Page 130 of Bride of Choice

The noise Doogie made said he wasn’t cool with this new, go with the flow side to his mother.

“And just for that, you get to help clean the floors,” she told him.

Doogie gaped at his mother as she left to grab a few things.

Nudging Kooky and Odix, I stuck my tongue out at Doogie, laughing like a lunatic when Kooky and Odix did the same.

My life was madness. No. It was too crazy for madness. This was beyond that. It was adness, completely and utterly.

And this stuff right here? I loved it.

Chapter 18

“What’s that you’ve got there, bubby?” Picking up the very lifelike picture of scenes from the forest, I felt like I was reliving that day.

Walking down the hall on my way out the back door, relegated to staying within the village as Kooky left on another Krampus hunting mission, I felt much more prepared for an extended stay this time.

Makeup done up, feeling like a million bucks, yeah, I’d needed those couple days of R & R back at Celuk’s with nothing but me, Kooky, and a sweet lil greedy potato-corn-baby.

It was a bit disconcerting that no one in the village said anything about my extended absences. If they’ve noticed, no one’s called me out on it.

Daisy and Red had all those littles to contend with, those breast feeding new additions at the top of the pile, as well as their mates, my friendships with the other mate-brides were either of the acquaintance sort of closeness or sporadic at best. Many family groupings tended to spread out, along the border of the village. As their families grew, so did the need for more space.

The majority of the main/middle village were singletons.

Anyone who knew what was truly up didn’t hold it against me. There was that.

I suppose I should be grateful I was like a village sprite, popping in and out at will as needed. No babies clinging to me, or mates for that matter. I did as I pleased.

Why did this not please me at all?

A grimace stole over my face, exposing my feelings on the matter, as I lifted the first picture to find a terrifyingly realistic depiction of a Krampus ready to attack on the next.

Dropping the first picture, my jerking movements knocked a thin, leather bound folder on Doogie’s desk.

Scrambling to pick it up, I paused, spying a familiar face, a recurring theme in his portfolio.

Daisy. Daisy. Another one of Daisy. And another.

They were all of Cottontail.

I managed to stuff them all back inside and shove the thin volume back onto his desk before he was any the wiser.

So many things were starting to make sense now with Doog-meister.

Like thinking about him had conjured his ass, he paused as he walked into his room, scowling at me and then his desk.

“You drew these? They’re really good.” My compliment was lost as he cut in with a grunted, “Ugh. You here.”

Hurt but feeling stupid about it because why should I let his stupid butt get to me, I rolled my eyes at him and flounced from the room with a snickered, “Had to come check out the funk. It stunk like something died in here. Whoops! It was just YOU.”

Doogie’s splutters serenaded me on my way as I collected my rolling suitcase. With a quick good-bye to Dorothy and her mates, I rolled the fuck on up out of there.

There’d been a major debate as to where I should stay this time around, my old hut or Bia’s.

I had a lot of mixed feelings about staying at Bia’s place now, especially after my run-in with a Krampus at my window.

As this was my life we were talking about here, I decided that no matter what anyone thought best, it was honestly probably best if I tried it back at my place. My hut had yet to be breached by Krampus and was covered in Bum-bum’s pee to boot. If they were smart enough to cross the river bordering my place and stupid enough to tempt pissing Snow Patrol off, they deserved a kiss from ol’ McClintock I was packing. After a very long conversation with Kooky, in which I’d admitted I still had my gun, if put in a very special place for safe keeping, the fool had made it his mission to sneak out late one night, hunt it down, and bring it back to me in the little wooden box I’d buried it beneath my garden in.

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