Daddy

by Handel, Shanna

  “I don’t mind that you were on my phone. Or that you deleted Cascade’s text. If the situation had been reversed, I’d have done the same.” Except the other guy would be walking with a limp for the rest of his life. “What I’m upset about is that you didn’t trust me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are but I’m going to punish you so you remember.”

  She scoots away from me on the bed. “I’ve got a great memory.”

  Grabbing her hips, I flip her over on the bed, bending her over the edge of the mattress. “Good. Then the next time you doubt me, you’ll remember this.” I slap her ass. Rucking up her nightdress, I find she’s panty-less underneath.

  “Ow!” She jumps but I pin her lower back to the bed.

  I say, “Spread your legs so Daddy can see how wet he makes you.”

  She moans shamefully, but she parts her legs, showing me that pretty pussy, already slick with arousal. I spank her again, my palm stinging from the impact. She wriggles, unsure if she wants more or wants it to stop.

  I spank her softly, little stinging slaps that warm her skin and make her pussy weep with desire. The slickness pools between her legs, calling for my cock. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she croons, her hips wiggling.

  “Show me how much. Take me in your mouth.” I release her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Unbuckling my belt, I take down my trousers, freeing my cock. It stands to attention, ready for her mouth to wrap around it.

  Eyeing it, she scurries off the bed, nestling herself between my knees. I let out a sigh as she cradles my balls in one hand, grabbing the base of my cock with the other. She gives me the sweetest look, then closes her eyes, her mouth surrounding me.

  It feels unbelievable. She moves up and down my shaft, her hand following her mouth. After a few moments of sheer heaven, I have a deep craving to be inside her. “Come here, baby.” Pulling her up by her shoulders, I help her straddle me.

  Kneeling on the bed, she lifts her nightgown. Her hands go to my shoulders. Her pussy finds the head of my cock, slick from her mouth.

  And she lowers herself down onto me.

  My mind explodes as if having an orgasm of its own. She’s so tight, so warm as she presses down further. I grab her hips, guiding her all the way down.

  Our hips rock together. Her head lolls back and she lets out a soft sigh. Pressure builds in the base of my cock.

  I use her hips to move her up and down. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she curls tightly into me. Buried deep inside her, fulfilling my craving, I find myself thinking this feels like more than fucking... this feels like making love.

  We come together and I find afterwards my heart is as satisfied as my cock.

  Afterwards we lie together, her resting on my arm, curled up by my side. A perfect fit. Tracing little circles on my chest, she asks, “Eli, where were you tonight?”

  “It was a special mission—for you.” I want to give her the ring in the morning, when we’re both rested. “I promise you it was nothing to do with her. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. After we both get some sleep.”

  She says, “Okay.”

  I stroke my fingers lightly up and down her arm as she falls asleep. My wife in my arms, for the first time in my life, I feel fully content.

  When I wake, Charlotte is gone. There’s a note on my nightstand in her scrawling handwriting.

  Dear Eli,

  Emily called me early this morning and needs some help with a few last-minute purchases to send to the Parrish for her nursery. I’ll be home late but there’s leftover pasta in the fridge.

  Charlotte

  Something feels off about the note. It’s colder than the others she’s left me before. There’s usually a little heart with a comma, before she signs her name. Chalking it up to our tense conversation last night, I push aside my gut reaction. “It’s nothing.”

  Going about my day, I can’t quite shake the feeling Charlotte isn’t really with Emily. Just as I’m leaving my office to head out to meet Rockland, I’m surprised to see Luca kissing Emily in the hallway.

  I walk over to where they are, clearing my throat, making my presence known. “Hi there.”

  Emily stands before me, smiling, smoothing her hand over her round belly. “Hey, Eli! I heard you stole my lunch partner, so I’m forced to go out with this old man.”

  Luca chuckles, leaning down and kissing his wife. “I’m not as charming as Charlotte, but I’ll have to do.”

  I knew something was off. “Charlotte told you I was taking her to lunch?”

