Chapter 6
6
“ W hat do you mean he’s missing?” Ink thundered into the phone.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Isaiah said tiredly. “I checked the camera feed for the past couple of days and Leon hasn’t been around. Tonight, when it got dark, I snuck into his house. Looks like he hasn’t been there for a while. There’s mail in the mailbox, and dirty dishes in the sink.”
Ink paced back and forth through the living room. Bandit kept pace with him.
He knew that Zippy’s foster father was an asshole. When they’d been given a chance to foster her, her caseworker had explained that Zippy had threatened her former foster father with a knife.
She’d also said they didn’t have to take her if they felt threatened or in danger.
Jesus.
Any idiot could tell that there was more to the story. But Zippy was pretty tight-lipped.
However, something awful had to have happened for Zippy to threaten him like that.
It made Ink feel ill.
Which is why he’d asked an old friend to keep an eye on her ex-foster father, Leon.
“What about the wife?” Ink asked.
Isaiah had tried to approach her without the husband around, but she wouldn’t speak to him. And Zippy barely said anything about her.
“Well, she was on the camera feed. I saw her drive out of the garage yesterday morning. I checked through the closets, all of her clothes are gone.”
“Do you think he’s with her? She might have picked him up somewhere.”
“Could be. But his clothing is still in the closet.”
“Fuck.” Was the bastard coming for Zippy? Fear filled Ink. They’d only just gotten her. He wasn’t going to fail to protect her.
“Just be careful with your girls,” Isaiah told him. “This guy seems like a real piece of work. He holds down a good job, has friends who think he’s great, neighbors who speak highly of him, but his wife jumps at any loud noises and has haunted eyes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep a close eye on them. Just do me a favor and keep that camera there, recording. And tell me if he comes back?”
“You got it. Tell me if you need me for anything else.”
“Thanks, Isaiah.” He ended the call and looked over at the clock. It was just after eight. Betsy had texted him to say that she was taking Zippy Christmas shopping and they’d have dinner out.
“They should be home by now, Bandit,” he grumbled.
The dog sat and stared up at him, his head to one side. Reaching down, Ink patted his head.
The door opened and the boys walked in. Well, Royal walked. Baron ran, talking wildly and gesturing. Bandit greeted them both enthusiastically.
“Yo, Pops, what’s happening?” Baron asked.
“Evening,” Royal said with a drawl.
“Why do you look all pinched?” Baron asked, walking closer to him. “Like you’ve smelled something bad.”
“Perhaps he has,” Royal said, dropping the bag he was carrying on the floor and leaning against the wall of the living room.
“Yeah. Or he could be constipated. That’s a constipated face right there,” Baron said. “Is there anything to eat? Where’re Ma and Zippy?”
Ink sighed. These two. They’d seriously given him a number of gray hairs since he’d first met them.
And there were likely many more to come.
“They went Christmas shopping,” Ink said. “I’m going to call them. They’re late.”
“It’s only eight,” Royal pointed out.
“And it’s not a school night,” Baron added as he walked into the kitchen to open the fridge. “Give them some time together. Although, I hope they’re bringing home food.”
“What’s going on?” Royal asked as Ink drew out his phone. “You’re more tense than usual.”
“And you’re usually really tense,” Baron added as he walked over, eating a huge hunk of cheese. “Like, if we stuck a pin in you, you’d pop!”
Ink sighed. Did he tell them? For all their joking around, they were good guys. Smart and resourceful and protective.
If also reckless, somewhat crazy, and bottomless pits. He eyed Baron as he grabbed an apple and banana and started to eat them.
At the same time.
“All right, sit down. I need to tell you something. But I have to text Betsy first and find out how long she’s going to be.”
And to check that everything was all right.
Both Baron and Royal sat. Royal was sitting up straight in an armchair while Baron sprawled across the couch. Bandit jumped up with him, lying on top of him.
They might look identical but their personalities were very different.
Ink: Baby, where are you?
Betsy: On my way home.
Ink frowned.
Ink: You better not be texting and driving, little girl.
No answer back. Oh, she was going to be in big trouble when she got home if that was the case.
