Page 18 of His Big Bad Stick

“And this is the pride and joy of the house,” my old man says, pointing to me. “This is my son, Colver.”

“Clover?” Abrielle’s mother asks.

Abrielle’s snorts with laughter.

I look in her direction and she turns and hurries outside.

Fucking naughty kitten… I’ll make her pay for that later…

“Colver,” I correct my new alleged stepmom.

“I am so sorry about that,” she says in a happy voice. “You know, Abrielle gets that all the time. Gabrielle. You two should get along just on that alone!”

“Definitely,” I say.

I feel my father staring daggers at me.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” I say.

“Heather.”

“Heather,” I say. “What a beautiful name that is.”

“Charming young man you are.”

“Runs in the family, right, Dad?”

That gets a laugh out of both of them.

I smile.

Look at this bullshit. This fake family bullshit.

“Can I get you a drink, sweetie?” my old man asks his new bride.

“Something to celebrate us?” Heather asks.

Ut-oh, there it is. The shovel is in the ground, digging already.

“Most expensive wine I’ve got?”

“Only if you love me.”

I can fucking throw up right now.

I properly excuse myself and walk back to the hallway where Abrielle and I were so perfectly introduced.

I don’t hesitate for a second to go into the room she’s chosen (so far).

Her bag is on the bed.

The way I see it is her bag is on the bed that’s in the house I live in.

She needs to learn how to protect her shit and herself.

Welcome to having a fucking family, kitten.

There are two parts to her bag.

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