Punishing Me (Shaft on Tour #6)

by Cat Mason

  Even if Big Man had bothered to finish his sentence, the words would have fallen on deaf ears, consumed by baby fever. It’s a free for all to the nursery. I swear you would think none of these assholes have ever seen a baby before. The tiny baby lying on the blanket covered table as doctors check all her over, and do whatever it is that they do, is like a shiny new toy to the girls. They giggle and whisper to each other, no doubt planning to buy out Amazon’s entire infant girl’s department as soon as we get home.

  “I’m a father,” Henry whispers beside me, so quietly, I think I am the only one who catches it. A smile spreads across his face as he stares at his daughter. “Never,” he whispers again, chuckling as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Never thought I’d be standin’ here, saying that shit. Didn’t think I deserved something so sweet for myself in this life.”

  His words surprise me. Henry isn’t the type of guy to go spouting off emotional shit like this. He is a commanding force, though a man of few words. He doesn’t need them to get his point across. But, here he is, on the verge of tears, all because of a tiny human who can’t possibly weigh five pounds.

  “Sometimes, life throws some monumental sized curve balls,” I say, clapping him on the back.

  “Listen, Dominick,” Henry begins, his eyes full of regret as he studies my face.

  “I get it,” I stop him, not needing him to apologize for his reaction. Holding up my hand, I shake my head. “We’re good.”

  “You may think you get it,” he laughs, “but you don’t. Not yet, anyway. Love makes you do crazy shit. You’ll find yourself desperate to become better because she deserves every ounce of good you never knew existed inside yourself.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “Then, beat a friend, a trusted brother’s face in, all because it was easier than facing the fear and worry of losing the reason your heart beats.”

  Funny how he thinks I don’t already know this shit…

  “Love requires sacrifice.”

  “Yes, I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Bowing his head, his eyes close tightly. “Being that we’re on the same page about that, I know you understand why I’ll be sending you out with the band for the last leg of the tour, Dominick,” he explains, his voice low. “I can’t leave my girls, not when they need me most.”

  The baby fever chatter around us dies instantly. “We leave in three days, Big Man,” Aiden says, skeptically. “We would need two more for security detail, not just one to replace Jared. Not to mention, without you, who drives the Big Bitch?”

  “Unravel your granny panties, Aiden,” Hunter says, slapping his brother in the back of the head. “We all knew Henry wasn’t going back on tour with us once the baby came. I’d give my left nut to have been able to be with Jazz from day one. Big Man belongs here.”

  It’s no secret Hunter struggled with guilt when a child he had no idea existed was basically dumped on his doorstep by a woman who never deserved to reproduce in the first place. Every day since, whether he is physically with her, or not, Hunter spoils his princess rotten. With Chase stepping in and adopting Jazzie as her own, from day one, Jasmine has the family she has always wanted, but that doesn’t mean Hunter doesn’t still feel some guilt about the life she had before coming here.

  “Consider it paternity leave,” Camaron agrees, nodding her head. “We can nail down details in the morning. Go take care of Rae and see your baby,” she says, squeezing his arm. “Mack and I are perfectly capable of handling anything that can’t wait until then.”

  After we all say goodbye to Henry, I get everyone down to the ‘Burban and head for the house. The craziness of the day whirls through my mind. Part of me wants to climb on top of the ‘Burban and have one of those climatic moments of realization where it all sinks in and becomes real. Arms stretched wide, thunder and lightning surrounding me, as I accept my new position of power.

  You know, do it up badass like Batman or Captain America would do…

  The other parts of me, the ones who win out, are trying to get a grip. The weight of responsibility on the head of security is a load to bear on any given day. On tour, multiply that shit by a hundred. As I have seen, situations can change fast. You have to be able to think quickly and anticipate anything and everything.

  “I can do this. I can do this,” I repeat inside my head, pumping myself up.

  This is my chance to prove myself. The opportunity I have been waiting for to show everyone, especially myself, that I have what it takes.

  I will not be wasting it.

