Chapter Sixteen
Tizzy
Two Weeks Later
I hum as I measure the sugar, then toss it in the bowl. Yup, you heard that right. I’m in the kitchen again. Baking my gosh-darn tush off, and I love it, don't get me wrong. Still, a girl like me needs a bit of sunshine in her life, and I can't get that down here in the trenches. That’s what I call this bunker bat cave my boys have got going on here.
“Hey Mama Tiz! Got any more of them peanut butter cookies?” Caesar asks, coming up to the island. I smile as I push the plate over to him. I’ve been here close to a month, and these boys sure have made a girl feel welcome. They all come to call me Mama Tiz, and it warms my glittery heart every single time. Still, as much as I’ve come to love all these boys and my Big Papa more than the rest… I can't help feeling like these walls are working their way closer to my rooty tooty booty.
I’ve tried bringing this up with my stubborn old man, but he’s pretty set in his ways, wanting to keep me safe, which I get, but they have this place scoped out and protected better than Area 58. Which, if I'm being honest, isn't as safe as some might believe. Then again, that could be because Area 58 is just a diversion for the real… wait, wait, wait, wait, I'm getting off-topic.
I NEED AIR!
“Bunny.” I hear my name growled behind me. Probably for “shaking my butt in front of one of his men.”
Apparently, that's a big no-no, though I can't help but get footloose when breaking all these baking laws. The hips have a mind of their own, and I'm not about to be the one to ruin their good time. Right now, that disagreement can go to the back burner cause now's my chance.
“Ah! Just the man I was looking for,” I holler back.
“How were you looking? You didn't even leave the kitchen.” Devon grins while stalking around the island.
“Don't get off topic! We got some business!”
“Oh, I love business,” he says, waggling his eyebrows and pulling me close to him. I smile and sink into his arms, then realize my mistake.
“Stop that. Get your arms off me. You're trying to distract me.”
“Never, precious bunny,” he says, but I see the small smirk.
“You old dawg. Now listen here. I'm trying to tell ya somethin’,” I say, patting his chest over his Prez tag.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. Alright, hit me with it,” he says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island and crossing his arms, giving me his full attention.
“Alright, I’ll get to the point. I want to go out.” I hold up my hand before he starts to speak. “Before you say no, just listen to me. I—”
“Alright, Bunny. We can go outside.”
“The Property is safe. I… wait. What?” I stop my practiced and perfected speech, completely surprised.
“We can get you out from down here for a little bit.” I start to get excited, but this time, he holds up his hand before I bounce right out of my shoes. “But I have some conditions.”
“Okay, I can handle that,” I say, trying really hard to not wiggle at his ultimate defeat.
“First, we won't be leaving the compound. We’re safe behind our perimeter, and I can keep you safe. Second, you do as I say. I love your fire, Bunny, but I also need you to know that I can't let anything happen to you. It would not only kill me, it would obliterate me.”
I want to gasp and cry, maybe do another little wiggle. He basically just admitted his love for me, right? I mean, he had a roundabout way of saying it. Still, I’m taking it as it counts, as with everything else that involves Devon. I decide to jump in feet first.
“Eek! I love you too, Big Papa!” I squeal, jumping into his arms and kissing the bottom of his chin. When I pull back, I see the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. “And I promise I’ll stay safe within your arms' reach!”
“Thank you, baby girl,” he whispers, giving my nose one final kiss and then slapping my ass.
“I’ll pack us a lunch to go,” I tell him, getting everything ready.
“I’ll go get the four-wheeler filled up,” he remarks, turning and walking toward the far hallway that leads to the garage. Before he gets fully out of sight, though, he turns back around to look at me.
“Oh, and Bunny?”
“Yeah?” I call over my shoulder as I dig through the cabinets for a small bag to keep our drinks cold.
“I love you too, baby.” Then he walks out. I’m stuck looking at the cabinet, my mind completely focused on his words. He really does love me; he basically screamed it!
“Uh, I feel like maybe I should have left a while ago, but honestly, there was no way I was missing out on cookies and a show,” Caesar says from his spot at the counter. I had forgotten he was there. Oh well, it's time to get my booty in gear. I’m breaking free of this jailhouse for a bit.
One hour later, we’re getting our gear set up, and Ghost pulls out one container of worms and one container of crickets from his basket. I pick up the pretty, glittery, sparkling pink fishing rod that Devon had apparently gotten for me earlier. This man is just eating up my almost fully healed heart.
“Alright, let me see the hook, and I’ll get this work secured…” Before he can finish, I reach into the container, grab a worm, and hook it myself. When I look up and catch his shocked expression, I can't help but laugh.
“Georgia girl bread, born, and baked all the way through. I know how to hook a line, drive a stick, and even play in the dirt.” I wink at him before casting out my line and sitting back to wait.
Hours later, it's getting dark, and I’ve caught more fish than I could count on my fingers and toes. I toss back another as I throw back my head and laugh. I’ve been having the time of my life and couldn't have asked for a better day. Not once did Devon get upset I caught five fish to every one of his. He never acted as if he knew better. He let me handle the dang things and did it with a big smile, proud as could be. Just being here, with him, has brought me more back to life, and I sigh in relief.
“So, think this helped a bit with that claustrophobia? Think you can go back to the trenches for a bit?” Devon teases me as we pack up our things.
“I think I can take a couple more weeks,” I say, but pause, then think better of it. “Well, maybe just a week.”
He growls before striding over to me, grabbing me by the ass, and lifting me into his arms. I laugh as he spins me around a few times before stopping to plant a whopping kiss right on my puckered lips. I let him lead; he loves the control, and I love giving my all to him. Quickly, though, just like every other kiss, it gets heated, and I'm left wanting to ride him like a show pony.
“Got any comfy beds topside around here?” I ask, looking around the pond, hoping to see somewhere soft he can love to lay me down.
He laughs and opens his mouth, probably to argue, but his body stiffens. He tilts his head to the side and listens for a minute. Then we hear his phone go off. Quickly pulling it from his pocket, he answers before it can get to the second ring.
“What is it?” he asks when I hear Crypt's voice on the other end of the line.
“There's a breach at the back of the property. Two clicks from where you and Mama Tiz are. Need to find cover, boss.” I hear a low hum before he finishes explaining. Devon is pulling me closer to the tree coverage, but before we can get there, I spot a black flying…
“Is that a UFO?” I blurt out, confused.
Devon, even before my UFO revelation, already has his weapon pulled and takes the shot.
“No! What if there was an innocent little creature in there? You know, like the one in Men in Black,” I cry out. “We need to help him.”
“Bunny, not to get your hopes dashed, but that wasn't a UFO. That was just a drone. It's controlled remotely,” he says before he turns back to look at the sky and the direction of the maybe or maybe not UFO.
“Yeah, that's what they all say,” I mutter.
“Alright, here's the plan. I want you to stay here. Tucked as close to the tree as you can under its coverage. I’ll track down that drone so we can get some answers.”
“Oh, no, siree. Where you go, I go, Big Papa.” I say, already shaking my big hair. I worried the jog might flatten it, but it's holding up good and tight.
“Bunny, you have six-inch heels on, and I'm going to be trekking in and out of the woods.”
Oh, he did not just insinuate I can't walk anywhere in my sweet babies.
“I’ll have you know, mister, I can walk better in these six-inch heels than you can in those colorless, clompy, combat boots. So don't sit there and think you're leaving me behind. Get your knicker knockin' and lead the way,” I huff out indignantly.
No one insults me and my shoe choice. I am a woman of the South. We can do all things through God (and Stilettoes), who strengthens us.