Healing (General's Daughter Book 5) (22 page)

“Did Sam tell you?”

“No, the pod did. Why didn’t you call me?”

“No snitching policy, remember? What are you going to do?” Jen asked. Dr. Quimby removed his cammie jacket and hung it on the hook.

“I’m going to have a very serious talk with that young lady. Where are the others?”

“On the beach.”

“Make sure they stay there for a while. Excuse me. Cecily Jeanne Riley!” his voice bellowed as he stormed through the French doors.

She jumped, startled. “Huh? Oh, hi Joe. What are you doing home so early?” She regained her composure. In one sweep, the cigarette was out of her hand and glass taken from the table. Her eyes went wide.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted.

“Me? I’m an adult. You can’t stop me from smoking if I want.”

“In my home I certainly can. And you aren’t old enough to drink. Did you finish all this?” he demanded, holding up a bottle that was 2/3 empty.

“You have good taste in wine. It was very pleasant,” she commented, unbothered. Dr. Quimby stood before her, hands on his hips. His muscles bulged from his green tee shirt. Despite his anger, Cecily noticed how incredibly handsome he was. Too bad he was so old…

“…. Do you understand?”

“Huh? I wasn’t listening, sorry,” Cecily answered nonchalantly. Growling, the man grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “What do you think you are doing?”

“You are coming with me! NOW!” he ordered, dragging her easily into the house and up the stairs. She was tall, but had no strength against his. He pushed her into Rich’s room and closed the door behind them. “Sit!” he demanded, finger pointing in her face.

She frowned, anger rising in her, as she sat. “Don’t you talk to me like that!”

“I’m about to do more than talk, young lady. We have been nothing but supportive and respectful to you. Are you that hungry for attention that you need to be such a little bitch?”

“How dare you!” Cecily hissed.

Dr. Quimby crossed his arms, calming himself. “You have exactly one minute to explain yourself.”

“Or what?”

He leaned forward, hand on either side of her and he stared into her face. She pulled back fearfully. “Do you really want to go there?”

Inhaling, the girl summed up her courage and pulled forward, almost touching his nose. “Fuck you.”

Cecily shrieked as she suddenly found herself face down across his lap, his large hand smacking sharply and without mercy over her round bottom. She kicked, screamed, swore and tried to escape. The spanking continued, long and hard, the hot swipes undeterred by her shorts. They rode high enough to expose the under-curves of her cheeks and Dr. Quimby made certain that he focused on the exposed sit spots, turning them deep scarlet and very hot. He did not relent until she was finally sobbing and limp with exhaustion, and offering profuse apologies for her behavior. He held her in place, hand on her bottom, his legs hard and solid under her. Embarrassment flooded through her.

“If this happens again, I promise you that it will be to your bare bottom. I will not tolerate disrespect in my home. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Joe,” she wept.

He lifted her to sit next to him on the bed and put his arms around her gently. “I don’t like to have to discipline you, but I will if it helps you understand that we care enough to not ignore destructive behavior.”

Cecily just cried, partially from the pain in her burning backside, partially from humiliation and mostly from disbelief. He was holding her like he really cared. No one had ever done that. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

He kissed the top of her head, hugging her. “You’re forgiven. Get yourself cleaned up and then go to the deck and clean up every trace of cigarettes. No more drinking either. Understood?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s yes and no, sir for now on,” he said softly.

Cecily sighed. “Yes, sir. Joe? Did Jennifer tell on me?”

“Actually no. She wouldn’t break our no snitching policy. I told you I have house cameras for security reasons. They alert me to unusual activities,” he lied, knowing that she wouldn’t believe the story about the pod’s involvement. He barely believed it himself.

Sam and Scott walked into the house, simultaneously stripping off their cammie jackets and dumping them on the foyer floor. Dr. Quimby pointed to the clothing with a frown. “Hang them up. You know better.”

Scott shot him a bird, but picked up the jacket, handing it to Sam. She looked cranky.

“Have a bad day?” her father asked, hugging her close.

She nodded, leaning against him. “I need loves.”

Without another word, the man picked her up and carried her to the couch, cuddling her closely. Cecily watched with jealousy from the deck, her bottom still aching painfully. It wasn’t fair, she thought, she has everything. How dare that man humiliate her like this? I bet the perfect Samantha never has to deal with being treated like a juvenile. Cecily continued to fume silently as she swept up the ashes from her cigarettes.