  Confusion lines Emily’s face. “Yes. That’s why she canceled on me... oh, dear. I hope I haven’t ruined any surprises she may have planned for you.”

  Luca laughs. “She probably has another cooking scheme planned. You’ll probably get a call from her, begging you to come home and change a lightbulb or something and she’ll have a delicious burnt chicken for you.”

  Emily elbows him in the ribs. “Hey, don’t say that! Charlotte’s cooking has gotten really good.”

  He retorts, “Thanks to Mary.”

  I give a reassuring smile; I’ve no desire to involve them further in Charlotte’s lies. “I’m sure that’s what it is. You two go on. You shouldn’t keep a pregnant lady waiting to eat.”

  Emily smiles, patting her belly. “You’ve got that right. I’m eating for two.”

  The handsome couple leaves me, arms wrapped around one another.

  Where the hell is Charlotte, and why has she lied to me?

  Rockland pulls me from my thoughts as he arrives by my side. “Ready?”

  I give him a nod in greeting. Charlotte’s lies will have to wait. “Yes, sir.”

  Unfortunately for us, there’s currently a traitor in our midst. And today, he must be dealt with. In the history of the Bachman family, there have only been a handful of traitors. ‘Turncoats,’ as we call them.

  And in each regime, there is one man charged with seeking such a person out. The Watcher. His alias is known only to the head of the family, and no one else. In addition to his pledge to the Brotherhood, he makes one more, slicing his palm with a thin knife, exchanging a blood pact with the head of the family. It’s one of the most honored positions you can hold in our mafia, though only one man knows who it is. The secrecy surrounding the Watcher is high as there is so much at stake.

  If a Turncoat were to have an inkling of who the Watcher is, it could jeopardize our entire organization.

  The truth is that yes, I am on security detail, dealing with any upsets like I did with the man outside of Charlotte’s house, and during the day, I scan screen after screen, keeping an eye on the Village.

  But these tasks are also a cover-up for my real responsibilities for the family. It’s not just outsiders I’m watching for—I’m surveying the Brothers.

  There’s a thin, silver scar running down my palm.

  I am the Watcher.

  I have a feeling that in our regime, for the first time in our family’s history, there may be two people who know of my title: the head of our family and his wife.

  The more I thought over the marriage proposal, the more I realized Tess’s cunning mind was at play. I wasn’t even surprised when I found out the main reason for the proposal of marriage had nothing to do with Charlotte’s misdeeds, and everything to do with tying me down. For who would ever suspect a happily married security officer, no doubt distracted by his new wife, to be the Watcher?

  We reach the street, climb into Rockland’s black Jeep, the top off of it. The engine roars to life and we take off, heading in the direction of the townhome that belongs to Nicholas, the baby-faced, dark-haired Brother we call Killer.

  We pull up to his house. Rockland turns to me. “Before we do this, you are one hundred percent sure we have the right guy?”

  “Yes.” There’s no doubt in my mind. I’ve collected hours of footage, both in and out of our walls, to prove it. I hop out of the Jeep, taking the
front steps two at a time, I knock on the door, my heart heavy knowing what must be done.

  I hear Nicholas calling, “Hold your horses, I’m coming!”

  “Make it quick,” I murmur.

  He opens the door, wearing no shirt, the fly of his low-slung jeans unzipped. A half-cocked smile stretches over his face, showing his deep dimples. “Hey, bro. Can this wait? I’m kind of busy.”

  “I’m afraid not, we’re going to need you to come with us. We have some business to attend to. Rockland needs you.”

  His demeanor changes, instantly becoming somber. “Is that so?”

  His wife, Hannah, calls from behind him, “Who is it, Nick?”

  “No one important. Can you toss me my shirt, baby?” Nick studies my face as he waits for Hannah.

  She appears seconds later, handing him a black tee shirt and kissing him on the mouth. “Let’s pick up where we left off when you get back.” She gives me a wave and disappears into the house.

  Nick pulls the shirt on, and zips and buttons his jeans. Running a hand through his untamable curls, he jokes, “You guys come to take me away?”

