When I get back home, it’s almost nighttime.
I hadn’t meant to spend so much time away from my fatherly duties but coming back with a truck full of food and other things I think should more than enough make up for it.
Besides, these kids will have to learn to fend for themselves eventually and they can view this as a trial run.
I honk the horn before I turn off the engine and step out of my vehicle. I may have gone out and bought all of this shit, but they know they have to bring it inside.
I think it’s part of the reason Richter doesn’t ‘forget’ about what we need. One time I came home with so much shit that it took them at least four of five trips each to bring it in and unpack it all.
Skylar comes running out first, then her brother. Something about the way they aren’t looking at me right now tells me they may be hiding a secret or two.
Doesn’t matter.
I’ll flesh it out by will or force and they both know it.
There aren’t any secrets under my roof. I don’t allow that bullshit because that’s how trust gets broken, and I’ve already had more than my fair share of that.
“Once you bring everything inside, come into the living room,” I say to them over my shoulder as I start walking toward the front door.
I get comfortable on the couch, the same one this entire thing started on.
The one that made me first realize that I wasn’t a normal son to an ordinary mother. The one that I first showed Jocelyn how to be a good wife on.
It’s one of the very few things I kept after I left Taylee’s home, and it’s been pivotal in helping me continue being the man I know she would have wanted me to become.
As I shrug off my jacket and toss it to the side, I find myself wondering if she was ever proud of me.
Granted, I know she wasn’t born as crazy as she turned out to be with the circumstances she dealt with and all, but I don’t know. I guess there was always that hope there that when she started acting like a normal, caring mother, it would stick.
But it never did.
And now I am who I am because of her, and I can’t say that I regret it much.
Another ten minutes or so of me being lost in the thoughts of things I can’t—or wouldn’t—have been able to change, and they finally waltz in the fucking living room.
“We’re done, Daddy” Skylar says as she and her brother come to stand in front of me.
“Sit down,” I say patting the spot next to me. I glance up at the boy and motion for him to sit on the other side of me, and watch as he carefully lifts my jacket, folds it, and places it on the coffee table.
“Did we do something wrong?” he asks nervously.
“Did you?” I question as I turn my attention toward him. “It took you both an awfully long time to come outside and start unpacking the truck.”
“What?”
His face screws up in confusion because he knows that they came out almost immediately.
But this is a test and I want to see if he passes.
“What kept you?” I query as I lean back against the couch cushions.
“Nothing. Honest, Dad. As soon as we heard the horn, we stopped what we were doing and ran out to help.”
Gotcha.
“And what were you doing that needed stopping?”
Another look of confusion creases his brow as he holds my gaze. “I was in my room getting changed so I could go outside and work on the roots near the… um, the uh…”
“Hm.”
I rub the bridge of my nose as I glance at Skylar.
“And you?”
“I was getting some bedsheets out of the drier, Daddy.”
“I wasn’t aware that the bedding needed turning over,” I reply meaningfully.
Skylar sucks in a sharp breath.
Of the two of them, she seems to the one with the brains.
“No, Daddy. I promise,” she exclaims, shaking her head vehemently back and forth.
“Stand up and pull your pants down,” I tell her as I sit up and lean my elbows on my knees.
She looks even more afraid now than she was when she thought I was assuming things, but a woman’s virtue isn’t something that can be seen to the naked eye.
Skylar does as she’s told and stands with her hands clasped in front of her panties. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s trying to hide that pretty little pussy from me.
“Panties next,” I say evenly.
She turns her face away for a moment before complying, then attempts to cover herself again.
“Put a foot on the coffee table,” I instruct her as I reach behind her and pull it closer.
I take in a big whiff of that sweet scent of hers, before I look up into her eyes. Placing a hand on her hip to steady her, I lick the tip of my thumb and ready myself to find out if these kids have been lying to me.
“Take a deep breath and be a good girl for Daddy,” I tell her as I push her legs apart and start to slip my thumb inside of her.
She’s not wet enough yet, so she grimaces, but I don’t pay it any mind.
This isn’t about making her feel good, it’s about finding out if she’s just another lying bitch.
And when the tip of my thumb gets stopped before I can push it all the way into her, I nod and pull it back out.
“You can get dressed now and go back to your chores. Both of you,” I say as I get to my feet.
Walking out of the living room, I make my way toward the kitchen, completely aware of the fact that Skylar has been a little too compliant these past couple of days.
They have something up their sleeves and think I don’t see it coming.
It’s alright, though.
Tomorrow is a big day, and they better get as much sleep as they can, because whether they like it or not, it’s finally time for them to make me proud.