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)
“Brody-bear, whatcha doing?” she mumbled sleepily as he drew on his pants.
“Putting you to bed.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“It’s bedtime.”
“No.”
Brat.
“Daddy said you do have to.”
“Okay then.” He managed to get her onto her feet and she leaned into him. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. “You’re the bestest.”
“I think you’re the best as well,” he told her, setting her down on the bed and then pulling back the blankets. She flopped down on her front, still dressed in her clothes. Should he undo her bra? But he thought that might scare her. “Do you want to take your bra off?”
“Yeah, I gots it.” She squirmed around and somehow managed to get it off under her clothes. “You know what, Brody-bear?”
“What, Tutu?”
“You got a real tasty cock. I like it. Yum. Yum. Can I suck it again?”
He tucked her in and sat next to her. “Anytime you want. But how about you go to sleep now?”
“Okay, Brody-bear. Loves you.”
“Love you too.”
The Fox stepped into the security room of his den and pulled out his phone to listen to the message. He hadn’t wanted to listen to it until he was completely alone and secure. If this message was what he thought it was, then it could change everything.
“Fox,” said the man in a thick Russian accent. “This is Mr. X, my associates and I have a proposition for you. Call me back on this number.”
Finally, things were moving in the direction he wanted.
22
Brody let himself into Autumn’s house. It was Friday evening and he was looking forward to the weekend with his girl. He grabbed his hoverboard from the entrance and hopped on. The Fox had given it to him for Christmas. It had taken him a while to get the hang of it. He’d gotten a few bruises on his ass. But now he had the hang of it.
“Tutu? I’m here!” He frowned as the scent of bleach hit him.
Crap. Not a good day, then? Usually, when she cleaned it was because she was stressed or anxious. She hadn’t called him, though.
Disappointment filled him. He wished she knew that she could call or text him when she was having a bad day. She seemed to think that she had to do everything on her own.
“Tutu?”
He spotted a few empty cans of energy drinks in the recycling bin.
“Tutu?”
He found her in the bathroom, scrubbing at the already clean floor. He climbed off his hoverboard and set it aside, quickly turning it off.
“Tutu?”
She gasped and turned around, her foot slamming into the bucket of sudsy water and sending it flying.
“Oh no! Oh no, look what I did!”
“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no harm done.”
“I’m going to have to clean it all over again. I need to mop this up. I’ll go get the mop.”
“Sweetie, it’s all good,” he tried to soothe her.
She stood up, slipping in the puddle of water. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her, but then he went skidding as well. They both ended up on the floor on their butts.
“Ouch. Shoot.”
Tears filled Autumn’s eyes. “Now I’ve ruined your clothes!”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he told her firmly. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
“My butt hurts. I’m sorry.”
“Tutu, it’s not your fault. It was mine. I gave you a fright.”
“You’re home early,” she said as he carefully got to his feet, then held out a hand to her.
“It’s after six,” he pointed out softly.
“It is? Oh. I lost track of time.”
“Why don’t you go get changed? You’re all wet. Actually, why don’t you get into your pajamas? It’s early, but we could have a slumber party.”
She stared up at him in surprise before looking around the bathroom. “I’ve got to clean up.”
“I’ll clean this up.”
She shook her head.
“Autumn, go get in your PJs. Please?”
“Okay. I’ll go get in my PJs.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief. Before she could return and try to take over, he quickly grabbed the mop and some towels, cleaning up the mess and putting everything away.
Where was Autumn? She was suspiciously quiet.
He walked out into the living room to find her pulling apart the sofa. She had her pajamas on at least. Freddy Fox was poking out the pocket of her pajamas, looking over at him as if to say, ‘what the fuck is this woman doing?’
Couch cushions went flying.
That gave him an idea of how to distract her.
Another thought occurred to him.
This wasn’t an emergency. But the Fox hadn’t said it had to be an emergency to contact him. Just if they needed him.
And he thought that she might need him right now. To provide what Brody couldn’t. He shook his head as he saw the name he’d used for a contact name.
Brody: Autumn is cleaning. A lot.
Sir F: What happened?
Brody: Don’t know. I’m trying to calm her down. Are you free?
Sir F: Be there in twenty.