  The drive to the house is filled with everyone’s collective chatter. Camaron is on the phone, rattling off orders to someone, while Chase and Daisy are already making a baby ‘to buy’ list that will no doubt have Amazon re-thinking that whole free two-day shipping with Prime bullshit. The guys, of course, are giving me shit. As usual.

  “You realize his head’s gonna swell up so big no one will be able to stand in the same room as him,” Gray laughs, smacking the back of my seat.

  “I have no reservations at all about this,” Hunter says, straightening in his seat.

  “Thanks, man,” I reply, glancing over at him quickly. “That means a lot.”

  “Cam? You said the last leg of the tour was all gay bars, right?” he laughs, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Did we book any senior’s halls? I’m trying to anticipate whether groupie pussy will be a problem for the Big Mack and his Whopper.”

  Everyone laughs, even Cam, who ends up having to tell whoever she is nagging at that she will call them back tomorrow morning. Aiden even manages to loosen up, just as we pull up at the house, mentioning how we should see if Red Lobster wants to sponsor the tour with crab bites.

  “Fuckin’ crabs,” I mutter under my breath before laughing myself. Those little bastards are evil. To this day, no matter how tired I am, I still check every inch of my damn bed before even sitting on it. Can’t take any chances around here.

  Safely behind the gates, everyone disburses the minute we are inside the house. It got late quick. I’ve been in contact with Mike over the last few hours, checking in, but I gotta agree with Henry when he says it feels good to have everyone under this roof.

  “Thanks, Mike,” I say, the minute he steps into the foyer. “Everything good?”

  “Yep,” he nods, blowing out a breath. “Kids are in the den with Ireland. So, Big Man has himself a little girl?” he laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t wait to see how he handles another woman tellin’ him what to do.”

  I nod. Clapping him on the back, I head for the hallway to check things for myself. “I have no doubt his big ass is helplessly wrapped around her tiny little finger already.”

  Stepping inside the den, my eyes land on the sleeping bodies on sprawled out across a sea of black, tan, and silver floor pillows. The zebra print throw cover they must have been sharing, Brannon has now completely taken for himself. His face rests on Ireland’s chest, a peaceful grin on his lips.

  “Much respect,” Hunter says, stepping into the room behind me with Grayson. “Every man should be so lucky to sleep every night, face down, in a great pair of tits.”

  “Pint sized pervert,” I laugh, bumping Hunter’s outstretched fist.

  “Don’t hate the player,” Gray defends, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I say, us Cole men love our boobs.”

  “How do you think she’s gonna handle you bein’ the one with all the power on tour?” Hunter asks, with a laugh. “That chick is the president and founder of the ‘I hate Dominick’ fan club.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

  “Just sayin’, man, she ran Jared out on a fuckin’ rail. The girl’s full of vinegar.”

  “You leave Ireland to me.” Walking over, I lift Brannon into my arms. He wiggles, shifting his face, no doubt searching for Ireland’s chest. “Here, take your little nocturnal can cuddler up to bed.”

  Gray laughs. Taking Bran from my arms, he heads out of the room. Hunter scoops Jazzie up, tossi
ng her partly on his shoulder. Instantly, her arms and legs wrap around him, her eyes squinting open to meet mine. “Where’s the baby?” she asks, yawning sleepily. “I wanted to show her the picture I made.”

  “Still at the hospital,” Hunter says, heading out of the room. “We can take it to her.”

  Ireland stirs, wincing almost uneasily, but she doesn’t wake up. Taking a knee, I bend down and brush the hair from her forehead. Her face relaxes again, something I haven’t seen much of since she came back into my life. Long black lashes fan out over her nearly flawless skin, hiding the blue eyes that have always had the power to stop me in my tracks.

  Everything about this woman has both sucked me in, and driven me nuts since the moment I walked into that damn community center and first saw her. I hated my life, hated who I was, and everyone around me just for existing. The worst thing of it all is that I hated Ireland for thinking she could see something in me I knew couldn’t possibly be there.

