest rage I've ever felt.

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"Here for me, dada." I resist the urge to yell. I don't want to scare her when she's like this. I don't want to upset her more than he already has. "What do you mean he's here for you, angel?" I ask, as calmly as possible. "He know me. He hurted me, dada." her lip begins to quiver, and I pull her close before she starts to cry again. Something happened before I was around, that much is clear. I'm not sure what it was, nor do I feel appropriate poking into the situation. I need to show the little prick that if you hurt my girl, you don't come out unscathed.

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Curled up with Em on the floor of my office, I make the necessary calls, attempting to devise a plan that will hopefully sort him out most satisfyingly. She leaves to use the bathroom and collect herself. Thinking about his grimy face and stale cigarette breath is enough to make me want to puke. This cocky, arrogant bastard thinks he can enter my place? He thinks he can torture Emma with his presence on my watch? He's sorely mistaken. "Hey Kel, yeah. I want a meeting scheduled for tonight. Dinner, my place. Tell everyone to bring their fucking critical thinking skills." She sounds confused, but obliges me. "Alright, you're the best. Thanks, lovely." I put my phone down as Emma returns from the bathroom. "My little duckling! Come give your daddy some love." I smile at her and outstretch my arms. She comes toward me quickly and climbs into my lap. I shield her tightly with my arms. She's soft and warm, the perfect little princess. She deserves to feel safe. She deserves to feel loved. Logan Keen deserves to feel suffering.

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