TAINT ME, DADDIES

8: Stop Screening Our Calls

MAISIE

My heart was in my throat as Mom opened the box. The more she cut the tapes, the harder my heart pounded and the more my hands shook. I couldn't think of any other excuse… any other lie to make her stop.

All I could think of was my funeral and all the things Dad would do to me.

She was down to the last two cellotapes now and…

“Mom,” I pleaded, voice panicky and shaky.

“Felicia.” Dad’s voice boomed from a distance. We both looked up to see him standing at the top of the stairs.

“Get over here,” he commanded before retreating to the west wing that housed their rooms. His command flipped a switch in Mom, and she immediately scurried up the stairs. I exhaled in partial relief as I grabbed the box and ran up the stairs. I've never been more grateful for Mom's obsession with Dad than I am now.

I locked my door securely after me, heart still pounding at my near-death experience. I already had an inkling of what the gift would be, but I still couldn't conceal my shock when I opened it and saw a long, thick, and curvy golden dildo staring back at me.

And attached to it was a note:

A little help from us. We know you're starved, so you can use this before we finally come for you. V.B

My hands curled into tight fists as my fear evaporated into anger. I couldn't believe they sent this to my house. I couldn't believe they addressed it to my mother. I couldn't believe they signed it with their initials.

They've gone crazy. Completely and utterly crazy.

I dialed their number.

They picked up at the first ring.

“That was fast.” Came a cocky reply from one of them but I was too angry to even try to decipher who it was.

“Have you gone insane?” I asked, exasperated and pacing the length of my room, “How dare you send something like that to my house?”

“It's a dildo, sweetheart,” now I knew that was Ian with the cockiness in his voice, “and it's our little help to you. We figured out that you might need it to make you c*m before we claim you again.”

“You're insane,” I blurted out, not believing I was actually dealing with this.

“What do you think would have happened if my Mom opened the box? Do you know the kind of danger you put me in with this silly prank that you played?”

“It's not a prank, little Hawthorne,” Damon answered. There was a slight edge in his voice, one that made me shiver.

“It is a warning.”

“What?”

“Stop screening our calls. Stop going in the opposite direction when you see us. Stop removing yourselves from the groups we add you to.”

“What?” I was too shocked to say something else.

“The next time you ignore us, we might be forced to send a more explicit gift addressed to your dearest father.” Zahir completed, and I stopped, my anger thickening at their audacity to treat and talk to me this way.

But deep down, a part of me, one that I didn't know existed until I willingly hooked up with the Vanderbilt brothers two weeks ago, was thrilled.

“Is that a threat?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. It's a warning.”

My doorknob suddenly rattled, and my heart jumped to my throat.

“Maisie, are you in there? Open this door this minute.”

It was Mom, and I knew she was here to find out what I ordered. The speed at which I moved surprised me. I tossed my phone away, grabbed the s*x toy from the box, and threw it into my wardrobe. I looked around my room for something to replace it, but there was nothing.

Nothing at all until I saw the new erotica novels Angela gave me. I grabbed the biggest one, and I tossed it into the box.

“Maisie, if you don't open the door this instance, I will…”

I opened the door with a petulant smile on my face. She barely glanced at my face before she pushed me aside, entered my room, and made straight for the box on my bed.

“Mom, it's really not…” I faked a plea as she brought the book out.

“What is this?” she asked as she turned the book around. The cover was all shades of explicit with a bound up girl and a Dom standing over her with a whip.

“It's a novel, Mom. It's really nothing serious.”

“Really?” She read the blurb, then the first page, which was an excerpt of the girl giving the ML an unconventional blow job. My face colored up, and my cheeks heated. I couldn't believe I was using a book like this as a cover-up. It was equally as bad as a s*x toy.

“It doesn't look like just a novel to me, Maisie. This doesn't look like feminine classics that you should be reading.”

“It's not mine. It's Angela's and… I’m just keeping it for her and…”

“What genre of book is this? She surprised me with her question while I was dying inside.

“It's dark romance, Mom, but I swear it's not mine.”

“Tell me more,” she urged, eyes still gleaming over the pages with what I recognized now to be interest.

“It's… Dark romances are unconventional romance novels where the male leads resort to often twisted, deranged, and sometimes psychotic ways to claim the girls they want.”

“Ohh ohh,” Mom looked up at me, and I couldn't tell if that was amusement in her eyes or something else, “so you read books like this?”

“No, mom. It's Angela's and…”

“You don't have to lie to me, Maisie. This looks like fun, and I'd like to read something like this too.”

What? My prim and proper mom was confessing that she'd like to read a dark romance novel.

“Don't look so horrified, daughter. I'm just a girl, too.”

I didn't know how to react to her. I just stared.

“It's fine if you read them. Just don't get delusional from what you read there.”

“Okay, Mom.”

She nodded before she walked out of the room, and it was only after she was gone that I realized she didn't drop the novel.

I collapsed on the bed, tired and exasperated. My hand found my phone, and when I raised it, I realized the call to the Vanderbilt Brothers was still on.

What the hell? They probably heard everything. My hand instantly moved to the red icon.

“Don't dare cut the call, Maisie.”

“What do you want now?”

“So dark romance where the male leads resort to twisted, deranged, and psychotic ways to claim the girls they want?” Ian asked, and I rolled my eyes to the back of my head. Of course, they heard.

“I bet they have unconventional s*x too,” Zahir added, “who would have thought the Hawthorne Princess reads things like that?”

“f**k you.” I groaned into the phone while they replied with resounding chuckles.

“You'll get to do that in a minute, Little Hawthorne.”

“And stop screening our calls, sweetheart. You won't like what we'd send to your house next time.”