“What’s wrong?” Royal asked.
Ink put his phone down. “Zippy’s foster father has gone missing.”
The boys shared a look. “Has he?”
Both of them said that at the same time.
“Yes.” He eyed them suspiciously. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
Both of them held up their hands in gestures of innocence.
“It wasn’t us,” Royal said.
“Although we were contemplating ways we could make him disappear. For good.” Baron gave him a wolfish grin.
Ink sighed.
Christ. He was going to have a full head of gray hair by the new year.
“What are you worried about?” Royal sat forward. “Wait. Are you worried about Zippy?”
“Shit!” Baron shot up, looking more alert. “You think he’s coming after her?”
Ink sighed and sat, facing them. “I’ve got no evidence of that. Could be that he’s done a runner for some other reason. His wife was spotted leaving and her stuff is gone. Maybe she’s run from him and he’s gone after her.”
“Poor woman, hope she gets away,” Royal said with a frown.
Yes. Although what had she actually done to protect Zippy?
Well, it was hard to know since Zippy didn’t really want to tell them.
“But even though you don’t know where this guy has gone, you’re worried he could be coming for Zippy,” Royal said. “You’ve had someone keeping an eye on him?”
Ink nodded. “I have. And he’ll continue keeping an eye out. I’m probably being over-cautious, but . . .”
“Better that than be taken by surprise,” Royal said.
“What are you going to do?” Baron asked. “Keep Zippy and Ma under lock and key?”
“Zippy’s only seven. I know she seems older, but she’s still a child and I don’t want to worry her,” Ink told them.
The twins shared a look.
“Don’t know if that’s a good idea, Pops,” Baron warned.
Ink shot him a look. “Stop calling me Pops, I’m not your grandfather.”
Baron gave him a look and Ink groaned.
“No, but you look it. Doesn’t he, brother?” Baron asked.
“He certainly does,” Royal drawled. “Probably due to all those grays.”
“And the wrinkles. Don’t forget the wrinkles,” Baron added.
“His grouchy manner doesn’t help,” Royal said.
“Neither does the pot belly he’s growing.”
Fuck, he’d walked right into that one.
“I do not have a pot-fucking-belly,” he muttered. “We need to get back to this matter. It could be serious.”
Baron and Royal looked at each other and nodded. “All right. We’re in agreement.”
“Agreement about what?” Ink asked suspiciously. You could never be sure with these two.
“We’re going to stay home from now on and watch Ma and Zippy,” Baron said.
“Uh, no, you’re not.” How the hell had they reached that conclusion?
“Of course we are,” Royal said, his eyes narrowing. “We can hardly leave them unprotected now that we know there might be a threat.”
“Nope. Can’t do that,” Baron agreed. “We have to stay and take care of them.”
“They’re family,” Royal stated. “That’s what you do for family.”
Ink was getting a headache. “You guys do remember what I do for a living, right?”
“You mean how you sit around in an office and order people around?” Baron asked.
Ink glared at him.
“Don’t get us wrong,” Royal added. “We admire that.”
Baron nodded. “Royal has plans to be a dictator too. But on a bigger scale.”
“What every father needs to hear.”
They froze and stared at him.
“What?” Ink asked. “What is it?”
“It’s just the first time you’ve ever referred to yourself as our father,” Baron told him.
Ink cleared his throat. “Sorry if you don’t like that.”
They glanced at each other, then him.
“We don’t object,” Royal said as they heard the garage door open.
“Just so long as we don’t have to call you ‘Daddy,’” Baron said cheekily.
Dear Lord.
“Do not let Betsy know that you two know about that.” He’d suspected that they knew about his and Betsy’s relationship. They were smart, observant kids and he’d often noticed the way they shielded and protected Betsy.
He wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up being Doms.
Or dictators.
Dear. Lord.
“You aren’t staying home from college. Not happening. I have this under control. I’ll protect Zippy and Betsy,” he said urgently as he heard the girls’ voices. “Understand? Things have to be as normal as possible for Zippy.”
And for Betsy too.
