Healing (General's Daughter Book 5) Page 19

They all turned to the sound of the front door opening and Jen yelling for the pack mules. Obediently, the boys went to help her.

  Cherell walked in, completely transformed.

  “Oh my god, you’re gorgeous!” Sam said.

  “What did you do?” Cecily asked, staring.

  Cherell blushed. “Jen took me to this salon. They trimmed and highlighted my hair, we got contact lenses, did my nails and stuff. Then she took me shopping. I hate shopping.”

  Jen mouthed “me too” as she plopped in a chair, holding Michael’s hand.

  “Let us see you. Ravishing,” Scott announced, twirling her in front of him. She was in a sage sundress with a low belt, slender heels and some sparse jewelry.

  “I feel like a different person. Thank you so much.”

  “We’re happy to do it. I hope you got some more things and that this isn’t all Jen’s?” Dr. Quimby teased.

  Jen huffed. “You guys treated me to a mani-pedi and a new pair of sandals.”

  “Oooh, lemme see,” Sam said, ignoring the eye rolling of her family. The other girls laughed. Sam tried on Jen’s shoes, holding her leg up for all to see. “How cute! You’ll let me borrow them?”

  “My closet is your closet, little sister,” Jen said, hugging her friend, “Except, they also bought you these.”

  Sam squealed, accepting a pair of low-heeled sandals in bronze and turquoise. She put them on, kicking her feet. “Thank you! Oooh, you went to the GOOD shoe store. These are Italian.”

  “Scott and Joe said no limit.” Jen giggled, seeing the two men grimace.

  “How many shoes can one woman wear? Oh good, pizza’s here,” Rich said, going to the door.

  “Ladies, let’s eat first then you can explore Cherell’s packages. Ladies?” Dr. Quimby called over their giggling.

  “Great, a house full of cackling hens. That’s all I need,” Scott grumbled, sitting in his recliner with his pizza and the remote.

  “Eat at the table like a human being,” Dr. Quimby ordered, hands on his hips.

  Scott turned to look at him. “I don’t wanna.”

  Michael and Rich glanced at each other, seeing the signs. “Girls, clear out!” they hollered, moving the furniture as Scott put his pizza down and started to take off his shirt. The three Riley girls looked confused as they were hustled out to the edges of the living room.

  “And there they go.” Sam sighed, shaking her head.

  Monique looked scared. “Why are they fighting?”

  “They aren’t fighting. They are playing at being wrestlers. This happens when the house is dominated by men. And I use the term ‘men’ loosely. They are overgrown little boys,” Jen added.

  “There go the other two. Testosterone,” Sam groaned as the boys joined in.

  “Good thing your living room is so huge,” Cecily commented, watching in awe as the four wrestled and brought each other down.

  “Sammi, you need to break this up.” Jen grinned.

  Sam cracked her knuckles. “Hmm, whom should I start with?”

  “Get Mike. He didn’t kiss me today.”

  “How are you—” Cherell started to ask, watching as her tiny cousin dove into the tangle of arms, legs and large male torsos.

  “Hey! Who’s biting?” Michael yelled, letting go of his father to grab his leg.

  “Sam!” the other three yelled, unable to grab her as she ducked from one to the other.

  “Got her!” Rich announced, scooping the girl into his arms.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” she retorted, twisting away.

  “The brat has body oil on!” Rich growled. “It’s like grabbing a greased pig.”

  “Hey! Who are you calling a pig?” Sam snarled, sinking her teeth into his side and slipping away before he could get her.

  “I’ll get her,” Dr. Quimby said, throwing himself over her back as she dove between Scott’s legs.

  “OW! No pinching!” Scott yelled, grabbing his calf. By now, the other four girls were laughing hysterically. Dr. Quimby wrapped his arms around the girl, holding her close to his body. Michael elbowed Rich, pointing to his sister’s right foot. It was her new move. She shoved her heel between her father’s legs and twisted to go underneath him as he fell forward. She pounced on his back, holding him tightly in a leg lock.

  “OW!” she yelled as he bit her thigh. Growling, she crouched to jump him again, but was grabbed by the shorts by her uncle.

