Page 24 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

If I were to tell you that my mind is racing, I don’t think it would do justice to what’s actually going on inside me right now.

Cadence never came online last night.

And today? I don’t know if I’m gaslighting myself or if it’s true but… I think she’s avoiding me.

Cadence. My babygirl. My sweet thing. Daddy’s fucking plaything. The woman who knows more about me than my best friends, thanks to three full months of chatting for hours every damn day.

Cadence is fucking avoiding me?

After an impromptu lunchtime training session with Tanner Colt, I’m headed back to my office to sulk and stew when I pass Leah’s office, and overhear something that catches my focus.

Leah shouting.

She seriously rarely ever shouts. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her even close to mad enough to raise her voice, much less actually do it.

“They’ve been recording grades in a physical gradebook,” she says so sternly that goosebumps appear on my forearms. Her hands on hips, the IT guy in front of her, she adds, “It’s not 1991, Paul.

Okay? They don’t need to waste any more of their time working out of a book and using their home PCs for work. It’s unacceptable!”

“I know, we—” the IT guy doesn’t stand a chance. The vein in Leah’s forehead is throbbing to the beat of her impatient rage, the cry of all tired office folk everywhere when the IT guy just isn’t ITing.

“They have not been able to log into their district emails for three months, Paul. Three months of not knowing if a student has reached out with an issue, if an unhappy parent is being left unread, nothing.” She shakes her head, then brings one of her palms to her forehead, rubbing. “Tell me you have a solution now .”

The IT guy, whose name is apparently Paul, nods his head vigorously.

“The replacement laptops are coming next week, I have tracking on them and everything, I promise, Ms. Miller.” He swipes one palm on his thigh, nervously shifting his weight.

“And we’re rolling out two-factor authentication to defend against the county portal and intranet being accessible in the future.

If this happens again, they will be unusable.

” He slices an arm through the air, then nudges his glasses up his nose.

“They will not be able to unlock them.” Paul stands a bit taller after delivering this bit of information, and I come to linger in the doorway, assessing the whole thing.

Paul looks confident as he glances my way, then back to Leah.

Leah’s eyes come to mine, looking thoroughly annoyed.

My brows lift. “A district laptop was stolen?” I point to the floor, surprised. “ Here ?”

She nods. “Two of them.” Leah levels a seriously angry glare at Paul.

“Three months ago. These teachers have been without their laptops, their digital grade books, their email, all of it for three full months.” She tips her head to the side.

“If they are not here next week, like you said, we’re going to have to sit down and discuss your role going forward. ”

Paul nods and ducks out. When he brushes past me, his forehead is drenched in sweat and his pupils are large.

I hook a thumb over my shoulder, in the direction which he bolted. “He looked scared.”

Leah plops down in her desk chair, brushing her hair off her shoulder. “God that took effort. I hate being mean principal.”

I snort. “Liar.”

She looks up at me. “Fine. It’s fun. Sometimes.” She clicks on her computer and the screen illuminates her face. Clearly reading something while still speaking to me, she distractedly says, “but this time my anger wasn’t fun. Those teachers need their devices.”

About to walk away, the curiosity in me rises. “Who got their laptops stolen, anyway?”

Still reading, still focused on her screen, Leah slowly and disconnectedly says, “Ron Ellis and Cadence Caine.”

A bomb detonates inside my head, and a plume of smoke fills around my brain, rendering me lost and confused, and blinded for a terrifying moment. My heart takes a moment to slow down.

Cadence had her district laptop stolen three months ago?

I lick my lips, and try to steady my voice so it doesn’t give way to my shocked, confused state. “So they don’t have access to the district intranet at all? The portal? They can’t access it from their home PCs?”

Leah looks up at me, clearly annoyed to take herself away from the screen.

“No, West. The intranet is for their district device only. We decided not to allow the service to be remotely logged into from home devices for the privacy of the teachers. We don’t want any connection to their home devices and what might be on them. ”

I swallow around the knot of horror and shock that has appeared in my throat in the last five seconds. Hoarsely, despite knowing the answer, still, I ask, “So Ron and Cadence have not had access to Team Chat or the Warriorville County intranet or portal or whatever the fuck?”

Leah blinks at me a few times, irritation coloring her cheeks red. “No, West. No laptop, no intranet. No district portal. Period.”

Thank fuck Leah is engrossed in something, because she doesn’t look my way again, allowing me to slip out of her office, then into mine. Locking the door, I catch my reflection in the small mirror on the wall.

I look like a damn ghost.

If Cadence hasn’t had access to her device in three months…

Right around the time she and I started chatting on Veiled .

She and I?

There is no she and I, because DaddysGirl isn’t Cadence Caine.

She can’t be .

Not if Cadence didn’t have her device.

The images I sent roll through my mind and I nearly get sick, knowing I sent my cum and my cock to a stranger.

Who the fuck is playing with my head like this?

But DaddysGirl . I like her so much. Like, if this were 15 years ago, I’d be burning her a CD and taking her out to get a Frappucino before we see American Pie . She gives me stomach flutters and makes me think of my future using words like “together” and “family.”

Hell, I’m falling in love with her.

But apparently it’s all been a lie.

A question slides into my mind, curling around my brain, swallowing up all other thoughts and feelings, leaving me to circle it repeatedly as confusion and disbelief twist painfully around my heart.

Who the fuck is DaddysGirl?

No one fucks with my head and plays with my heart.

After Pris, I promised myself I’d have control of my next relationship, that I wouldn’t let another partner make me feel lesser than, make a joke out of me, make me feel like shit. No goddamn way. Not again.

Falling for her or not, I am going to find out who DaddysGirl really is.

And then I’m going to make her fucking pay.