Page 79 of Enraged

He laughed, the noise startling poor Milkdud.

“I’ve been worried for more than thirty years. Ever since that doctor handed me that little pink blanket. Nothin’ was the same after that.”

You had already been a daddy five years at that point…

“You already had Cruise when I was born,” I pointed out. “It wasn’t like you were new at it.”

“Cruise is a boy, though. I knew he would be rough and tough. You were tiny and fragile. I was worried the world would eat you alive.”

Kinda offensive that you labeled me as weak from the jump, Pops.

When I didn’t respond, he continued. “I was wrong, though. You ate the world alive. You became hardheaded, determined, and brave. You grew into a force to be reckoned with… but at the end of the day, you’re my baby and I’m always gonna wanna fix anything that hurts you.”

The world doesn’t deserve my daddy.

I slid Milkdud’s head out of my lap and stood up. “You’re the best dad in the world and Cruise and I are lucky to have you.” I gave him a big hug.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Enough of all this. Grab that basket. Go get those eggs gathered and take ‘em to your mama.”

I smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I checked my texts while I walked to the chicken coop.

Two missed calls from Jace, a Facebook notification, and a text from Dakota.

I tapped the notification eagerly.

The plan was to go this weekend but with the chance of being around Cassie? No, thanks.

I typed a quick response and pressed send.

Before sliding my phone back in my pocket, I opened Cassie’s picture message again. Dak looked so peaceful, sleeping just the way he was sleeping next to me in the mountains.

Maybe it’s an old picture.

Dipping into my crazy reservoir, I remembered there was a way to check the metadata of a picture if you have an iPhone.

I saved the picture she sent me to my phone’s camera roll.

Let’s see if I can remember how to do this.

I tapped the information button in the center of the options at the bottom of the phone then scrolled down to the metadata. Sure enough, it told me what type of phone the picture was taken on, the picture settings that were used, the time the picture was taken, and of course, the date it was taken.

And it was taken last night after he left my house.

Anger unfurled in the pit of my stomach.

She is his fiancé and you’re being a fuckin’ nutjob about this.

I knew I was being unreasonable, but it didn’t stop my anger from intensifying with every step I took.

I guess she’s able to convince a man to do anything so long as she doesn’t have clothes on… the bad part is, the men are just as weak as she is.

Dakota

“Good work, y’all. Let’s get the truck back in service.”

Nothin’ like a good workin’ structure fire to get the blood punmpin’.

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