  The dread of what’s to come sinks in my stomach. Murder isn’t easy, but when it’s a Brother you have to kill, it’s unbearable. “Something like that.”

  I climb into the passenger seat of the Jeep, Nick hops over the door into the back seat. He scoots up in the seat, positioning himself between Rockland and me. “What’s up, guys? Picking me up so we can go get some ice cream?”

  Rockland says, “Not exactly. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

  Nick asks, “Who?”

  Rockland rests a heavy hand on my shoulder, “Nick, I’d like you to meet the Watcher.”

  “No shit?” He lets out a low whistle from in between his teeth. “Eli? Congrats, man. What an honor. I had my suspicions, but then you had that hasty marriage and I figured it couldn’t be you. Just goes to show, you never can tell.”

  Rockland says, “I’m afraid this isn’t just a social call.”

  “Ah, yes. The business we must attend to,” Nick says, referring to our code. It means someone we must kill. “Who’s the poor asshole that gets the pleasure of making my acquaintance today?”

  I say, “You already know him.”

  Nick laughs. “Let me guess. Politician? Drug lord? Debt collector? Hey, why haven’t we left the Village yet?”

  Rockland pulls up to the empty field at the back of our property. “It’s a Brother. One you know well.”

  The mood in the Jeep instantly changes, Nick no longer jovial. After a heavy minute, Nick says, “Damn, I hate this.”

  I say, “Us too.”

  Rockland sighs, “It should never happen. But once in a while, despite our best judgement, it does.”

  Nick asks, “Who is it?”

  Rockland doesn’t answer, just stares out over the open field. I follow his gaze till I see our man.

  Trevor Bachman. Our newest recruit. I knew something was off with him about a month ago, but it’s taken this long for me to prove it—I’d never take a Brother’s life without absolute certainty.

  It turns out he’s been working for the other side, feeding secrets about our legit accounts to people in power who may benefit from the knowledge. Why did he do it? For the money? We all have plenty of that. The power? Starting at the bottom of the ranks and not moving up fast enough for his liking?

  Who knows? I never figured out his motive, and now it’s too late. Rockland wants this done, quick and clean, no time to extract information from him. Besides, I’ve already gathered everything we need to know in order to control the breach.

  I just don’t know the why.

  On his daily jog, Trevor spots the Jeep, smiles and waves to Rockland. When he sees Nick climb out of the back seat, his smile wavers.

  Then he sees me. And he knows.

  He takes off running in the other direction, but Nick is fast. I’m faster. I outpace Nick, tackling Trevor and knocking him to the ground. I hold him down, ready for Nick to do his work.

  There’s the usual pleading, excuses, lies that all come before death. Nick pulls a knife from his belt, promising a swift and painless death.

  As I watch the life drain from the young man’s eyes, I think of how this could be my fate one day. How this could be me, lying on the ground in one man’s arms while another ends my life.

  And on that day, in that moment, what would my final thoughts be of?

  It’s not the Brotherhood, or my family, or my past conquests that come into my mind as I imagine my last breaths.

  Charlotte’s face floats across my vision.

  The way her nose squinches up when she laughs. That glint she gets in her eyes before she says something naughty. That eager look of hope that crosses her face when she’s wanting to please me. The way her body feels when she’s tucked beneath my arm—a perfect fit.

  In this moment, with another man’s blood pouring down my arm as he gasps for breath, I come to a shocking revelation.

  I love her.

  I truly love her in the manner than she’d hoped I would.

  It only took this moment, this ending of a life, to reveal it to me.

  I love her, and I need to tell her so.

  When I arrive home, bloodstained and bruised, bursting through the door, ready to proclaim my love, I find the house empty, quiet.

  Charlotte is nowhere to be found.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte

  I’m in an ill lit section of the city. Alone. It’s raining. I’m soaked to the bone. And I’ve dropped my cell phone in the gutter. Most of the stores are closed, their doors locked and barred, and even if I could find a phone to use, the sad truth is, I have no idea what Eli’s phone number is—I use his contact, which I named, ‘Hubby.’