“Plus, we don’t need you getting kicked out of college.”
“Hmm . . . about that . . .” Baron said.
“What did you do?” Ink asked with a groan.
“It was just a small fire,” Baron said hastily.
“What was a small fire?” Betsy asked as they both walked in, laden down with bags.
Ink instantly jumped to his feet and rushed over to relieve her of everything, while Baron and Royal grabbed Zippy’s bags. Bandit eagerly greeted the two of them, dancing around and barking happily.
“Baby, why didn’t you leave everything in the car for me to get?” he gently scolded.
“We could manage,” Zippy said. “We’ve got big guns, aye, Betsy?” The little girl held up her arms, curling the elbows.
“Oh, those are impressive,” Ink agreed. “However, just because you can doesn’t mean you have to when I’m here to do those things for you.”
Zippy looked a bit confused by that.
“Makes us feel useful,” Royal explained to her.
“Ahh.” Zippy nodded as though she understood that.
Maybe she did.
“Wow, what did you guys buy? Did you leave anything for everyone else?” Baron joked as he pretended to stumble under the weight of all the bags.
“Of course we did, silly,” Zippy told him. “There’s plenty left at the shops.”
“Do not go looking in those bags,” Betsy said to him as he set them down. “Now, what did you burn down?”
“Nothing.” Baron held up his hands. “I’m innocent.”
“He is, Ma,” Royal added. “He was with me when the car caught fire so it couldn’t have been him.”
“Car? What car? I thought you were talking about the chemistry lab?” Betsy demanded.
“Whoa, you set a car on fire?” Zippy stared up at Baron with wide eyes.
Ink couldn’t tell if she looked horrified or excited. Maybe a bit of both.
“I didn’t,” Baron said. “I couldn’t have. I was with my brother. At a party.” He shot a look to Betsy. “Where we were not drinking.”
“I think at this stage; underage drinking is the least of my worries.” Betsy sat, looking exhausted.
Ink shot her a worried look. There had been a lot going on lately. And now he had to tell her about Zippy’s ex-foster father. Their time together on Monday had been good for both of them, but also far too short.
Maybe what they all needed was a vacation.
“Don’t worry, Ma. The guy that owned the car was a real dick,” Baron said. Then he glanced at Zippy. “Urgh, I mean, not a very nice man.”
“I’ve heard the word ‘dick’ before,” Zippy informed him. “What did the guy do?”
“He hit his girlfriend,” Royal said coldly. “We don’t like men that hit women.”
“Or children,” Baron said.
Zippy was watching them both with a strange expression on her face. Then she nodded solemnly.
“They’re bad men that do that,” she whispered.
God.
Had her foster father hit her? Was that why she’d threatened him?
Baron crouched in front of her. “Yeah. They sure are. Very bad men. Has anyone ever hurt you like that, Zippy?”
Ink held his breath. It could be the wrong move. She could clam up.
To his surprise, she shook her head. Was she lying?
“That’s good. If anyone ever does, you will tell me and Baron,” Royal said firmly. “We’ll take care of them.”
“Will you set their car on fire?” Zippy asked.
Baron grinned. “Now would we do a thing like that?”
“I swear, I’m getting gray hairs from you two,” Betsy muttered.
“Don’t worry, Ma. No one can prove a thing.” Baron winked and sat back on the sofa. “Now, did you bring us any dinner?”
“No, but I can order pizza,” Betsy said, pulling out her phone.
“Pizza!” Baron crowed. “Now, you’re speaking my language.”
“Baron? Royal?” Zippy asked.
“Yes?” Royal asked, sitting back down.
Baron moved to the couch with Bandit.
“Do the two of you have letters for Santa?” she asked, looking up at Betsy skeptically.
“Sure do!” Baron said, jumping to his feet and pulling a crumpled list out of his back pocket.
“You carry it on you?” Ink asked dryly.
“Uh, yeah. What if I need to add to it and I don’t have it? Then I might forget what I want.”
“You could write it on your phone,” Zippy told him.