  “Time out, you little cheater. Look what you did to me.” He pointed to the bite marks.

  She gave him a cheesy smile. “Didn’t you tell me I needed to learn to fight like a girl?” she asked. “I’m hungry, can we please eat now?”

  “You’ll pay for my bite, my little love,” Rich said, his eyes twinkling as he snatched her from her uncle and hugged her.

  ***

  Jen came home early from class that next Tuesday to find Cecily on the deck with a glass of wine in her hand. Frowning, she approached the girl. “Cecily? What are you doing?”

  “Relaxing. Want some?”

  “No, thank you. I’m not supposed to be drinking. Did Joe say it was okay?”

  “I don’t answer to him,” the girl snubbed.

  Jen bit her lip. “Where’re Cherell and Monique?”

  “On the beach picking up shells. Why are you so uptight?”

  “This family is a lot different than yours. They’re serious about rules and respect. This,” she pointed to the wine, “breaks both. Please put it away before you get in trouble.”

  “Yeah, like what? I’m an adult and the worse they can do is make me stay in that wonderful smelling room,” Cecily cackled. That was when Jen noticed the girl was wearing one of Rich’s tee shirts.

  “Did Rich say you could borrow that?”

  “You are such a busybody. Go do your homework or something.”

  Jen silently removed herself and picked up her cell phone. She texted Sam.

  Prob here. Cc drnkn

  Wth?

  Wine. Wearing R shirt 2

  WTF!!!

  Help?

  Tell Daddy

  No way!

  Shit. Gotta go ttyl

  Sam made a face, re-reading the texts. Her father would be furious if he found out. And wearing Rich’s clothes? “MIKE!”

  “What’s wrong, little sister?” He appeared in her doorway instantly.

  She handed him her phone. “Read.” She watched his jaw twitch with a frown.

  “Damn. We can’t snitch, kiddo. You know the rules. She’s really not in danger either.”

  “I know, but it’s putting Jen into a bad position. I have an idea, though. Is Splasher around?”

  “He was in the tank a while ago. Oh, I get it; he might be able to send something to Dad. Good idea.” Michael grinned, going with his sister into the tank room.

  They spoke aloud of the problem in front of the little dolphin, the neuroband Michael wore increased the measure of concern. Ton swam in, picking up their concern. He imaged a penguin in a net needing the dragon bull. Sam confirmed, but shared that she had boundaries she couldn’t cross because she was a calf. Ton snorted and took off, followed by Splasher.

  “Well, that’s done. A little deceptive, but it should work.” Michael smiled, helping the girl to her feet. He hugged her. “I’m so happy you’ve been good lately.”

  “It’s killing me. I did get it the other day when I pushed Cecily down, though,” she admitted.

  Michael patted her shoulder. “I’m sure it was worth it,” he commented, seeing her nod with a smile.

  Dr. Quimby rubbed his temple, unable to shake the image of his home and a net. He finally picked up the phone. “Sammi? Question. I keep getting pictures thrown into my head. Is that normal?”

  “If the pod is trying to communicate with you, yes. What are they showing you?”

  “Our house and it’s covered by a net. There are, and don’t laugh, freakin’ penguins on the deck!”

  “You need to get home, Daddy. Check on the girls
and make sure they’re okay,” Sam said seriously. “A net means there is trouble. Penguins are symbols of stupidity or foolishness.”

  “Damn it. I’m on my way.” He ended the call and then called to his assistant. “Greg? I need to run home. Reschedule any visits for me, okay?”

  “You’re clear this afternoon, sir. Let me know if you need anything, please.”

  “Shall do. See you tomorrow. You can close up early if you like.”

  Greg smiled gratefully, still standing. He knew that look on his commander’s face; someone was in trouble. Again. But whom? Sam was at work, so it wasn’t her.

  Dr. Quimby briefly let Scott know his whereabouts as he drove up the I-5 to La Jolla. Walking into the house, he immediately saw Cecily on the deck, sipping her wine and smoking a cigarette. Jen met him at the door, noticing his neck vein pulsing.

  “Did Sam tell you?”

