She felt completely out of sorts. Her head throbbed, and she would never admit it, but Jaxon was probably right about her not drinking enough water. The stupid helmet he made her wear kept shoving the band of her ponytail into her skull, and the salve Bones had given her to numb the three paintball welts only made her skin feel strange and numb. She just wanted to get to the Sabre warehouse, curl up in a chair in the Little Room with the Musketiaras, and forget the last few hours had ever happened.
Tension radiated from Jaxon, which sucked. But at least with their new helmets, they could talk to each other. The rigid way he held his body was so unfamiliar. Usually, he pulled her close and kept his hand on her thigh. She liked that a lot.
But right now, both his hands were on the steering yoke. Not a word that didn’t have to be said came from him. Hopefully, it wasn’t because he was busy blaming himself for not spotting the threat sooner.
She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t find thewords. He wasn’t in the mood to listen anyway. So she just stuck her hands in the pockets of his jacket and rode in silence.
The engine vibrated through her, which she usually didn’t mind. Now every bump reminded her of the pain in her shoulder and stomach. Even that, however, couldn’t keep her from daydreaming about all the ways she would love to see the General die. No, the only thing that could really cut through her anger was her worry for her Daddy.
When they finally pulled up to the Sabre warehouse, Jaxon killed the engine and helped her off the bike. He kept one arm around her as they walked inside. He constantly scanned the entire area, no doubt searching for any further danger even here, at the clubhouse.
“Let me grab a shirt for you, Darkling,” he said. He walked her to a row of lockers and, opening one of the locker doors, grabbed the shirt. “It’s probably going to be too big,” he said, tossing a black shirt toward her.
She held it up and grinned. Removing her ruined shirt, she handed it to Jaxon, who shoved it in his locker. Slipping the new shirt on, she stared at herself in the mirror. She might as well be wearing a dress since his shirt fell all the way to her knees. “It’s perfect,” she said.
Taking one side of the collar, she held it to her nose and breathed in.
Jaxon frowned. “It’s clean, little girl. Do you think I’d hand you a dirty shirt?”
Men just didn’t understand!
“Silly Daddy, I know it’s clean. But it still smells like you.”
His lips tipped up at the corners. Finally. “Oh yeah? Well, if you want one that smells even more like me, I have one in my locker I haven’t washed. I wore it during my workout yesterday.”
“Ew, gross! I don’t want a smelly, stinky Daddy shirt. I want this one. It’s a sexy smelling one.”
He shook his head. “It’s all yours, Darkling. Now let’s get you to the Little Room.
He guided her straight to the Little room without saying much. The moment they stepped through the door, the girls rushed her.
They dragged her deeper into the room before Jaxon could say a word. Maybe now Jaxon could relax a little.
“You stay here, babygirl. I’ve got a meeting to attend.”
He pointed a finger at her. “Do not under any circumstances leave this room without permission.” With one last glance, he left and shut the door.
She looked around the room. If heaven was a place on earth, it would be this kind of place.
It was a crafting playroom with plenty of comfy seating and every fun activity a girl could want. Soft mats covered the floor. Shelves overflowed with coloring books, markers, board games, and craft supplies. Big beanbags and low couches sat everywhere so the Littles could sprawl out and talk. The air smelled sweet like crayons and fresh cookies.
The best part of the room was the swinging chairs that hung from the ceiling in a circle. Eight chairs, each piled with comfy cushions and decorated to look like princess thrones with their name on a sign at the top. Tazzy’s chair was painted glossy black, with raspberry red, dark purple, and dark pink cushions and pillows. She climbed into it and gave a little push so it swayed gently. The motion felt perfect after all the hugs.
All the girls were there, including Gabi. Instead of taking their own chairs, they surrounded her, worried looks on their faces. Their eyes kept darting to the welt on her shoulder that peeked out from under her shirt.
Georgia hugged her first and held on extra tight. “Oh my gosh! We’ve been worried sick! All I saw was you go down, and then Jaxon yelled that you’d been shot. What happened?”
“I’m good,” she assured her friends and told them everything that had happened.
“Holy smokes!” Georgia said. “I hate that your first time in the Little Room as Jaxon’s Little girl has to be after something so scary. Are you sure you’re okay? Do the paintball welts hurt a lot?”
Winnie climbed into her own swing chair and rocked it gently. “We wanted to stay with you, but the Daddies made us leave.”
Breezy reached over and squeezed Tazzy’s hand. “Can you tell us what happened? We thought you’d really been hurt.”
Tazzy managed a small smile even though her shoulder still stung a bit. “I was hurt, but just a little. I’m more mad than anything. I’ll be fine now that I’m here with all of you.”
Georgia stood up and handed everyone a martini glass. Each rim sparkled with different bright colors of sanding sugar. She grinned as she pulled out a pitcher and started mixing. “Who wants a drink before Tazzy gets started? They’re supposed to be mocktails. At least that’s what I told Hutch when I asked for the ingredients.”