Being Their Baby (18 page)

He got no response at all this time. He stood until he realized there wouldn’t be any more words from her, whereby he frowned and quietly closed the door, as if she’d already fallen asleep and he didn’t want to wake her.

He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and then walked back toward his room where it had gone so horribly wrong, so quickly.

Chapter Eight

Fuck, it was cold outside. Sophie hated Massachusetts, she decided, and wondered if she should just start over somewhere warm. Somewhere where it was much rarer to get two inches of snow within two hours, snow she had to trudge through in the dark.

The worst part was learning that the bus station she’d been freezing her ass of at for an hour that morning wasn’t in service and that snow routes were being used. She’d stopped crying, though. Besides, it wasn’t as if Charlie had taken her cherry or anything. He just spooged over her, wiped her off, and then told her to get the hell back up to her room and that he regretted the whole thing.

The most embarrassing part of that was that she hadn’t regretted it… until
he
regretted it. She’d rarely seen a man, on TV or otherwise, who had regretted a sexual act as quickly as Charlie had just done. Why that was, she couldn’t fathom. She thought it was quite clear that by calling Charlie “Daddy” she was open to having sex with him; she thought that’s what it was all about.

Although maybe she was wrong. Maybe their relationship had nothing to do with sex and that she had merely misinterpreted this whole thing. Maybe all he wanted to do was call her “baby girl” and threaten her with spankings.

She heard the rare car come up behind her and turned to trudge backwards, holding her thumb out. Instead of slowing down, however, the asshole passed right on by and sprayed wet, dirty sludge all over her.

This was not the first time that’d happened that morning. Despite the sprinkling of white snow on her coat, from her shoulders on down she was drenched in the icy, wet mud that had sprayed up from the ground from people’s tires as they whipped right by her.

She pursed her lips, wiped herself off with her mittens, and then continued on.
I hate Massachusetts
, she grumbled to herself.
Hate it, hate it, hate it
.

She watched a car drive by on the other side of the road, going the opposite direction, although the snow was falling more than was convenient for seeing cars, just like it was for walking through snow.

She heard snow crunching and a car pulled up next to her. It was an ugly, old Jeep with its blue paint peeling off. It still had power windows, though, because the driver was lowering them. She was hoping it was someone to ask if she needed a ride, so she looked on hopefully.

Instead, she saw Josh. “You are in so much trouble,” he told her, his voice low like his brother’s. He looked exhausted with dark bruises underneath his eyes. “Are you having
fun
walking through the snow, at least?” he asked mordantly.

She heaved a sigh and looked forward, trying her darndest to ignore him.

“Get in the car,” he ordered with exasperation, stopping in the middle of the road.

“No. I’m not going home. I’m going this way.” She pointed forward. “And you and your entire family can go to hell,” she added, pointing straight down.

“Stop throwing a tantrum and get into the goddamned car,” he commanded, indicating the seat next to him. “You’re turning
blue
.”

“No.” Another car pulled up and started honking his horn behind Josh’s car, which, because of the way the snow had piled up in the other lane, was taking up all the road space as he was only going as fast as she was walking. She looked back, then at Josh. “You’re blocking traffic,” she said, gesturing to the car behind them.

“Yep. Seems that way. You should get in so we can get going,” he replied.

“No,” she replied, more firmly this time. “I’m leaving. I have the right to leave.”

“You’re not leaving. You’re sneaking out. People just don’t
leave
at all hours of the morning before anyone wakes up. It’s dick, actually. Real dick—like breaking up with someone via answering machine kind of dick.”

There was more honking behind them, and then more, as a third car joined the fray.

“Get in the car,” he told her above the honking.

“Get bent,” she replied.

Josh stopped the car completely, got out, signaled to the car behind him he’d only be a minute, then jogged out to Sophie, who tried to pivot her feet and jog away from him, but fell into a snow bank that went up to her thigh, and he caught her. He grabbed the back of her jacket, pulled her out of the snow bank, then grabbed her ear and dragged her to the car.