Sam closed her eyes, the bridge of her nose nestled under her father’s strong chin. He needed a shave, but she didn’t care. She felt safe and loved.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head. “Nothing to talk about, just a hard day. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Why not?”

“I miss Michael and Rich in the house. It’s lonely without them.”

“You miss your playmates, huh? Well, maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you spend the night with them tomorrow.”

“On a school night?” she grinned, looking up at him, “What gives?”

“I think I should spend some time with these kids. They’re a hurting bunch.”

“I’m choosing to keep my mouth shut on my comments, Daddy. The only one I feel for is Monique.”

“They all hurt. Cecily especially.”

“Was everyone okay when you got home?”

“No. She was drinking and smoking on the deck. Then said ‘fuck you’ to me.”

“No way! What did you do?”

“You know damn well what I did. I feel sorry for her. She didn’t even know how to accept a genuine hug. Please, try to be more generous towards her. She’s incredibly jealous of you.”

“That’s her problem, not mine. Do we have to discuss her while I’m getting my Daddy time? It’s making me nauseous,” Sam grumbled.

He squeezed her lovingly, kissing the top of her head. “Not another word. There’s my girl,” he cooed, rocking her sweetly. Jealousy at its peak, Cecily snarled and stomped down the sea stairs to the beach, hating life and everyone in it.

Scott noticed her absence as he emerged from his room, dressed in shorts. “Where did Cecily go?” he asked.

“Probably down to the beach. She’s upset with me right now,” Dr. Quimby said, his long arms gathering Sam in a little ball on his lap as he felt her stiffen.

“Please tell me you finally broke down and paddled her rear end,” Scott commented.

“I did. I promised Sam we wouldn’t discuss her during our cuddle time, so you and I will talk about this later, okay?”

“How come you get cuddle time and I don’t?” Scott demanded, plopping in his recliner.

Sam stuck her tongue out at him. “Because part of the reason I NEED cuddle time is your fault,” she sassed him.

Scott pointed his finger at her. “You wouldn’t get scolded if you watched your tongue, young lady. That’s your doing, not mine.”

“If you weren’t so overbearing and bossy, I wouldn’t have to say things you don’t like to hear!” Sam snapped back.

“You’re pushing me, youngster.”

“I’m getting the sense that the two of you had a disagreement.” Dr. Quimby sighed patiently, looking down at his daughter, who glared at Scott.

“Wow, you must be the brilliant one in this family to figure that out, Joe,” Scott grumbled, glaring back.

“Act your ages, please. I have enough stress as it is right now. You are making me miss those boys more than ever. I never realized how much they help around here.”

“Speaking of which, those two are having a grand old time playing bachelor right now. The jerks informed me that I wasn’t invited to their poker night.”

“Is that what this is about? You weren’t invited to play with the kids and you’re having a fit? Seriously?”

“No, it’s the fact that I wasn’t given the choice to refuse to come play. Then little big mouth here decided that her opinion needed to be heard.”

“That’s not wise, little big mouth,” Dr. Quimby said softly.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t care. He was acting like a butthead so I told him.”

“That is NOT what you said. Tell the truth, young lady,” Scott ordered.

“Okay, okay, I said you were acting like a jerk and needed to take your head out of your ass and that the boys didn’t need you to piss in their cheerios.”

“Samantha!”

“Well? It’s true.”

“It’s disrespectful. You know better than that,” her father scolded firmly.

“I know. I apologized, but he just kept going on and on. He sounded like a mean old lady with hemorrhoids.”

“Samantha, go upstairs and get out of your uniform. Hurry back,” Dr. Quimby ordered gently, sliding her off his lap with a kiss. He swatted her as she scampered away, smiling. “She’s a good kid. Why do you torment her?”

“Me? What makes you think I did anything?”

“Because I know you. And I know her. She would never say anything like that to you if you didn’t push her to it. Remember, you’re the one who told her that you didn’t care what she said, but rather how she said it.”

“I should take that back,” Scott grunted. Dr. Quimby went on to detail the events of the afternoon, watching Scott frown. “I have a real hard time warming up to that girl, Joe. She reminds me too much of your mother. Sorry.”

