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Sweat drips down my forehead. The dog doesn’t listen to me. I can’t even get mad at him, because he’s only doing his job. He’s protecting my woman and her family. “God damn it,” I say. I know absolutely zero German. Couldn’t it have been Russian? I know a few phrases thanks to Scotty.
“Sammy!” I scream. “Samira!”Where the fuck is she?
“Should we say it?” Sammy Junior asks, a wild glint in her eyes.
She steps back, smirking at her little brother. God, she’s serious. She’s going to demand the dog to attack me. “Bite,” she croons. “Brucey boy, come on. You can do it.”
“Max,” I say, forcing a smile so I don’t come off like a dickhead. “Come on, bud. I’m a friend of your moms. Don’t you remember?”
Her mouth screws into a pout. “Oh right. I have to tell him tobitein German.”
She opens her mouth. She’s going to say it, I have no doubt, and the devious little grin she wears only cements the thought.
“What in the world?”
My head snaps toward her voice. Sammy approaches, a black satin robe wrapped tightly with a ribbon around her waist. Her hair is pulled into a loose bun at the top of her head. “Bruce,platz.”
He moves to lie down, and I let out a sigh of relief, uncovering my balls now that the threat is gone. She’s beside me now, her fingers wrapping around mine and tugging me to the ground.
“Declan, what are you doing here?”
“Judging by his free-ball status, he’s here to get laid,” Sammy Junior mumbles.
Momma Bear snaps her gaze toward her daughter. “What?”
“He assaulted my eyeballs! I need bleach, stat.”
Oh, Jesus Fuck.“It was an accident,” I say through gritted teeth.
“It was an accident that you flashed me with your old man balls?” She crosses her arms, one humorous brow drawn. “Mom, your boyfriend is a perve.”
“Okay, first, he’s not my boyfriend. And second, why were you looking up his pants?” She whips her head toward me. “And why are you not wearing underwear? That’s gross.”
That’s what she acknowledges?
I open my mouth to respond, but stop when I hear a soft sniffle behind me.
“Mommy?” Max whispers, tears in his eyes. “I can’t find Violet.”
“Fuck,” Sammy mutters under her breath. She plasters a smile on her face. “I’m sure she’s around. Let’s look.”
“Violet?” I ask.
“No, Nuts McGee. You’re leaving,” Sammy’s spawn says.
“Em!” Sammy shouts. “Violet is his chicken. He brought her home with him from my parents.”
Em lets out a belly busting laugh. “Hate to break it to you, bud, but there’s chicken shit all over the counter, yet no bird in sight. Batman probably ate the fuck out of that thing.”
“Language!” Sammy points a finger at Em, mom voice in place as she heads for Em.
Max’s bottom lip quivers before more tears spill out, and I stand frozen, unsure what to do.
Sammy rushes for her son. He’s too big for her to scoop up and carry, yet small enough that she drops to her knees and cups his face against her chest.
“Em is just trying to upset you, sweetie. I’m sure Violet is fine. She’s probably just spooked, is all.” Her hand rubs soothing circles over his back. “You can kiss your weekend trip with Amanda’s family goodbye.” Her voice hardens when she addresses Em.
“That’s not fair.”