  Chapter Twelve

  Exchange of Power

  Ireland

  Sitting at the table, the next morning, I sip my coffee. Being that I fell asleep extremely early, while watching videos with the kids last night, I was up before the sun wondering when the hell I had turned into an old woman who can’t stay up past nine. Between phone calls, Camaron fills me in on Rae’s condition and how baby Kara is doing this morning as well.

  Then she drops a bomb on me.

  “Dominick will be taking Henry’s spot on the tour, effective immediately,” she says, her fingers typing away on her laptop screen.

  “Say that again?” I ask, leaning up in my chair and opening my eyes wide. You know, because that means I can hear better.

  “That’s right,” Hunter says, strolling in the room with a pate full of bacon. “Henry has given all power over to Mack. Crazy, huh?” Sitting down, he rubs his hands together. “I’ve been up all night plotting my plan of attack. The list is long, my friends.” He places slices of bacon next to the eggs on Jazzie’s plate. Leaning over, he kisses the top of her head. “Eat up, kiddo. You still aren’t dressed for school.”

  “Mack will still report in to Henry on a daily basis. Their communication has always been a vital part of why things work so well here,” Cam continues, her focus still on her laptop screen. “Though, ultimately, it will be Dominick on the road, making the decisions for the security team while Henry takes over the home base. Henry made the announcement last night, and of course, we support his decision to be here to take care of Rae and Kara one hundred percent.”

  Scooping the bacon off her plate, Jasmine drops to her feet. “I’m done, Daddy.” Hunter nods, telling her to go ahead and get ready for school before continuing to shovel bacon into his mouth like it’s the air he breathes.

  Grabbing my knife, I slice my whole wheat bagel and smear it with my own personal Vegan hazelnut spread. After listening to the girls talk about some Nutella cheesecake they had the other day while shopping, resulting in them buying jars of the stuff to dip pretzels, cookies, and sometimes even their fingers in, I decided to do my research. After some time with my favorite cooking companion, Google, I learned that all I needed was the right mix of cocoa powder, hazelnut butter, and sugar or the right low calorie sweetener.

  One online order to the grocery store, and a delivery later, I got to mixing.

  The girls are right, it’s like crack.

  Even if I guarantee mine is way better than the overly processed jars they buy.

  Hunter chomps into a fist full of bacon, his lips smacking together as he over appreciates every bite of the meaty crime scene on the dinner platter he calls a plate. “Jesus,” Chase groans, walking into the room and taking the seat Jazzie vacated. “That serving size on the back of the package is more than just a suggestion, honey.”

  “Wrong,” he says, holding up his index finger. “I have a theory.”

  “Oh dear Lord,” I mutter, taking a bite of my bagel. “We are about to be Cunterized.”

  “Told you,” he smiles brightly. “I’m writing a book, damn you; I’ve been researching tons of shit. Now,” he says, lacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “The average one-pound package of bacon contains sixteen slices. Of that, sixteen slices the serving suggestion,” he laughs, shaking his head, “is two. I repeat: Two!” he shouts, laughing like it is the most insane number on the face of the planet. “Go to any diner, on any given day, and order bacon, bet your perky little ass you get more than two pieces of fried porky perfection on your plate.” Holding up a piece, he studies it before shoving it into his mouth. “Oscar motherfuckin’ Mayer, himself, does not package sixteen slices in a non-resealable package if he did not intend them all to be enjoyed together.”

  “You realize that Oscar Mayer isn’t some immortal being like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. The man is long dead and now it’s just a face and a company,” I say, cocking my head to the side.

  A crash echoes throughout the house, stopping the conversation immediately, followed by a shouting. “What in the hell is going on around here?” Aiden asks, flying into the room, nearly colliding with Jasmine and a crazy, barking Bits as they dive under the table. “No bombs go off in the Shaft house until after coffee,” he says, walking over and grabbing Cam’s cup, downing the contents.

  “What the actual fuck?” Dominick shouts, slamming through the doorway like a bull in a china shop. His chest is heaving. My eyes move down his bare, colorfully tattooed chest and arms, a trail of red hair starting just below his tight abdominal muscles and disappearing down into low-slung red and black sweat pants. My brain starts to overheat and short circuit. The idea of tracing those lines with my fingers, then my mouth, and tongue, have me ready to rub his against leg and purr like a cat in heat.

