All Chapters of Dirty Daddies Underground: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Harper’s POVThe bathroom is quiet, lit only by the soft golden glow of the wall sconces, the air warm and thick with steam. Theo sets me down with careful hands, like I might break if he moves too fast. My bare feet touch the tile, cool and solid, grounding. But he doesn’t step back, not right away. He stays close, his presence a steady heat against my skin.He reaches around me, twisting the shower knobs gently until warm water streams from the head, misting the space in a gentle hiss. The sound is soft, soothing, like rainfall. I watch the droplets slide over the tiled floor, unable to speak, unable to look at him just yet. Shame still clings to me like a second skin.Theo steps in first, then offers me his hand. I take it, and he guides me in slowly, making sure I don’t slip. The water hits my shoulders, warm and soft, and the first thing I do is close my eyes and let it wash over me. It’s the first thing that’s felt truly real in a while, this simple pressure, this cleansing heat

Mason’s POVThe room is quiet, almost too quiet. Not tense, not cold, just suspended. Like the calm that lingers after a storm when the winds have stopped howling but the world still hasn’t settled. Harper sits wrapped in one of our thick fleece blankets, her bare feet tucked beneath her, her body curled up at one end of the long sectional. Her hair is damp from the shower Theo helped her with, still slightly tangled at the ends. She’s warm, freshly dressed in one of Nathan’s soft shirts and a pair of her own shorts. She looks like something soft and breakable left in our care.She hasn’t said much. None of us have, really. Not since we brought her back out from the bedroom and into the sitting room. She needed quiet. We all did.Nathan sits beside her, giving her space but staying close enough that if she leans, she’ll find his shoulder. Theo and I are across from them, flanking the coffee table. There’s leftover food on a tray, a few finished glasses of water, but none of us are foc

Nathan's POVThis isn’t meant to fucking happen.It’s not meant to go like this.Theo’s staring at me like he expects me to fix it, like I’m supposed to have some answer tucked up my sleeve, but there’s nothing. No protocol. No simple solution. This isn’t a scenario we planned for. And even if it were, nothing about her feels like something you can just plan around.You’re meant to bring someone out of subspace slowly. Gently. You’re meant to guide them back down to earth in a safe, grounded way. Not drag them out by the throat and throw them straight back into panic and reality. The descent should be gradual. Warm. Surrounded by calm and care. Not this.Which is why, when her phone buzzed and she panicked, I didn’t think anything of it. Not at first.Phones can be brutal like that. A single ringtone can rip you from whatever soft place you’ve landed in and slap you straight back into the noise and pressure of the real world. I figured that’s all it was. I thought she was disoriented.

Harper's POVI run, not thinking about where I’m going or what I’m doing, only knowing that I need to get away. The streets blur beneath my feet, cold and slick with rain, and it takes me far too long to realize that I’m not wearing shoes. I don’t notice the pain until I step straight onto broken glass and feel it slice into my foot. Even then, I keep going.I don’t stop to think about how ridiculous I must look, soaking wet and barefoot, sprinting through the early morning streets like something’s chasing me. All I know is the panic clawing at my chest and the wild thought that if I don’t keep running, I’m going to collapse under the weight of it all.Back at the hotel, I’d taken off my shoes without even thinking. I’d folded my legs beneath me on the couch, let myself settle in like I belonged there, like I could let go for just a little while. For one brief stretch of time, I felt safe. I felt warm and accepted and even seen, and now all of that feels like a cruel illusion that sha

Harper's POVI sit alone at the table, hands resting in my lap, legs crossed tightly at the ankles. The flickering candlelight dances across the white linen cloth, casting shadows I can’t quite look away from. My stomach is tight with nerves, and I can feel my heartbeat in places I shouldn’t, my throat, my fingertips, the hollow behind my knees. I’ve been here for less than five minutes, but it already feels like I’ve made a mistake I can’t undo.The air smells like perfume and wine, a rich blend of floral sweetness and something sharp, and I’m trying not to sweat through the fabric of the dress I didn’t want to wear. I keep glancing toward the door, toward the place I saw Mark disappear into, but he hasn’t come back out. I know he’s here somewhere. I just can’t see him. Only the back of his head as he stepped through a side hallway, and then nothing.I shouldn’t have come in. I should have turned around the moment I understood what he’d done.But now I’m here. And the hostess already