“Oh! Fuck! That hurts, Josh! Stop, stop, stop! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! You can’t—ouch!—do this in cold weather!” she complained loudly. “You’re gonna rip it off!”

“It’s Massachusetts, not the North Pole,” he gritted in reply, opened the side door, picking her up, and nearly tossing her in the front seat before closing the door and walking to his side. He gave the people behind him a thumbs-up before he got in his side and sped off before she was able to right herself and get out of the car.

Suddenly, he locked her door and put the child-safety lock on so she couldn’t unlock it herself. “No tuck-and-rolls,” he firmly decreed, turning the car around so that they were finally heading in the right direction. He looked over and sighed. “I’m going to have to get these seats
shampooed
. How’d you get so dirty?”

She turned and glared at him.

“Glare at me all you want. I wouldn’t be in your shoes for all the Dr. Pepper in Texas. I don’t know what you were thinking, but tantrums are better if you hit the ground and just start screaming and kicking your feet, not trekking five miles in the snow.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum!” she snapped, then crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know everything. I talked to Charlie an hour and a half this morning while I was waiting for my third delivery in a row to just
push,
for God’s sake, so that I could go home.
Sloths
move faster than that woman’s birth canal…” It was then that she realized he was still wearing his blue scrubs under his leather jacket. “Because Charlie’s way too cheap to pay a shrink, he told
me
all about your day yesterday, up through the—well, the white-wash incident, as it were.”

She blushed, brought her knees up to her chest, and tucked them under her chin.

“Ah man, your shoes are so—” Josh complained, pointing to the chunks of mud and snow on her feet and legs. “Never mind,” he sighed, resigned. “Anyway, Charlie felt like he took advantage of you. You came in there just needing a giant, breathing teddy bear, and instead he was more like a grizzly with the amount of pawing and growling and general mauling that took place. You’re from a shitty existence full of shitty people and Charlie’s trying to show you that you can actually depend on him not to be someone who’s going to bend you over the bed whenever you’re vulnerable. He wants to provide you with a steady rock—not just a steady
cock
. He wants to get you nice and comfortable and loved and well-cared for, and then start the really kinky stuff when and if you’re ready. Not the other way around.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” she grumbled. Hard to imagine life getting any kinkier. She still had egg-shaped bruises on her ass from the oval-backed hairbrush Liz had gone to town on her with.

He shrugged, then froze and reached into his pocket for his cellphone as if it was suddenly on fire. He pressed a button and put it to his ear, holding it with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said into the receiver, “did you find her yet?” He turned his head to her and winked. “…No? Hey calm down, I’m sure we’ll find her… What do you think happened to her? Think she might be dead or something? Are there
bears
in Massachusetts? …Well, we still have murdering psychopaths, though, right? Think one of those have her by now?” With mischief in his tone, he added, “It’s a snow day, but they might be out.”

He was grinning now, at nothing in particular, but he did turn in her direction as if to show it off. “Yeah,” he told the other line, “I have her.” He listened and then responded, apparently to a
‘how?’
question. “‘
The force
’ led me right to her. You didn’t know I had mad Jedi skills, did ya? … Sure.” He passed her the phone. “It’s the great-and-powerful Lizard of Oz,” he told her. “She wants to talk to you.”

Sure.
Now
Liz wanted to talk to her.
She turned off the phone and passed it back to him.

He looked very confused. “Did… Did you click the wrong button?” he stammered, aghast.

“No,” she replied dully, and looked back out the window.

“Okay.” He straightened, casting a worried glance at the phone in his hand before he pocketed it again. “All right, so you’re in sorry-for-yourself mode. I get that. You’re gonna feel even sorrier for yourself once Liz and Charlie get their hands on you.”

She rolled her eyes lazily toward him. “As soon as you let me out of the car,” she assured, “I’ll be walking in that direction.” She pointed behind them, then rested her chin back on her knees.

“No, you won’t. You’re too smart for that… At least you’re
normally
smarter than this,” he added. “Are you PMSing or something?”

“No,” she denied firmly. “I just have the sense to see when I’m not wanted.”

