Chapter 7: Filthy Crown: Chapter 6

“What was that about?” Matt peers at me while sneaking a piece of bacon.

“What do you mean?” I look at him as if he’s speaking a different language, unwilling to address the elephant in the room.

He shoots me a raised brow. “The whole ‘I’m just worried about what she’s putting in that mouth.”

Visions of my fat cock sliding in and out of Pen’s full lips slam into me, causing my knees to go weak and making them buckle.

Sucking in a ragged breath, I try to play it off. “I’m just taking this parenting role seriously. I didn’t ask to be their surrogate dad, but now that I have the job, I’ll be damned if I fail at it.”

Matt raises a brow. “And iced coffee has what role in this?”

“Seriously,” Jace chimes in, slapping me on the back. “The way you were going at her, it didn’t seem fatherly. It was more tyrannical than anything.”

Matt snorts. “If that’s what you want to call it. If I had to place a label on it, I’d say it was possessive with a touch of controlling.”

“Tyrannical. Fatherly. Aren’t they the same thing?” I quip, choosing to ignore Matt’s input and instead think back to how our dad was with us growing up.

“Yeah, if you want her to hate you.” Jace shudders. “You can thank Dad for my free spirit ways. Had he not been the hard ass he was, I think I would have ended up in a suit somewhere up in a high-rise.” He shakes his head before taking a sip of his coffee. “Hell, maybe you’re onto something with your harping.”

“Shit. I’m fucking this up already, aren’t I?” I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends.

“Hey, it’s not like you got years of parenting under your belt before having to deal with a teenager. Give yourself a break. You gained instant dad status to three kids with none of the experience or preparation that comes with it.” Matt’s words have the knot in my stomach loosening a bit.

“Just think. You can’t fuck ‘em up worse than what they saw in Mexico,” Jace contributes, his words making me cringe.

“Speaking of which, I’m glad the therapist is coming today. Amanda had a nightmare last night, Alex seems to be acting like nothing happened which isn’t normal, and Pen…” I trail off. There’s so much going on there I don’t even know where to start.

“I looked over the report.” Matt’s brows push together, his nostrils flaring. “It doesn’t look like they… touched her.”

“I saw that too.” I let out a low rumble, not even wanting to think of someone touching her that way. The thought makes my blood boil, and I’m not sure if the reasoning behind it is entirely paternal.

Jace’s brows shoot up. “That’s a little strange, right? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad they didn’t. More than glad. But Pen is a knockout, and she was held by a damn cartel. They aren’t exactly the pinnacle of morality.”

“Do you think she could’ve lied to the medics who checked her over?” Matt looks between Jace and me before landing on the kitchen entryway. “I’ve heard of victims not wanting to admit to it.”

A violent shudder shakes me where I stand, my hands gripping tightly onto the edge of the kitchen counter. “God, I pray that isn’t the case.” A cloud of red hazes my vision while scenes of me storming some cartel stronghold come to mind. I’m ripping off the balls of any man that touched her, even if it’s the last thing I do.

“Pray that what isn’t the case?” Pen looks between my brothers and me, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits as if she knows we were just talking about her.

My eyes take her in. She’s wearing a black spaghetti strap dress that hugs all of her curves, the hem hitting her mid thigh. As if the dress wasn’t tempting enough, tanned legs stem out and pour into combat style boots. The whole look is edgy yet soft.

I make a mental note to talk to Mary. What was she thinking, buying this type of clothing for her?

Like a freight train pulling the brakes too late, the wrong words pour out of me. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

She cocks her head back, her mouth parting slightly before she snaps it shut again.

“Jack?” Matt warns, his tone teasing.

My jaw clenches, unsure of what to say. I’m not backing off. The therapist is a man and I’ll be damned if I let him see her like this. “Stay out of this, Matt. I’m her guardian. I know what’s best, and that’s putting some more goddamn clothes on.”

“It’s okay Uncle Jace,” she answers him but shoots me a lethal glare as she saunters over to the table, picking up a flannel button-up I’d left there the night before. She puts it on over her dress, rolling up the sleeves and leaving it open in the front like an oversized cardigan. I approve of the additional clothes, but her next words rock me to my core.

“Jack is just being a good…” with a bat of her lashes and a lick of her lips, she releases the one word that has me practically coming in my pants, “Daddy.”

Fuck. Hearing that word fall from her pouty lips has blood flooding south, my cock hardening in an instant. Not good. This is not good.

Jace chokes on a piece of bacon while Matt smacks his back forcefully.

There’s no doubt in my mind she’s teasing me. Why? I have no fucking clue. But this shit can’t continue. I need to reign in my bodily reactions, and she needs to realize that I only want what’s best for her.

