I wish they were just stupid. Stupid, I can take. Rude, insulting, even disgusting messages can be purged without a second thought. But the threats Brody’s been sending me are bone-chilling. Not least of all because I know he’s capable of following through.
“From your ex?” Silas asks, joining me on the bed. I nod. He folds his arms around me and strokes my back. “You’re safe now, baby girl. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
If only I could believe him.
Chapter Nine
Silas
“Careful,” I tell Norah. “Don’t stick yourself.”
She bats my hand away. “This isn’t my first time fishing, you know.”
I lean back and watch her bait the worm on the hook. It takes her a minute to secure the wriggler, but eventually she gets it. Honestly, I never doubted that she could do it on her own. I just like to be the one to show her how.
“Voila,” she says. “Told you I had this, Daddy.” Sometimes she calls me Daddy, sometimes Silas, depending on her mood. But in bed, I’m always Daddy, and she’s always sweetheart or baby girl.
“Forgive me for not wanting to see you impaled like that worm.” The boat rocks slightly as she casts her line into the sun-dappled pond. I’ve been in and out of the garage a hundred times looking for tools, but didn’t notice the motorboat hitched to the rafters until this afternoon.
It was Norah who suggested we take the boat out. I was glad to find the engine still had some juice. We hitched up the trailer, loaded up my truck and drove the half mile down the mountain to the pond. The scene was perfect from the moment we got here. Clear skies, and crystal waters. Birdsong and crisp mountain air.
I know I said I’d give the cabin back to Norah’s mom, once I figured out where the hell I was headed. But after a week in the great outdoors, I can’t imagine returning to civilization. More importantly, I can’t imagine going back to my empty apartment, back to the nine to five, back to life before Norah.
And from the way she’s smiling at me now, I have a hunch she feels the same way.
Ever since the day of the storm, I haven’t been able to keep my hands off her. If I can’t touch her, then I need to at least be able to see her, and if I can’t see her, I’m counting down the seconds till she’s in my arms.
Being inside her feels like coming alive and coming home. My topping style in the past has always been more heavy-handed. Before Norah, I never wanted to call a submissive my baby girl. She brings out the Daddy in me, the part that wants to cherish and look after her. But the Dom that wants to tie her up and eat her from behind while fingering her tight little asshole is always there, waiting for his chance to make her squirm and writhe. Just last night, I had her bouncing up and down on my dick while we played a rousing game of Simon Says. Halfway through the game, I realized I will never get enough of this girl.
But it’s not all about the sex. Norah’s relaxed out here, quick to laugh and quicker to smile. The fear has left her eyes, and she’s stopped jumping at every little bump in the night. She’s even quit looking over her shoulder when we go into town for supplies, because she knows what she’ll find if she does. She’ll find me, watching her back, always close enough to reach out and touch.
“I take it your dad taught you how to fish?” I ask her.
“He did. And I bet you’re going to tell me all about how much he hated it when he was younger.”
“That’s where you’re mistaken.” I cast my line into the shimmering pond. “Jack would’ve had to at least tried it to hate it. If he so much as looked at a fish before it was cleaned and filleted, he couldn’t eat it. He said their eyes were watching him.”
“Unbelievable. That bastard used to chase me around the yard with fish eyeballs.” She stares out at the water, lost in her memories. “Do you think he’s here with us?”
My body tenses. I don’t consider myself superstitious, and I haven’t given much thought to whether I believe in Heaven and if so, which one. But I suspect that if Jack were here somehow, he might not be so