Chapter 3 #3
There were no private beaches in Hawai‘i, but the land here might as well be. With the cliff at our backs and the crescent landscape, it was like our own little slice of paradise. Since Caroline and Samantha had moved into Bacon’s house with me, the rules had changed.
No sex in open spaces inside or outside the house.
Any explicit activity was now restricted to the barn, where Aloiki’s new porn studio was.
Since none of the brothers had moved out of Bacon’s house, even after construction finished, the rooms that had been designed to be for the brothers were now different scenes for recording.
Like a teacher’s desk or a fuck chair with thrusting dildo or a kitchen setup or a church altar or a laundry room for stuck fucks…
Everything was removable so the rooms could be switched around and reused as needed.
Club Cunts and Prospects were restricted to sleeping in the barn.
While Prospects were allowed up to Bacon’s house during the day, Club Cunts were not.
To make things even more trying for the Prospects, they weren’t allowed to sleep with the Club Cunts.
The twins, who had lived in the barn since being hired by Aloiki years ago, had returned to their old room in the loft now that construction was done, so they also kept an eye on the Prospects to ensure that none broke the no-fuck rule.
If any of the couples wanted to use the beach for some private time now, they had to ensure that neither Samantha nor Caroline were anywhere around.
It was the same when I took the girls to the barn to see the horses; I had to do it at a time when no porn shoots were scheduled.
Life with a four-year-old and a seventeen-year-old around was certainly different, but I truly wouldn’t have it any other way.
Additionally, everyone was going to have to get used to having a baby around once Lu popped.
I wasn’t the only one who was working to curb my language more.
Aloiki wasn’t going to change for anyone, and often laughed that his son’s first word was going to be “fuck”.
Lu, however, had adopted quite the mom look recently, and she was the first to scold one of us for letting an F-bomb fly.
I thought it a bit hypocritical that Aloiki offered to punish us for her but wouldn’t change his own language.
I’d learned to be quick to cover up Samantha’s ears when Aloiki was around.
Samantha was… Well, she was incredible. Once she realized she wasn’t going to get in trouble for speaking up, or for making any sounds really, it was hard getting her to be silent.
And I fucking loved it. Caroline often had to translate, as my Japanese sucked and Samantha’s English was broken, but it was inspiring, seeing the world through her innocent eyes.
I’d forgotten. I hadn’t looked for joy since that paternity test had been handed to me. But watching Samantha’s face light up for something as simple as bubbles made me realize just how dark my world had become in recent years.
After our tea party had been interrupted before, I promised both Samantha and Caroline that I would take them to the beach when I got back.
Neither of them knew how to swim, and while I was teaching them, they were not ready to be down at the water without me yet.
The club knew this, and they kept an eye on them too.
For seventeen, Caroline was very responsible.
Personally, I wanted to see her break free of her shell, do something crazy or act like a rebellious teenager.
I got that she was a mom, genetically or not, and had a responsibility to Samantha, but I desperately wanted to see her carelessly happy too.
Until then, I didn’t have to worry about Caroline disobeying one of the safety rules—the only rules I had put in place for them.
I never wanted either Samantha or Caroline to ever compare me to Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV.
Education was still something we were going to have to discuss, but honestly, there were more important things in life than learning. Emotionally and physically, Caroline was not ready to attend any public school.
The two of us sat on the sand, a single towel beneath us, as we watched Samantha, barefoot and wearing a bathing suit, run back and forth with the electronic bubble maker wand I’d bought her.
Caroline was wearing a one-piece suit and a sarong.
She wasn’t comfortable showing off any more of her body than that, which was perfectly fine by me.
I might be attracted to her, but I wasn’t a total monster.
I would never push her to wear or do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.
The dying sunlight caught her brunette hair, which was actually naturally curly, and showed off her lighter highlights. More than making her dress in traditional Japanese clothing, she’d also been forced to keep her hair straight for years.
Caroline brought her legs up to her chest, crossing her ankles in front of herself. Her body was filling out, and I felt like such a dick every time I noticed.
“Can I ask you a question?”
After a month, I was an expert on watching her out of the corner of my eye.
I rarely allowed myself to look at her unless she was speaking directly to me.
Was this how a sober alcoholic felt when they smelled the tang of whiskey?
It never touched their lips, but there was no way the temptation wasn’t pounding at their soul at just the smell.
My mouth salivated as our eyes met. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to look at her today. She grew even more radiant with each passing day.
“Always.” I tried to keep my voice calm, reassuring. She could never know how my heart raced at just the sound of her voice.
“I was hoping you’d allow me to go to the store.”
I said nothing, only raised a pointed eyebrow at her. This was my way of scolding her speech without actually scolding her. I waited patiently for her to figure out what she’d said and gave her a chance to rephrase.
And I did not do it just to see that flush cross her cheeks. I truly wanted her to think for herself, not in terms of what the “man of the house” allowed her to do.
Caroline had confided in me that she was allowed to watch television and read books.
After she cleaned the house to his satisfaction or prepared a particularly good meal, she was rewarded.
Her eyes even lit up when she told me about it, like she wanted me to be proud of her for having served her captor well enough to have gotten a reward.
Despite my reservations about the use of that word, it took me some time to get out of her what type of rewards. Obviously she wasn’t watching just any television if she’d never seen a cellphone before, and it soon became clear why the hero she’d compared me to in that basement had been John Wayne.
I was no psychologist, and even I picked up on the fact that Caroline was only allowed to watch television or read books with a certain indoctrinated mindset.
The “man of the family” and the “head of the household” mindset, where the man brought home the money and the woman knew her place.
I never asked her, but it was my suspicion that Jones was grooming Caroline to be his next wife.
Neo could not find any record of the wife outside of her name on their marriage certificate, so discovering where she was or how she died was basically impossible.
Caroline licked her glossy lips and rephrased her statement. “I would like to go to the store, and I was hoping you could take me.”
I smiled at her. “I’d love to,” I replied, not drawing attention to her slipup. “What are you going shopping for?”
She rested her cheek on her knees as she continued to look over at me. “I agree that I don’t know if I like cooking. I’m good at it, but I’m not sure I like it. But there is something that I used to do that I know I do miss.”
I stared at her curiously. “What’s that?”
“Knitting. I used to do it before Samantha was born, but Mr. Dal—” Her cheeks flamed.
“I mean, that bastard”—I smiled at her correction.
Apparently I hadn’t cleaned up my language that much since she’d picked up on calling Jones that when Samantha wasn’t within earshot.
I ignored how her eyes flicked about like she was worried Jones would suddenly appear and punish her.
She’d get over that gut reaction in time.
—“took away my needles when one of the other women stole one and tried to use it to stab him.”
Too bad she hadn’t succeeded.
“And you like knitting? This isn’t something you want to do because you feel you should be doing it?” I didn’t think so, but I wouldn’t be doing my due diligence by her if I didn’t double check.
Caroline nodded, a smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes. It used to calm me.”
“Then let’s go.”
Her eyes widened and she bolted upright. “What? Now?”
“Sure, why not?” I got to my feet, brushing the sand from my torso. I’d helped Samantha build a sandcastle a little bit ago, and more than one handful of sand had been playfully tossed.
I held my hand down to her.
She stared up at me, her mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “But… I mean, it’s been so many years. What if I’m not good anymore? What if I don’t remember how?”
“Then we look up beginner videos online, and we learn.” I still held my hand out to her.
Caroline’s sea-green eyes blazed with uncertainty, but she reached for me, and fucking hell, that meant something to me. More than she’d ever know. Her trust in me meant everything, and I would never do anything to betray it.
“You would learn with me?” she asked once I pulled her to her feet.