My eye twitched at the high-pitched giggle that came from my daughter’s room. Quarantine wasn’t for the weak. Fuck no. Being stuck with my teenage daughters, the little cock blockers, was enough to make anyone start drinking. And since I already drank, it just made me want an even bigger supply of beer and tequila. On the plus side, Farrah was no longer whining about not being able to see her friends, or whatever boy she was crushing on this week. I’d made it damn clear she wasn’t dating until she was forty. Ridley didn’t seem to think I’d be able to enforce that, but I had enough guns that said otherwise, and I knew every brother in my club would back me up.
Farrah was sixteen. Six-fucking-teen, but she acted like she was twenty-one. I’d caught her the other night hiding behind the clubhouse with a beer. I didn’t know who had given it to her, or if she’d swiped it from somewhere, but I’d made sure that one drink had an impression. I’d not only made her drink every last drop, but I’d given her four more beers until she was falling down drunk.
Maybe my parenting skills were lacking, but when she was hugging the toilet the next morning, I knew it would make her think twice in the future if she contemplated about drinking.
If this shit storm didn’t end soon, I was going to lose my fucking mind. I loved my kids. But I didn’t necessarily like Farrah some days. Smart-mouthed. Stubborn. And evil genius at times. Hell, she was just like her momma, but all the qualities I found amusing in Ridley just made Farrah a damn pain in my ass.
I slammed her door open, glaring as she twirled her hair around her finger and giggled again, the phone to her ear. She hadn’t even looked my way. “Farrah, for fuck’s sake, get off the damn phone and stop braying like a god damn donkey. No one thinks that shit is cute.”
She squealed and fell off the bed. Her phone bounced across the floor and I picked it up, glowering when I saw the name on the screen. Hunter. Sure, there were plenty of guys by that name, but there was one in particular my daughter knew. One who just might end up buried in a few shallow graves if he even thought of putting the moves on my little girl.
I put the phone to my ear.
“Hello? Farrah? What happened? You okay?” Hunter asked.
“If you ever want to patch the fuck into this club, I’d suggest you remember my daughter is sixteen years old, and I know plenty of ways to dispose of your body,” I said.
I heard him audibly gulp. “S-sorry, VP.”
The line went dead and I stared at Farrah. She was still sprawled on the floor, but now a mutinous glare was cast my way. Yeah, I was going to pay for that. No doubt the little shit would find a way to get even. Wouldn’t be the first time, and I doubted it would be the last. Just meant I’d have to find a creative punishment when she decided to strike.
“You so damn bored you have to flirt with a Prospect who’s three years older than you?” I asked.
“He’s cute. And funny.”
“He’s fucking horny is what he is, Farrah. Balls deep in anyone willing to bend over. Not just no, but fuck no will have you anything to do with him. If I have to boot his ass from the Dixie Reapers, so be it.”
She bolted upright. “No, daddy! Don’t. I promise, I won’t flirt with him anymore.”
“You want something to do while you’re stuck inside the compound? I’m sure your momma can think of plenty.” I scanned her room. It looked like her hamper had erupted all over the place. “Like your laundry for starters.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t sass me, which was both a relief and a concern. It meant she would be plotting something to do later. A way to get back at me. As much as I wanted to keep her close, keep her safe, and make sure no little punk ass dicks tried to touch her, part of me hoped she’d go to college somewhere that wasn’t here. Then I’d have three more years with Mariah before I could finally walk around my house naked if I chose to do so, and not worry about scarring my kids for life.
Speaking of Mariah… I listened intently and didn’t hear a damn thing. “Where’s your sister?”
Farrah’s eyebrows shot upward. “She’s over at Torch’s. Didn’t she tell you? She skipped out of here an hour ago saying she was going to hang with Lyssa.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was damn impossible to keep my kids inside the fucking house twenty-four-seven. I’d just have to be thankful they were inside the compound. Only ones we’d been sending out for shit were the prospects, and then anything bought and carried in was sanitized before going into our homes. Still … Mariah knew better than to leave without saying anything.
“And your momma?” I asked.
Farrah grinned. “At the pavilion.”
I looked at the time on her phone before tossing it back to her. Shit. I knew exactly why my wife was over there, and I also fucking knew most of the other Reaper ladies would be there too. I yanked my phone from my pocket and called Tank.
“What the fuck do you want?” he asked. “And please tell me it will get me out this house. Swear to Christ, between Emmie asking me to sample a million recipes and my daughters acting like caged monkeys, I’m losing my god damn mind.”
“Pavilion. Ridley went there. I’m betting the other women did too.”
I hung up and put the phone back in my pocket, made sure Farrah knew to keep her ass in the house, then went to get my woman. I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find her, Darian, Isabella, and Laken all staring with rapt fascination as Lief and Austin did their fitness challenge. Every fucking week like clockwork those two went head to head, and once my wife had discovered them doing push-ups – shirtless – she’d made it a point to go watch, along with the others.
“Hey, Ridley I think you’ve got a little something right here,” I said, swiping at her chin.
She smacked my hand but grinned up at me. “You could do this at home and entertain me. Then I wouldn’t have to leave the house.”
I leaned in closer, putting my lips near her ear. “If you want me to entertain you, all you have to do is make those hellions of ours go to sleep. I’ll be happy to strip down for you.”
Tank ambled over. “Did every last fucking one of you forget you’re claimed?”
Darian waggled her fingers at him in a wave. “Nope. Just admiring the scenery. I mean, if they’re going to do this practically naked, they should expect an audience.”
“Home! Now!” I heard Ryker bellow from behind me. I snickered as Laken gave him a guilty look, then hurried over to her man. He wasn’t an official Reaper, even though the offer was on the table. But there was no fucking way any of us were making Flicker’s sister move out of the compound unless she wanted to.
“Come on, Ridley. You can have a talk with our girl,” I said, tugging on her hand and leading her away.
“What did Farrah do now?”
“Caught her talking to Hunter on the phone. Or more accurately, she was flirting with a damn Prospect who’s too fucking old her for her.”
Ridley rolled her eyes and stomped off. I knew she’d get our girl back in line. At least for the rest of today. Tomorrow was another matter.
Tank came closer, looking pained as he rubbed his stomach.
“You okay there?” I asked.
He groaned. “If Emmie doesn’t stop feeding me, I’ll need a gym membership when quarantine ends. And a new wardrobe. The woman is trying to make me fat.”
“Could be worse.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
“I’ll take all Emmie’s cooking. You take Farrah for the rest of quarantine.”
Tank lifted his hands and backed up. “Uh-uh. Nope. No fucking way is your psycho daughter coming to my house. You’re on your own, VP.”
If I ever found out who brought the damn virus to our town, I’d dress them out like a fucking deer. Or better yet, lock them in a small room with Farrah for a few days.
“Fuck my life,” I muttered as I made my way back home.
© 2020, Harley Wylde