  “Who the fuck put the kid up to this shit?” he shouts, snapping me out of fantasizing about fucking him speechless on the dining room table.

  Without the audience of course…

  Since it would be rude to continue staring at the happy trail I want to dig my nails into while I ride his face, I look up and my jaw nearly detaches and falls off.

  “Dude, did you get into a fight with the Lawnmower Man?” Hunter laughs, collapsing backwards into the wall.

  “I woke up to Jazz jackin’ up my hair with a pair of fucking kitchen shears,” he grounds out, holding up a fist full of the long red locks that were once attached to his head.

  “You what?” Chase and Hunter say in unison.

  “I get that we pull some crazy shit, but this…” Dominick glares at Hunter. “How the hell is this funny? I’m in charge and you’re tryin’ to make me look like a joke out the gate?”

  Hunter straightens, his eyes widening. “Jasmine, come here, now,” he says, sternly.

  A hand grips my ankle under the table. Looking down, I meet brown, tear-stained eyes. Her bottom lip quivers uncontrollably. “Hey,” I whisper, pushing my chair out enough to slide into the floor beside her.

  Her eyes cast downward, tears dropping onto her pajama pants and the dark stained wooden floor. My eyes go to Hunter, immediately, heart broken and concerned. This isn’t a joke. No way would a prank upset the bubbly little girl to the point of sadness I see right now.

  Hunter is around the table in seconds, kneeling beside me. “What’s going on, kiddo?” he asks, his brown eyes filling with concern. “Why did you do that to Mack’s hair?”

  “He can’t leave me!” she screams, tears streaming down her face. “I took his power away so he can stay with me.”

  “You took his what?” Chase asks, stepping around the side of the table and stopping just behind me.

  “I told her my hair held all my power,” Mack says, sounding pained. “Like Rapunzel. It’s one of her favorite movies, lately.”

  “If Henry gets the power back, Mack doesn’t have to go,” Jazzie explains. “He can stay and play, and make cookies, and sing with me in the car.”

  Tears burn behind my eyes, emotion lodging in my chest. “She d
oesn’t want to be alone,” I whisper. “Loneliness can be so loud sometimes.”

  As if waving a magic wand, it’s as if Jasmine disappears from in front of me. Replaced with a childhood version of me.

  “Please don’t go,” I beg, gripping my mother’s pants leg. “You promised.”

  “Stop this foolishness, right now, Ireland.” My mother’s tone is stern. Brushing by me, she fills her bag with papers and folders. “We’ve had a nice dinner; now, I have to go back to work. Molly’s here to stay with you. She’s even brought you a present.”

  I hate Molly.

  I also didn’t like Karen, Patty, Marsha, Tina, and Alma, but I definitely don’t like Molly. She’s mean.

  As soon as you leave me, mommy, she will lock me in my room. She doesn’t like me. Please don’t leave me…

  “I don’t want a present,” I sniffle, wiping at my face with the sleeve of my red and green sweater. “I want my mommy.”

  “Don’t be silly,” my mother replies, shaking her head. Stopping, she kneels down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Everyone wants presents on Christmas, darling.”

  Then my mind fast-forwards to years later, through all the times I wished for someone to just see me, stopping on a time when I can say I was completely and totally happy.

  Though, that didn’t last long…

  Did it, Ireland?

  The dull ache in my chest begins to throb in time with my heartbeat. The memories bring the pain and loneliness of past years to the forefront of my mind. I feel helpless as memories of Dominick and I play on a loop, unable stop the violent assault my mind is putting me through.

  “Ireland?” Chase’s voice snaps me back to reality. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” The words come out of me on a rushed breath. Pushing to my feet, I turn, meeting her eyes, along with everyone else’s now fixed on me, instead of Jasmine. Brushing down the front of my shirt, I turn for the doorway. Unable to help myself, I meet Dominick’s eyes. No longer seeing any anger there should make me happy, or relieved, but it doesn’t.