  “No, the pod did. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “No snitching policy, remember? What are you going to do?” Jen asked. Dr. Quimby removed his cammie jacket and hung it on the hook.

  “I’m going to have a very serious talk with that young lady. Where are the others?”

  “On the beach.”

  “Make sure they stay there for a while. Excuse me. Cecily Jeanne Riley!” his voice bellowed as he stormed through the French doors.

  She jumped, startled. “Huh? Oh, hi Joe. What are you doing home so early?” She regained her composure. In one sweep, the cigarette was out of her hand and glass taken from the table. Her eyes went wide.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted.

  “Me? I’m an adult. You can’t stop me from smoking if I want.”

  “In my home I certainly can. And you aren’t old enough to drink. Did you finish all this?” he demanded, holding up a bottle that was 2/3 empty.

  “You have good taste in wine. It was very pleasant,” she commented, unbothered. Dr. Quimby stood before her, hands on his hips. His muscles bulged from his green tee shirt. Despite his anger, Cecily noticed how incredibly handsome he was. Too bad he was so old…

  “…. Do you understand?”

  “Huh? I wasn’t listening, sorry,” Cecily answered nonchalantly. Growling, the man grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “What do you think you are doing?”

  “You are coming with me! NOW!” he ordered, dragging her easily into the house and up the stairs. She was tall, but had no strength against his. He pushed her into Rich’s room and closed the door behind them. “Sit!” he demanded, finger pointing in her face.

  She frowned, anger rising in her, as she sat. “Don’t you talk to me like that!”

  “I’m about to do more than talk, young lady. We have been nothing but supportive and respectful to you. Are you that hungry for attention that you need to be such a little bitch?”

  “How dare you!” Cecily hissed.

  Dr. Quimby crossed his arms, calming himself. “You have exactly one minute to explain yourself.”

  “Or what?”

  He leaned forward, hand on either side of her and he stared into her face. She pulled back fearfully. “Do you really want to go there?”

  Inhaling, the girl summed up her courage and pulled forward, almost touching his nose. “Fuck you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Cecily shrieked as she suddenly found herself face down across his lap, his large hand smacking sharply and without mercy over her round bottom. She kicked, screamed, swore and tried to escape. The spanking continued, long and hard, the hot swipes undeterred by her shorts. They rode high enough to expose the under-curves of her cheeks and Dr. Quimby made certain that he focused on the exposed sit spots, turning them deep scarlet and very hot. He did not relent until she was finally sobbing and limp with exhaustion, and offering profuse apologies for her behavior. He held her in place, hand on her bottom, his legs hard and solid under her. Embarrassment flooded through her.

  “If this happens again, I promise you that it will be to your bare bottom. I will not tolerate disrespect in my home. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Joe,” she wept.

  He lifted her to sit next to him on the bed and put his arms around her gently. “I don’t like to have to discipline you, but I will if it helps you understand that we care enough to not ignore destructive behavior.”

  Cecily just cried, partially from the pain in her burning backside, partially from humiliation and mostly from disbelief. He was holding her like he really cared. No one had ever done that. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

  He kissed the top of her head, hugging her. “You’re forgiven. Get yourself cleaned up and then go to the deck and clean up every trace of cigarettes. No more drinking either. Understood?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s yes and no, sir for now on,” he said softly.

  Cecily sighed. “Yes, sir. Joe? Did Jennifer tell on me?”

  “Actually no. She wouldn’t break our no snitching policy. I told you I have house cameras for security reasons. They alert me to unusual activities,” he lied, knowing that she wouldn’t believe the story about the pod’s involvement. He barely believed it himself.

  Sam and Scott walked into the house, simultaneously stripping off their cammie jackets and dumping them on the foyer floor. Dr. Quimby pointed to the clothing with a frown. “Hang them up. You know better.”

  Scott shot him a bird, but picked up the jacket, handing it to Sam. She looked cranky.

  “Have a bad day?” her father asked, hugging her close.

  She nodded, leaning against him. “I need loves.”

