Page 80 of Daddy, Sir

“Speaking of ick, I have to say your dining table looks no worse for the wear. Guess you’re not throwing it out after all?”

The arms around me dropped as one elbow jabbed into my ribs and her other hand pointed to the countertop where a large can of furniture polish sat. “Now that it’s also been de-icked, it can stay.”

I was still laughing when she announced she was going to grab the towels and add them to the washer where she’d already deposited our clothes. It wasn’t until I saw her on her tiptoesas she bent over to stuff the laundry into the machine that I remembered another one.

“Hey, check the pocket of my jeans. I don’t want the remote to get all wet.”

“The remote wasn’t in your pocket. It was under the dining table.”

Oh, right, I must have dropped it after watching her explode as the toy pushed her past the point of all thought. Speaking of thought. “Where’s the toy?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. “There’s a huge variety of toys available for purchase to replace that one. Of course, I might feel the need to take out the price of anylosttoys on someone’s little ass.”

Red hair swayed as she tossed her head to look over at me. “No threats required, Sir. I never said I didn’t love my toy. It has been washed and dried. I’ll put this with it.” Picking the remote up where it had been on the counter, she stuck out her tongue then scurried past me when I made a lunge toward her.

“If you’ll wash out the cooler, I’ll grab the sheets for the next load. I didn’t want to leave the house messy when we head home.”

I loved the fact she was thinking of my apartment as home. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her house. It was charming, but it took over an hour to get here from the city. Then again, I was pretty sure that if she wanted to live on the moon, I’d pack up and board the spaceship at her side.

Humming, I opened the lid of the cooler and tilted it so all the water could drain out. Once that was done, I began to transfer the unopened bottles of water to a shelf in the refrigerator.

“Don’t forget to dry it out. Otherwise it gets all musty,” Fiona said as she passed through on her way to the laundry room again with an armload of sheets.

“Got it.” Grabbing a dishtowel, I reached in the cooler and pulled out a large plastic bag that had once contained ice before it all melted. It was dripping a bit so I ran the towel over it before wadding it into a ball and tossing it in the trash. I grabbed the second bag to repeat the process. That’s when I saw it. A folded slip of paper. It hadn’t been destroyed by ice or water because it had been stuck to the side of the bag with wide strips of transparent packing tape.

“Daddy?”

Fuck. Not here. Not in her house. How in the fuck had he known where she lived?

My head whipped up to glance at every window, every door within sight. It was only then that I saw Fiona. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen. The smile gone, the color of her face as white as the tile, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”

I so badly wanted to say nothing, but I wouldn’t lie to her. Instead, I reached for her, pulling her to me before laying the bag on the counter, tape side up.

“Is that… oh god, it is.” Her eyes darted to the cooler. “Ho-how did it get in there?” She tried to pull free, but I tightened my hold. “Let me go! He knows where I live! He knows where I am!”

“I know, baby, I know, but you’re safe…”

“How can you say that! He was here!” Her glance went to the backdoor. “He was at our party!”

“No–”

“No! Then how in the fuck did that get in the cooler?”

‘We bought the ice yesterday, remember? I just threw two bags into each cooler over the drinks to let them chill all night. I honestly can’t see how anyone at the party could or would have brought along a roll of packing tape and a towel and then just what? Casually strolled over, opened the cooler, dried the bag off and proceeded to carefully fold the fucking note, put it on thebag, and slap tape over it for waterproofing while we all chugged beer and dug kernels of roasted corn out of our fucking teeth!”

I’d seen the expression on Fiona’s face only once before in my life. I’d been driving through the mountains at dusk. I’d taken a curve and slammed on my brakes at the sight of a deer standing frozen in the middle of the road. Fiona’s eyes had the same expression as the doe’s had that night. As if just waiting to be plowed into and crushed.

Fuck! Way to go, shithead!

Leaving the bag where it lay, I bent and slid an arm behind her knees, picking her up and striding from the kitchen. I let her pound on my arms and my chest as I stopped in the threshold and scanned the dining and living rooms before moving to the front door and checking that it was locked. Ignoring her orders to put her down, I didn’t speak as I checked the rest of the house, including the hall closet, guest bath, the second bedroom she used as an office and the master suite.

Satisfied that we were alone, I returned to the living room and finally located my phone. Evidently, Fiona had removed it from my jeans and laid it on the buffet behind the dining table. Using my foot to hook around a chair leg, I yanked it out enough to be able to sit. As I did, I set Fiona on the table once more and when she tried to jump off, I said one word. “No!”

The volume was enough to break through her panic which is what I’d intended. The fact it also brought forth the tears shimmering in her eyes, was just another reason to find the son of a bitch who was terrifying her.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to sound like a dick. I didn’t mean to scare you. But, Fee, I honestly believe the note was already on the bag before the party. Someone at the store could have put it on when they loaded the bags into our cart. This is on me. I just missed the fucking thing when I threw the bags in the coolers.”

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