“Where are the kids, Pen?” My jaw ticks as I try to temper my emotions.

“Why? Going to scold them about their choice of apparel?” She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. But when she snaps them open, a blank look replaces the irritated one she’d just had moments ago. “I’m sorry. They’re in the playroom. Alex is reading a book and Amanda is watching a cartoon. I was coming in here to ask if you had a baby monitor. Yes, I know they’re older, but the house is big and they have been through so much. I’d like to keep an eye on them at all times if possible.”

Who the fuck is this woman and what did she do to teenager Pen? She just went from sassy teenager to responsible woman in two seconds flat.

I’m standing there blinking like a dumbass when Jace speaks up, “The house is wired in all of the main areas. You can login and see the cameras if you have access to a smartphone or tablet.”

Pen nods. “I think I can make that work. I lost my phone in Mexico, but I have the laptop Mary let me borrow, so I bet I can log in through there.”

Crap. Something else I’ve let fall through the cracks. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll get you a phone and your own laptop. You’ll need both for when you go off to college.”

Pen stills. “About that.” She nervously chews on her bottom lip, the action making me restless with need. Well, until her words hit me like an ice-cold bucket. “I’m not going to college.”

Oh, hell no. She’s got three months before she turns eighteen. Three months before the fall semester starts. And based on what the social worker told me, she’d been accepted into an ivy league school on a full ride. Not that she needs it. She’s getting her trust fund as soon as she’s of age.

That’s one thing Austin did right. Made sure the kids were set up financially if anything were to ever happen to him.

“And on that note, I’ll be heading out.” Jace stands, Matt following his lead. “This is a conversation for Daddy. You know, since you’re the guardian and you know best.”

The bastard has the balls to snicker as he picks out keys for one of the ranch trucks.

Matt sidles up to him. “If you don’t mind, brother. I think I’ll tag along. It’s been a minute since we’ve seen Hunter and I want to be there when he gets the news.”

The tension in the room evaporates, replaced with sadness. The reality of our situation is heavy, outweighing whatever parenting was about to take place. With a sigh, I look over at Penelope. “This conversation isn’t over. In the meantime, head to the playroom and take the laptop with you. I’ll come get you when the therapist arrives.”

Pen blinks, those ever-changing hazel eyes going glassy. “Are you dismissing me?”

“No, Princess.” The old term of endearment flows easily from my lips. “I just need to talk to the guys before they leave, and I’d also like to discuss a couple of things with the therapist before you all see him.”

She gives me a curt nod, but her expression is unreadable. Before I can ask if she’s okay, she’s waving goodbye to Matt and Jace, her long, dark hair swinging as she whips around and books it out of the kitchen.

Jace places his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t envy you, brother. Dealing with teenage attitude is no joke, but try to be a little less Stalin and a little more Gandhi.”

Matt’s eyes narrow. “Are you going to be okay, Jack?”

“Am I? I have no damn clue. But I owe it to the kids to try. I owe it to Austin and Blanca, too.” Rolling in my lips, I pinch them between my teeth.

“I’m talking about Pen’s flirty sass, brother.” Matt’s brows push together, the tension clear on his face. “I know you’d never cross that line with her. She’s a kid, for fuck’s sake. But anyone from the outside looking in could see it differently. She could end up getting you into trouble.”

What Matt’s saying makes sense, but the thought of Pen leaving this ranch has my blood running cold. “No. She stays here. Besides, she only has three months left until she’s eighteen and off to college.”

Jace gives me side eye. “So you’re going to pretend like she didn’t just straight up shoot that idea down?”

I stiffen at his words. “Like I said. I’m the guardian and I know what’s best. She’s going to college, and that’s that.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Jace bats his lashes in mock adoration, earning him a shove from Matt.

“Stop. He’s already getting shit from a damaged teenager. He doesn’t need it from you too.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Enough of that.” I pull a cupboard open, moving things around until I find what I need. “Here, take the satellite phones and call me after you’ve broken the news to Hunter. I’d like to talk to him too. Maybe get him to move down a little closer.”

“Ha! Fat chance of that happening.” Jace swipes the phones before he gives me a one-armed hug. “But there’s always hoping.”

Matt gets in on the hug action before we all break apart and I walk them to the door, feeling the need to warn them. “Stay safe, brothers. Lord knows this family can’t survive another tragedy.”

They both hum in agreement before trotting down the porch and toward the barn housing the trucks. Shifting my gaze toward the sky, I send out a silent prayer to the powers that be. For protection, patience, and a shit ton of willpower.