Dirty Daddies

Eddie is a stupid cunt, I see his challenged brain slowly turning as he registers the implication.

“You’re staying with these guys?”

She slaps his arm as she cackles. “Yeah, they’re my new fucking foster daddies. Daddy Jack and Daddy Michael.”

I reach a new personal low when my cock twitches.

A really low fucking personal low.

Daddy Jack and daddy fucking Michael. The gleam in her eyes tells me she’s not entirely joking either.

There are no words for the clusterfuck she’s bringing into our once quiet country life.

“You’re coming with us,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “I’m fucking not, Daddy Jack. Go fuck yourself.”

I grit my teeth and take a step forward, shunting Eddie out of the way as Mike takes hold of her arm. “You’re coming with us,” I repeat. “Right fucking now.”

“She’s my girl tonight,” Eddie protests, and this time it’s Mike that loses his fucking cool.

“You’re done here,” he says to the kid. “Take your drink and get back inside that fucking pub, before I tell the police you’re dealing again.”

“You fucking wouldn’t…” Eddie says, and if I wasn’t so pissed that Carrie was trashed on tequila in his company, I’d be amused at how Michael’s changing in front of my eyes.

Once upon a time he’d have defended Eddie to the ends of the earth, just as he defends all those kids whose paperwork lands on his desk.

But not anymore.

Not now Carrie Wells is involved.

“Get back inside,” Mike repeats and Eddie does.

He stubs out his cigarette and shrugs his shoulders at Carrie, and then he’s gone.

Good fucking riddance.

Carrie struggles in my grip.

“Get the fuck off me,” she screeches. “You’ve no fucking right to order me about!”

But I don’t. I don’t get off her and I don’t pander to her kicking and screaming either. I take one elbow, and Mike must have finally heeded my bastard advice about discipline, because he takes the other and together we drag her back to my car and bundle her into the backseat, be damned who sees the spectacle.

She tries to climb back out no sooner as I’ve shut her in, but I raise a finger and my voice with it.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” I tell her, and she backs away.

I climb into the driver’s seat and check out her expression in the rearview mirror. She’s scowling, her arms folded across her chest as her foot taps furiously.

Difficult. Little. Bitch.

It’s about time this little cow learned some manners.

And I’m about to fucking teach her.Chapter FifteenCarrieI can’t believe those two assholes were in the pub having a drink without me. I can’t believe they manhandled me into the back of the car like I’m a naughty fucking kid.

“Eddie Stevens is a stupid little shit,” Jack barks from the front. “And you’ll be staying away from him. He deals fucking coke.”

“Oh, I will, will I?” I snap. “Says fucking who?”

It’s Michael who turns to look at me through the gap in the seats. “Says fucking me, Carrie. And Jack. We both fucking say it, so shut your fucking mouth and be thankful we were there before you ended up more shitfaced than you are already.”

I stare in shock at the man who’s always been so kind to me, not recognising the angry guy who glares at me as I shut my mouth and settle down with a sneer.

The tequila has gone to my head. I downed way too many before stumbling out into the cold to have a cigarette, courtesy of Eddie and his plan to get his dick inside me. Any more and I’d be on my ass right now, most likely with Eddie’s slimy tongue down my throat.

I can’t keep my mouth closed for long, it’s not in my nature. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, both of you. You can’t fucking tell me what to do.”

And then Jack says it, he actually says it.

“While you’re under my fucking roof, you’ll do as you’re fucking told. Any more backchat and I’ll put you over my fucking knee and slap some fucking manners into you.”

Fuck, how a thrill zips through me. Fuck, how the tequila makes me want to slip my hand down my knickers and touch myself at the thought of Jack tearing my jeans down and spanking my bare ass.

I should be pissed at the humiliation of being dragged away from the pub in front of everyone – so many nosey gawping faces staring through the windows at the commotion.

I should be bailing out of this car and telling those sonsofbitches to get fucked, that I’m not doing what either of them tell me, because I don’t have to. I’m a woman now, a woman with her own fucking mind.

And her own fucking needs that neither of these two assholes are willing to fulfil.

Even though I’m drunk, I see the look pass between them. It’s one I can’t read, and that’s not something I’m used to. They’re conspiring without words, and it makes me uneasy, nervous…