“I don’t think you can see
anything
with your head that far up your ass,” he muttered. “Why would you think you’re not wanted? We tell you that we love you and that you matter
over and over and over. That alone is more than your
actual
family ever did for you, so why you’re going back to Southie makes no sense at all to me. You can’t just go back there with your tail between your legs. They’d hammer you and take and take and take until you had nothing left to give. We, on the other hand, aren’t perfect; is age-play a lot to swallow? I don’t doubt it is. Spankings aren’t any fun—not for
you
, anyway, but say you never get used to it and you stay miserable and you stick it out for a year or so. You’d look around with connections, an education, a full stomach, money, and a bright future ahead of you, at least.

“Is what you
had
so much better than what you
have
? We have a weird way of showing it, but we love you, Sophie.” He looked straight through the falling snow ahead and added, “That’s saying a lot, too, because the only other girl I’ve said I loved—besides my sister and my mother and my aunt, that sort of thing—is Liz. Liz, and you.”

“You’ve known me for two weeks,” she replied stuffily. She highly doubted everything he said. She figured he was just trying to make her feel better with empty sentiments.

“There’s something about you that brings it out of us, but there it is. I’ve never said that about Charlie and Liz’s girls. I
certainly
have never said it to any of the girls
I’ve
brought home. So, there you have it. You may not want it, but you’ve got it, babe. And
my
love’s like superglue; that’s why I’ve been tailing Liz my whole life. Now, my love’s not exactly like mountain snow, admittedly. I’m not going to say that your virginity isn’t something I have taking up the number-one spot on my Christmas list, but my love’s final, however perverted.”

She frowned and considered this for a moment, then looked over at Josh. He was handsome; extremely so. He was the type of guy she used to ignore because she felt so snubbed by them. He was successful, intelligent, rich, athletic, and cared about his appearance enough to go get highlights in his longish hair that came to his eyebrows in the front. He had style, and even if he didn’t, he’d still probably be gorgeous; especially with eyes that were so blue, they were mesmerizing.

If it was true, and he actually liked her, was even attracted to her… Loved her? Well, she couldn’t believe that, but even if that was a smallest percentage of a fraction true, then she knew she should be considering herself extremely lucky.

They were close to the house now, which sucked because she had just decided that she wouldn’t leave, after all, and was very loath to the concept of facing a storm of lecturing.

She put her shoes back on the floor and took a deep breath. “All right,” she said. “I’ll stay. But can you get me out of hot water with Liz and Charlie?”

He didn’t seem surprised, as if he knew she’d come to that decision all along. “It’s my opinion,” Josh replied, lifting his chin slightly, “that women think better on a sore bottom, little lady.”

“My butt’s plenty sore already!” she protested.

“Not sore enough, from looking at the evidence. Your lack of soreness has led my car needing interior shampooing.”

She looked around at the Jeep. It was old, sun-worn, with the seats patched a few times over with fabric that never could match the original. “Can’t be too bad. No offense, but your car’s sort of a piece of shit.”

“Shh!” he snapped, then rubbed the dashboard and cooed to it lovingly, “She didn’t mean it, baby. Don’t listen to her.” She rolled her eyes at his protectiveness over a hunk of junk before he added, still cooing to the car, “She’s just upset that I’m about to hand her over for a good blistering.”

The painfulness of her spanking only yesterday rushed back to her and Sophie held onto the car door tightly. “Uncle Josh, c’mon! You don’t really think they’re gonna spank me again, right? Especially since only yesterday—”

“Honey,” he said, shaking his head, “in my day, I’ve seen five discipline spankings in one day.
Five
.” He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers around. “Besides, the only reason I’m not taking you over my own knee this morning, my little mud-bunny,” he gestured to her road-slushed clothing again, “is because I know
they
will, and they should. They’re not as tired as I am.”

She couldn’t even imagine Josh spanking her. Josh was too… Josh-ish. He was relaxed, funny, watched too much television, and ate too much junk food to be a disciplinarian. There was a reason why the ‘Uncle Josh’ title seemed so easy to say.