Baron gasped, his hand on his chest as he gave her a comical look of horror. “Santa isn’t digital. Santa likes paper letters. Look, I’ve even said please and thank you.”
Ink had to shake his head with a grin as Baron showed Zippy his letter to Santa complete with what looked to be a long wish list.
Betsy moved closer to him. “She told me that Santa didn’t come the last two years, so she doesn’t believe in him anymore.”
Ink closed his eyes, letting the pain of that wash over him. “We’ll change that.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I convinced her to buy a stocking and we got matching Christmas pajamas for everyone. As well as some gifts.”
“You had fun, then?” He tilted her chin up.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He kissed her lightly.
“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” she asked, reading him easily.
“I’ll tell you later, Brown eyes,” he told her.
“Okay, enough of the public displays of affection,” Baron protested, shaking his head. “Old people. Gross.”
Both Zippy and Royal nodded.
“Why don’t you guys carry this stuff up to our bedroom?” Betsy suggested. “No peeking.”
“Do you really think that Santa is going to bring you a jet ski for Christmas?” Zippy asked Baron as they moved to gather everything up.
“If you don’t ask, you don’t get,” Baron replied.
“He is not getting a jet ski,” Betsy said as they disappeared upstairs. “Right?”
“Well, not from us. And Santa better not get any crazy ideas,” Ink said.
“What’s going on?” Betsy asked as he took her hand and led her to the playroom.
After unlocking the door, he guided her in and shut the door behind them.
“Ink? You’re starting to worry me.”
He headed to the bed and sat, pulling her between his open legs.
“I’m going to take care of this, okay? There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“Then just tell me.”
He sighed and explained everything that had happened. God, he hated seeing the worry on her face.
“Oh God. He could be coming for her. How would he know where she is, though?”
Lifting her, he placed her on his lap so her legs straddled his. “Listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to Zippy. Or to you.”
“I’m not worried about me!”
Well, he was. But then he was always worried about all of them. All the time.
But that was his job as the head of this small household.
Their protection rested on his shoulders.
“We don’t know that he’s coming for Zippy. There could be another reason he’s disappeared.”
“But you’re concerned.”
“I’m cautious,” he corrected.
“What shall we do?”
He brushed her hair back off her face. “We just need to be careful. I don’t want you going anywhere by yourself anymore. All right?”
“But this is about Zippy!” she cried.
“This is about the two of you,” he told her. “About keeping everyone safe. I’m going to talk to the school. It’s secure there or I wouldn’t let Zippy go there. But I think it would be better if I took her and picked her up or you had someone with you when you did that.”
“Will you tell her?” she asked.
“I don’t think it’s wise. I don’t want to scare her. Perhaps we can say that I’m worried about you driving with the changes in the weather.”
“I guess so.”
“The boys want to stay home and look after you both,” he told her. Mostly as a distraction.
She sat up straight, looking fierce. “Oh no, they aren’t!”
“Don’t worry, I told them that. It’s going to be okay, baby. I’ll take care of everything. I’m going to get Brody to see if he can track him through his bank account. We’ll find him. He won’t get near Zippy or you.”
“All right.” She slumped in against him and he squeezed her tight. “And I’ll check what’s going on with Baron and this car.”
“Dear. Lord.”
“Now, I just have one more question for you.”
“What is it?” She drew back so she could see his face.
“Were you texting while driving?”
Her eyes widened. “No, uh, well, I mean . . . I’d stopped at lights.”
“Betsy,” he said warningly. “That’s not good enough. That’s getting you a hot bottom when we have the house to ourselves.”
“Well, that doesn’t happen very often, so I’m guessing I’m safe for a while.” She managed a small grin.
“Brat.” Although she wasn’t wrong. He set her on her feet and then stood.
Grasping hold of her waist, he held her in place while he delivered several hard smacks to her ass. “Guess that will have to tide you over until I can get to the real thing.”
“That felt like the real thing!” she cried, rubbing her bottom.
“Afraid not. Now, how about a family movie night? Complete with pizza and hot cocoa.”
“With whipped cream and marshmallows?” she asked.
“Of course. Is there any other way to drink hot cocoa?” he teased.