Page 64 of Pen Me

“Okay. Alright. Fuck, I’ll call you daddy.”

“No,” I drawled the answer out, puffing my breath over her clit while I gathered the pussy liquor near her entrance with two fingers and promptly planted them on either side of her asshole.

“Menace,” she panicked.

I shushed her, blowing air over that swollen little nub again. “Nope. It isn’t something you’ll call me to make my dick hard. It’s something you’ll understand in your soul. If we are together, I’m the only one that has dominion over you. When I say something, you will heed it, for your own safety– “

I’d stop everything and send her back, if she didn’t sound convincing. I had to.

It was Ziggy’s fuckin’ daughter. If she couldn’t stay put when I said or keep her ass out of the way of the police and bullets when the time came, I couldn’t risk it.

I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. She was the only one there for me when all this shit was falling apart. She was a good person, a beautiful woman, and the president’s fucking daughter.

“You want me to be your fuckin’ property or something?” she huffed.

She sounded a little off put by it, but I saw and felt the way her lower region clenched and quivered in front of me.

Before I could respond, an odd sound came from the cabin. I probably wouldn’t have paid the heavy series of thumps any mind, if that ear-piercing scream hadn’t followed it. That shit was worse than the alarm at the county jail. The repeated shrieks and screams had me tearing myself off of Sammy and darting toward the house in a dead run. She was right behind me; I could hear her thundering along across the twigs and up the stairs as she struggled to put her shirt back on.

The door was locked, leaving me to throw my weight against it, when I meant to barge in.

“Fuck. Let me in.” Something about those screams made me think they were a girl more than a woman, so I pounded and shouted louder, “Rumi, let me in now. It’s Uncle Menace.”

The door flew open in front of me and I jumped back, confused as fuck by the sight of Sammy. How the hell had she rounded the house and came up from the basement that fast?

She whipped around after opening it and ran to the bottom of the stairs where Rumi was holding her mother. Octavia had a lump on her forehead and a scrape that extended down the better part of her forearm. I didn’t see any real evidence of blood, though and Octavia wasn’t wailing like anything was displaced or too severely broken.

“Shit, I don’t even have my cell phone, Octavia. Where is yours?” Sammy asked.

“No. I’m fine. Please, I just got weak and dizzy while coming down. I guess I passed out, that's all.” Her whole face contorted as she tried to push herself into a sitting position to prove it. She made it, but then she ended up going quiet and holding her head. She weaved a little like she was disoriented but eventually righted herself again.

“Mommy–” Rumi started, but Octavia cut her off.

“It’s okay, my love.” She patted Rumi’s hand where it had landed on her shoulder and flashed her daughter a weak version of her best smile. “Back to bed with you, now.”

Octavia glanced toward me, all but imploring me with her eyes.

Sam returned with a cup of water and Octavia gently sighed, in a way that conveyed her gratitude as she took it, patting Sam’s hand, too.

“Hey, let’s give Sammy some space to help your mom, huh? She’ll stay with her until she has her balance better, come on, you,” I encouraged Rumi, holding my hand out to help her off the floor.

She looked toward my hand and then shot her mom a worried look.

“Go, Mija. School tomorrow. I love you, always.”

“Love you, too.” Rumi quietly murmured, taking my hand.

I led her up to the master room she was apparently sharing with her mother. When I opened the door, I couldn’t help but notice the king size bed overflowing with pillows.

“Man, you guys have quite the set-up, huh?” I tried to make it seem like there was no concern, and all would be well.

When I glanced at her, she had her head turned, still focused on the staircase behind us.

“I don’t think the chemo is working, Uncle Menace. She just keeps getting sicker.”

She may as well have slapped me Sammy style. I didn’t even know what to say or how to process the fact that Octavia hadn’t told her own daughter she was dying. I realized she was turned back toward me, and I inwardly cursed my inability to keep those kinds of emotions from registering across my face for the world to see. I quickly tried to smile and took a breath, as I mentally grappled for something reassuring to say. It was too late, though, she shoved me back and slammed the door between us.

Chapter Thirty-Two

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