“Yes, I know. Then there is little Monique. She seems to have gotten the good genes.”

“She is a lot like Samantha. Bet she could get into mischief too,” Scott grinned, lifting his head as Sam came back down stairs in shorts and a long shirt. He frowned, pointing to the place in front of him. “Front and center, young lady.”

Sighing, Sam obeyed, standing in front of him with her hands on her slender hips.

“I want cuddles too.”

“Then you need to ask me nicely and say you’re sorry for being a butthead,” Sam demanded. Scott grumbled his apology and forced out a request. Sam rolled her eyes as she looked at her father. “If that were Michael or me, you’d make us do it over again.”

“Just cuddle the man, Sam. Scott is enough of a drama queen that I don’t need you to be too.” Dr. Quimby sighed, stretching. He walked onto the deck to look for the other girls. He saw Monique running on the beach with Jen at her side, Cherell was sitting on a rock and Cecily was nowhere in sight. Great.

“Where’s your sister?” he asked Cherell as he joined them on the beach.

She looked up at him with a frown. “I don’t know. She stomped by a while ago. I guess she went down the beach or something.”

“Uncle Joe! I want to go swimming with the whale again!” Monique demanded, running up to him.

He smiled, patting her head. “That’s up to Sammi, honey. Did you see where Cecily went?” he asked Jen.

“No sir. I wasn’t paying attention to her. Just trying to keep this one from going in after the whale,” the girl said, frowning down at Monique.

The little girl placed her hands on her hips. “He liked me. Sam said so. Why can’t I swim with him?”

“It’s dangerous without Sam. You are never to go near the water without one of us with you, okay? And never, ever swim after the whales without Sam. That’s an order,” Dr. Quimby said firmly.

Monique frowned, stomping her foot. “That’s not fair. I swim good.”

“True, you do swim very well and, whether you feel it is fair or not, you need to mind me. Uncross your arms, please,” the big man ordered, looking down at the tiny child. He fought back laughter. Just like his sweet little princess, foot stomping, arm crossing redheaded temper. He could also tell Monique was becoming more comfortable with him, in testing her boundaries. He stared at her until she obeyed and then tugged her ponytail.

“I’m going to take a jog down the beach and find your sister. Why don’t you girls get back up to the house and see if you can convince Scott to make some ribs.”

“I wanna come,” Monique announced.

Dr. Quimby hid his amusement. “You may if you think you can keep up with me. My legs are a lot longer than yours.”

“Can Sam keep up with you?”

“Not in speed. Michael can, though.”

“I’ll help Scott then.”

Chuckling, Dr. Quimby took off down the stretch of sand, enjoying the fresh air as he stretched his long legs over the firm shoreline. He stopped two miles down where the beach was cut off by a high, steep jetty. There was no sign of Cecily. With a frown, he returned home, finishing his run by racing up the stairs. “Did Cecily come back? I couldn’t find her,” he asked, entering the kitchen.

“No, we haven’t seen her,” Jen said, gently pulling Monique’s hand away from the platter. ”Monique, I told you to stop that. You’re going to knock it over.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” the little girl said in a huff, her statement surprising Jen and the two men. They knew very well where she had heard the comment and from whom.

Jen frowned, leaning down to look at her face. “This is my house and I’m older than you. So yes, I am the boss of you. Now you can help or sit quietly in that chair in the corner by yourself. It is your choice.”

Monique scowled, then looked at the floor. “I’ll help.”

“Good. Here’s lettuce. After you wash your hands, you may tear it into pieces and put it in the salad bowl,” Jen ordered.

Scott nodded with approval as Dr. Quimby smiled. “Jenny’s got spunk. Can’t wait to see her with a dozen kids,” Scott said, reaching to pick up a piece of cucumber.

Jen rapped his knuckles with a wooden spoon and pointed it at him. “I can handle you and a dozen kids easy. Now take this to the grill and make yourself useful, please,” Jen commanded. Scott laughed, obeying her as he rubbed his knuckles.

Sam stared. “He’d KILL me if I ever talked to him like that.”

“She’s in mommy mode, Sam. Scott respects that. I need your help. Cecily’s disappeared.”

“Is she in trouble, Uncle Joe?” Monique asked.