Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
She sucked in a breath and wiggled them slightly.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should take you to the doctor.”
“It’s not that bad, Daddy.” Last thing she wanted was to go to the doctors.
“No, I think we best get it checked. What if it’s broken? You can’t walk around with a broken toe.”
“I don’t like doctors.”
“Don’t blame you,” the Fox said. “A lot of them are jerks.”
Whew. He understood.
“Doesn’t mean they don’t have their uses. And they are useful when you are injured or sick.”
“But my toe is fine.”
“Let me have a look.” Brody moved away from where he’d been putting the takeout into the oven to stand next to the Fox. He gently took hold of her foot. “Wriggle your toes.”
She moved them back and forth.
“Any pain?”
“Nope.”
He prodded it. “It’s not swollen or painful, I think she’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” the Fox asked.
“Doctor Brody says yes.”
She clapped her hands. “I love playing doctors.”
“But you just said you don’t like doctors,” the Fox pointed out.
“Yes, but that’s far different from playing doctors, Daddy. Especially when I’m a good patient and get candy. Spoiler alert, I’m always a good patient.”
The Fox grunted. “No walking on your foot tonight. We’ll see how it is tomorrow.”
“How will I get around? Crawl?” That appealed to her. “I might need some knee pads.”
“I’ll carry you,” the Fox told her. “Now, you’re to stay here while I go get this mouse.”
“Oh no, the mouse! How do I keep forgetting about the mouse?” she cried.
“I don’t know,” Brody told her, moving around the counter to get plates and cutlery out.
The Fox walked to the freezer and drew out an ice pack.
“Can you bring me an ice cream, Daddy?”
“You haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Life’s too short, Daddy. Eat dessert first, I say. What if I choke on dinner and die, huh? Then I would have missed out on the good stuff.”
The Fox turned to glare at her. Uh-oh.
“What did you say?” he asked in a low voice, stalking toward her. He placed the ice pack gently on her foot, but that did nothing to reassure her. Because the look in his eyes . . . that was pure rage.
“Nothing. This is because of the mouse!”
“How does what you just said have anything to do with the mouse?”
She had no idea. It had just popped out. “Because it had my mind all messed up, worrying about it, and I . . . I . . . what exactly did I do wrong?”
The Fox put his hands on the counter on either side of her, his gaze intense. “You will not die.”
She blinked. “It was just words. I don’t plan on dying from eating dinner. Not unless Brody ordered the really spicy stuff again. Last time I thought I was going to die. I was grateful that I have two toilets.”
“Amen to that,” Brody muttered. “Not sure whether it burned worse going in or coming out.”
“Me either,” she said.
“It’s okay, I got mild this time,” he reassured her.
“Stop,” the Fox said firmly.
They both froze and turned to look at him.
“Neither of you will die, understand me? You will not speak of dying. It is not a joke to me. Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. There will be no ice cream for either of you.”
“What?” Brody asked. “What did I do?”
“You moved when I told you to stay.”
“No ice cream?” she asked. “What is this? Torture Tutu Day?”
“That’s your punishment for talking of dying. Do you have any mouse traps?”
“Um, I think there’s one in the garage. On the big shelves at the back. It just traps and releases.”
The Fox shook his head but he headed into the garage.
“Whoa. That was intense,” Brody said quietly.
“Right? And he wasn’t serious, right? I can still have ice cream.”
Brody gave her a sad look. “I don’t think so, Tutu.”
“But that’s so mean. I think I’d rather have a spanking.”
“I don’t think you should ever mention dying again.”
“No kidding. Next thing, he’ll try to take away my candy.”
“Or your energy drinks.”
“Nuh-uh, nobody stands between me and my energy drinks and lives to tell the tale.”
Brody reached over and squeezed her hand. “You okay, Tutu? Not moving too fast?”
She shook her head. “Not too fast. I . . . this feels right, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It really does.”
21
The Fox was muttering to himself as he searched through the garage, looking for a trap. What kind of assassin did catch and release? And for a mouse? It was unheard of! He’d get kicked out of the assassins’ guild. If such a thing existed.
He’d thought about creating one. But then he remembered that the majority of people annoyed him. And that after a while, he’d probably kill them all.
Which would leave him very busy doing all of their jobs as well as his.
He found the trap and walked back inside to find some food to use as bait. His Bunny and his Pup grew quiet as he moved past them. He was close to bending both of them over the island and spanking their bottoms until they cried for mercy. And then spanking them some more.