Because the truth is, for once, this doesn’t feel like anotherrecklessjump. Like I’m flailing just to prove I can keep up with everyone else. For once, it feels like the start of something I don’t want to run from.
As always, I got sucked into listening to my family, and by family, I mean my brother. Oh, and my father. Which is how I found myself in agreement that after school drop-offs, before pick-ups, and everything in between, I’d still need to help out at the farm. Because God forbid I just quit clean.
So that morning, after taking Teddy to school, I mucked in. Helped the boys shift a stubborn gate into place. Fed the cattle. Even wrestled with the auger until it stopped jamming. All on my own, thank you very much. I don’t need a man hovering over my shoulder to prove I’m capable.
And sure, Xavier stood back, arms crossed, watching like he expected me to fold any second. I didn’t. If anything, the glare in his eyes only pushed me harder. I might be the youngest Mitchell, but I’m not fragile. And my family knows that. Now, I’m parked outside the school in Sebastian’s spare ute that he entrusted to me, with a booster seat, waiting for Teddy. My phone buzzes on the passenger seat. Speak of the devil, of course.
Sebastian: Did he eat breakfast?
Sebastian: Was he okay at drop-off?
Sebastian: You remembered his hat right?
Sebastian: Was he alright this afternoon?
I snort, thumbing out a reply.
Me:Relax, Dad.
Me:He’s still inside. You’ll know as soon as I do.
Sebastian: Just making sure. He likes routine.
Me: Routine, noted. I’m the cool babysitter, remember? I’ve got this.
The bell rings, and kids pour out the doors, chattering and running. Teddy appears in the stream, slower, eyes locked on the ground. His teacher walks with him, hand gentle on his shoulder.
“Hi, Olivia,” she greets with a smile. “Teddy had a great day today. He was very focused.”
I blink. How the hell does she know my name? Then it clicks.
Sebastian must’ve notified the school already, probably sent one of his trademark detailed emails explaining that Teddy’s got a new babysitter. Because that’s the type of man he is. Thorough. Protective. Always two steps ahead. At least from what I’ve gathered so far.
“Good to hear,” I say, smiling back.
Teddy doesn’t look at me, just clutches his backpack strap and waits. I crouch a little, trying.
“Hey, champ. Ready to go home?”
He hesitates, then gives the faintest nod. No words. Just quiet compliance. I take it as a win.
Back at Sebastian’s, I follow the printed list on the fridge.Afternoon routine, neatly bullet-pointed, underlined twice like my new boss is running a military operation.
Teddy’s snack. Lego time. Reading. Dinner at five sharp. I roll my eyes, grab a pen, and scribble something on a Post-it note and slap it on top of his precious instructions. That one’s for him to find later. Teddy’s sitting cross-legged on the rug, cars lined up in a perfect row, while I duck outside to put his shoes by the door, like Sebastian requested. That’s when I see it.
A shadow. No, abeast.
Big. All muscle and snarling teeth. A German Shepherd with a darkened muzzle and eyes locked right on me.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper.
This is not a friendly lapdog. This is a demon straight from Hell. A killing machine. I try to stay calm, my brain screaming rational thoughts.
Walk slowly. Don’t make sudden moves. Don’t run.I inch backward, heart hammering. The thing growls low, deep, like it knows exactly how terrified I am. Somehow, I make it backinside and slam the door, chest heaving. My fingers fumble for my phone, and I hit call. He answers on the second ring.
“You could have warned me you have a fucking demon dog outside!” I whisper-shout.
There’s a pause, then his voice, which is maddeningly calm, retorts. “I see you met Diesel.”
