"I think... I think I was so in love with the idea of saving myself that I didn't realize I was letting myself drown. "

"And now?"

"And now you're my lifeboat."


It was only meant to be a favour. Only meant to be for a few weeks. 

Yet when Stryker Odello finds himself a Daddy for a scarred little boy, he finds the darkness that swamped his life cracking and splits of light shining through.

High functioning alcoholic at best, meeting the needs of the little proved more challenging than he first anticipated. 

Broken and distrustful, getting through to Jamie Sinclair was a hard feat.

Both damaged from the past, hurt and cautious, could they learn to let go and figure out how to love again? 

Or was life's only joy to direct a tragedy?

His Little Boy

Laughter. It seemed to echo around the walls of his room, deep and mocking.

His hands, trembling and almost unresponsive, grasped his head, fingers curling into the short mess of brown hair. Nausea flooded his system, bile building in his throat. Coaching himself through breathing was the only thing that stopped him from heaving. Barely.

/"No,/" Stryker whispered to himself, shaking his head. It was a bad move. He squeezed his eyes shut, battling against the sensation that rode him; it felt almost like seasickness. /"Man up, Odello./"

It was almost twelve hours since he had last had a drink. Almost twelve hours since Maddy had so rudely interrupted him from his party for one.

He didn't need a drink; he wasn't an alcoholic. He was positive the sickness he felt and the banging headache that drummed its way through his head like a fucking bone saw was all to do with the stifling heat that encased the world.

Chapter7