  Without another word, the man picked her up and carried her to the couch, cuddling her closely. Cecily watched with jealousy from the deck, her bottom still aching painfully. It wasn’t fair, she thought, she has everything. How dare that man humiliate her like this? I bet the perfect Samantha never has to deal with being treated like a juvenile. Cecily continued to fume silently as she swept up the ashes from her cigarettes.

  Sam closed her eyes, the bridge of her nose nestled under her father’s strong chin. He needed a shave, but she didn’t care. She felt safe and loved.

  “Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. “Nothing to talk about, just a hard day. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Why not?”

  “I miss Michael and Rich in the house. It’s lonely without them.”

  “You miss your playmates, huh? Well, maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you spend the night with them tomorrow.”

  “On a school night?” she grinned, looking up at him, “What gives?”

  “I think I should spend some time with these kids. They’re a hurting bunch.”

  “I’m choosing to keep my mouth shut on my comments, Daddy. The only one I feel for is Monique.”

  “They all hurt. Cecily especially.”

  “Was everyone okay when you got home?”

  “No. She was drinking and smoking on the deck. Then said ‘fuck you’ to me.”

  “No way! What did you do?”

  “You know damn well what I did. I feel sorry for her. She didn’t even know how to accept a genuine hug. Please, try to be more generous towards her. She’s incredibly jealous of you.”

  “That’s her problem, not mine. Do we have to discuss her while I’m getting my Daddy time? It’s making me nauseous,” Sam grumbled.

  He squeezed her lovingly, kissing the top of her head. “Not another word. There’s my girl,” he cooed, rocking her sweetly. Jealousy at its peak, Cecily snarled and stomped down the sea stairs to the beach, hating life and everyone in it.

  Scott noticed her absence as he emerged from his room, dressed in shorts. “Where did Cecily go?” he asked.

  “Probably down to the beach. She’s upset with me right now,” Dr. Quimby said, his long arms gathering Sam in a little ball on his lap as he felt her stiffen.

  “Please tell me you finally broke down and paddled her rear end,” Scott c
ommented.

  “I did. I promised Sam we wouldn’t discuss her during our cuddle time, so you and I will talk about this later, okay?”

  “How come you get cuddle time and I don’t?” Scott demanded, plopping in his recliner.

  Sam stuck her tongue out at him. “Because part of the reason I NEED cuddle time is your fault,” she sassed him.

  Scott pointed his finger at her. “You wouldn’t get scolded if you watched your tongue, young lady. That’s your doing, not mine.”

  “If you weren’t so overbearing and bossy, I wouldn’t have to say things you don’t like to hear!” Sam snapped back.

  “You’re pushing me, youngster.”

  “I’m getting the sense that the two of you had a disagreement.” Dr. Quimby sighed patiently, looking down at his daughter, who glared at Scott.

  “Wow, you must be the brilliant one in this family to figure that out, Joe,” Scott grumbled, glaring back.

  “Act your ages, please. I have enough stress as it is right now. You are making me miss those boys more than ever. I never realized how much they help around here.”

  “Speaking of which, those two are having a grand old time playing bachelor right now. The jerks informed me that I wasn’t invited to their poker night.”

  “Is that what this is about? You weren’t invited to play with the kids and you’re having a fit? Seriously?”

  “No, it’s the fact that I wasn’t given the choice to refuse to come play. Then little big mouth here decided that her opinion needed to be heard.”

  “That’s not wise, little big mouth,” Dr. Quimby said softly.

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t care. He was acting like a butthead so I told him.”

  “That is NOT what you said. Tell the truth, young lady,” Scott ordered.

  “Okay, okay, I said you were acting like a jerk and needed to take your head out of your ass and that the boys didn’t need you to piss in their cheerios.”

  “Samantha!”

  “Well? It’s true.”

  “It’s disrespectful. You know better than that,” her father scolded firmly.

  “I know. I apologized, but he just kept going on and on. He sounded like a mean old lady with hemorrhoids.”

  “Samantha, go upstairs and get out of your uniform. Hurry back,” Dr. Quimby ordered gently, sliding her off his lap with a kiss. He swatted her as she scampered away, smiling. “She’s a good kid. Why do you torment her?”