  Eli’s banned me from calling anyone from our hometown. And after this trick I’ve pulled, I’ll not do another thing to upset him.

  The city streets no longer seem friendly, as they were when I viewed them from the top floor of the hotel restaurant Eli and I dined in. As I make my way down the deserted sidewalk, I think of all the little things Eli has said and done to protect me, to care for me, to show me he’s committed.

  I was a fool to think I needed to go on this mission of my own—to find Cascade and beg her to stay out of our lives. The idea was bred from my insecurities. Though I trust Eli, I just don’t want the thought of competition in my marriage—even if it’s bred from my own imagination.

  When I first set out this evening, I was so sure of myself. After a little investigation, and a few white lies to the studio secretary, I discovered where Cascade was filming, what time she’d be getting off, and where the cast was meeting for drinks afterwards.

  My actions make Pearl’s accusations correct—I’m a little bit of a stalker at heart.

  I set out on foot, not wanting to raise our driver’s suspicions and have him report back to Eli that I’d gone rogue. I was navigating just fine, using the map on my phone, when someone bumped into me and I dropped the phone down in the gutter. It went right through the grate and I watched in horror as it disappeared from sight.

  A less headstrong person would have seen it as a sign and turned around and headed home. Unfortunately, stubbornness is in my nature. Instead, convinced I could find the Hobgoblin Pub by my memory of the map, I kept going.

  Now, my feet hurt, I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do. A stranger approaches me, and though I feel fearful, I see kindness in his eyes.

  He asks, “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you lost?”

  “I-I am. Can you help me find the Hobgoblin Pub? I’m supposed to meet some friends there but I’m afraid I’ve gotten turned around.”

  He says, “The Hobgoblin, huh? I think I know it. A little hole in the wall dive bar not too far from here.”

  Relief washes over me as the man gives me directions, telling me I’m only two blocks from my destination. Thanking him, I take off, jogging in the right dir
ection. “Right on Church, left on Edenton. Right on Church, left on Edenton.”

  A few minutes later, I’m standing before a green and gold sign that proudly states Welcome to The Hobgoblin Pub. A smile breaks out on my face.

  It quickly melts away when I catch a glimpse of my reflection.

  My curls are soaked, matted to my head like a wet dog. My attempts at makeup have all been washed off. My clothes are wrinkled and soaked and filthy.

  Still, I’ve come this far, I have to press forward. Besides, if I look this hideous, maybe Cascade will feel sorry for me and take pity on me, honoring my request.

  Putting on a brave face, I open the door. I’m met with a warm gust of air that gives me hope. I step inside, taking in the atmosphere. There are two fireplaces filled with real wood-burning fires, their mantels made from mahogany. Sconces made to look like candles hang from the dark burgundy-papered walls. The wood floor is scuffed and sticky but I can see how the place has drawn such a crowd. It’s the coziest little bar I’ve ever been in.

  Remembering my mission, I crane my neck, searching all the tables for her. Finally, I see her beautiful face, laughing with her friends. She’s right smack in the center seat of a round booth, tucked in the corner, surrounded by faces I recognize from the show.

  And I’m going to have to make a fool of myself and interrupt them all. Making my way toward the table, I ignore the nerves that threaten to make me turn around and leave.

  I clear my throat. “Cascade?”

  She looks up, her brow furrowing. After a moment, recognition floods her face. “Charlotte! Eli’s friend, right? How are you? What a funny coincidence!”

  Hoping she doesn’t ask for the details of my coming here, I stammer, “Hi. May... may I speak with you a moment?”

  “Of course.” She excuses herself from the table, half her friends having to slide out of the booth to let her out. She comes around to where I stand. “How are you? Did your dad like the photo?”

  “He loved it. Thank you.”

  She glances around me, smiling. “Who are you here with?”

  I say, “I came by myself. To see you.”

  She looks confused. “Oh... what about?”