“Don’t you dare,” I growl at her. “If you tell me you love that little turd, I’ll throw you out of here myself.”
She whimpers as she shuts her mouth again. Looking at her, a million fears are bubbling to the surface. This is not the child I raised.
“So, is this it?” I say. “You fucking now?”
She opens her mouth shakily, then closes it again. She shakes her head.
I glance down at her clothes. She’s in her tank top and pajama bottoms. Pretty much fully clothed. Especially in comparison to‘Paulie’. I believe her, but if for any reason I’d have been any later tonight…
I can’t deal with this. All I want to do is put my fist through a wall. Or go chase that little shit down and break his skinny little legs.
“I don’t know what you think you are doing, Sasha,” I say. “You are fifteen years old.”
“To be fair, a lot of kids my age are having sex?—”
“A lot of kids are on their way to boarding school this year. You want to join them?”
Her eyes get as large as saucers. Shock. Then she stands up and says, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Hey, it’s either that or keep a guard here overnight while I’m at work. Do I need to have your uncle come over and patrol the house at night to make sure you don’t turn into some whore?”
The tears well up as she yells, “Don’t talk about me like that! I am not a whore!”
“Then stop doing whorish things, Sasha!”
That hurt her and at this moment, I don’t care. She needs somebody to hurt her to keep her from doing this ever again.
“You’re a fucking monster,” she sobs. “Mom would never?—”
My hand flies on its own, poised to backhand her across the face. She flinches, closing her eyes and throwing up her hands to protect herself.
Shit. Almost lost it there. I take a half-step back from her. “You’re grounded. No screen time and no going anywhere other than home and school for a month.”
“A month?”
“Wanna try for two?”
We stare each other down before she finally looks down at her shoes, the tears dripping from her face.
“Go to bed,” I say and walk out.
I can’t believe her. She comes home from camp and all of a sudden, she thinks she can just fuck guys in the house and…
I need to calm down. Hell, maybe I should make good on getting my guys to start patrolling the house at night. The last thing I need is for Sasha to suddenly start acting out on me.
I go downstairs to my kitchen and make myself a drink. I’ve never really had a guarded presence at the house unless we were at war. I know other Bratva do it for their own safety, but I’ve always thought it was too paranoid for my tastes.
But if I did have somebody here at night, either way, this shit wouldn’t have happened. I would imagine an armed guard is a great deterrent for a teenage boy to sneak over the gates to fuck your daughter.
I stand over the sink and sip the glass of vodka I just poured. When did this whole parenting thing get so complicated, anyway? I could easily have killed that kid and buried him in my backyard. No one would have thought much of it if I did.
Except for Sasha. She’ll eventually forgive me for grounding her, but she’d never forgive me for actually hurting that little bird-chested bastard.
My glass is already half empty and the burning warmth is starting to work on my agitated state of mind. My kid is growing up on me. It’s too soon.
I catch movement outside, in the woods just beyond the gates of my property. The trees move in the darkness and suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
And I see a silhouette, moving in and out of the light. I see dirty blue jeans and a dark hoodie…
