Page 142 of Double Daddies
And now, thinking about it, I’m realizing just how much they were controlling my life, making sure it was going their way.
How was I so blind to it all?
“I’ll surprise you. If you don’t like it, you can tell me and we’ll change it,” Elijah announces before walking off.
“Open up for Papa,” Brix says.
Tears pool in my eyes, and I press my hands against his chest. He drops the bowl, not expecting me to push him away. The bowl shatters when it hits the floor. Before I can even fully think through what I’m doing, I hop off the counter and land right on the broken pieces.
Chapter Three
Nora
I clench my jaw together as pain shoots through the soles of my feet. Tears pool in my eyes, and I cover my face with my hands, staying where I am.
“Shit,” Brix curses, rushing toward me.
His hands wrap under my arms, lifting me onto the counter once again. I stare at Brix with wide eyes, not fully comprehending what I have done. The pain ramps up with every passing second, not fully letting me get a deep breath before another wave of agony hits.
“Shhh, you’re okay,” Brix hushes. “Daddy has gone to get the first-aid kit.”
A sob racks my body as I cry into my hands.
“You’re going to be okay. I know it hurts, but try and focus on your breathing for Papa,” Brix gently whispers into my ear. “You’re such a good girl.”
Pain continues to run through my body, and all of a sudden, the jacket I’m wearing is making me too hot. My hand moves to my mouth as my gag reflexes kick in.
“Shit, Elijah,” Brix yells.
But before he can do anything, I throw up everything I’ve eaten and drank onto the floor in front of me. Tears are rolling down my face as I vomit once again. I tug on my jacket, trying to get it off, but can’t as another wave of vomiting kicks in.
“Pl-ple—” I can’t finish the sentence.
“Shh, you’re okay. Papa’s taking the jacket off you,” he gently says.
Cold air hits my arms as he removes the jacket, but I still feel nauseous from the pain. I look at Brix, tears cascading down my face.
“Oh, little bit.” Elijah walks into the kitchen with the first-aid kit. “Let’s get you into the living room. I’ve called Aiden. He should be here any second.”
Brix carefully picks me up and carries me into what I assume is the living room, sitting down with me on his lap. I make the mistake of looking at my feet and see blood dripping from them.
“Blood.” I heave, quickly looking away.
I’ve never had a problem looking at blood before, but my own blood? I want to throw up just from watching it.
“Trails of blood,” I manage to get out.
“Don’t worry about it. Daddy is cleaning you up. He’s put something under your feet to catch everything,” Brix whispers.
I turn my head into his chest, gripping his shirt with one of my hands. It’s an awkward angle, but I need some comfort right now.
“I got here as fast as I could!” someone shouts as they walk into the house.
I don’t move to see who it is, not wanting to risk looking at my feet and throwing up again. Footsteps get louder, and he sets something down, his bag.
“I’m Aiden, little one. I’m the doctor at Whiskey Mountain Lodge. I’m going to gently pick up your ankle to look at the bottom of the foot, but I won’t touch anywhere else,” he explains.
Gripping Brix’s shirt tighter, I twist my hand and push my face into him even more as Aiden touches my ankle. Whimpering, I close my eyes tighter and bite down on my lip.
