The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One

by Breanna Hayse

  “I made you look like a jellyfish,” his friend sounded sad.

  “Good, then maybe she’ll think twice before messing with either of us,” Scott smiled. He patted his brother-in-law’s hand. “Believe me, buddy, you’ve done no damage. We already know she can psychologically handle this, and that little body has been through so much more than a bruised backside. The difference is the humiliation and submission factor. She needs to be able to fear your disappointment as much as she needs to trust you. I know how you feel. I’ve been there on many occasions. Think of it like training our boys for war. It’s better we are tough on them in boot camp so they are prepared. It could save their lives.”

  “But she’s just a child….”

  “She’s a young adult with adult responsibilities and a very unique situation. I think your issue is not her age, but her gender. I will remind you that your little girl helped kick the shit out of us in the ring,” Scott shot a glance at his nephew. “Do not repeat that statement to anyone, young man.”

  Michael tried to hide the slight smirk on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Uncle Scott.”

  “Mike? Do you have an opinion here? I’d like to hear it,” his father asked.

  Michael considered his response. “I’m caught in the middle. I agree with both of you completely, and I think Scott has a point. Still, I struggle with wanting to protect her from harm, even to her backside. To be honest, and I know this is a sore spot, but if we were ever captured,” he looked at his father carefully—that was his primary fear—“she would not be concerned about her own pain. The worse thing for her is if they harmed me. That’s why she risked her life when I was seized. So, unless you are planning on punishing me to get through to her, I see no other course than the one you are taking.”

  “You are one smart kid,” Scott said, watching Michael blush.

  Dr. Quimby nodded. “Smarter than we are. Ok, we continue with our direction. Who wants to check on her?”

  “I will. I want to see how I now look like a jellyfish,” Scott grinned, standing. He walked up to the officer’s deck and down to the commanding officer staterooms. Chuckling, he admitted it would be good to be home with normal sized accommodations and the ability to walk around the house in his skivvies if he wanted to. Without knocking, he entered Dr. Quimby’s quarters and headed back to the bedroom.

  Sam was still sleeping on her stomach, her hair tangled in her face and still a bit puffy around the eyes. He gently stroked the long tresses, tucking them behind her ear. In her sleep, she looked like she was only 10, her delicate features softened and her smart mouth not running. She moved, whimpering, at his touch. He lifted the blankets to look at the damage and bit his lower lip as he touched the angry welts.

  “My poor princess, Daddy really did make me look like a jellyfish this time. Please, please, learn your lesson so we don’t have to keep doing this,” he whispered, covering her and leaning over to kiss her temple. Her eyes fluttered opened. “Hey baby, just came in to check on you.” He handed her the bottle of water.

  She tried to sit up without success. “Uncle Scott, I really pushed him this time. He was worse than you.” She sounded sad.

  Scott’s voice soft and soothing as he touched her face. “I saw. Want to talk?”

  “Not yet. I just need cuddles.” Scott stretched out next to her on the bed and pulled her against his chest with his arms around her shoulders and his lips on top of her head. He was careful to protect her bruised posterior. After a few minutes, they started talking in very soft tones. Sam, listening to his heartbeat, had almost forgotten that her demonstrative uncle had such a soft, tender side. It shamed her, being so afraid of him. She admitted her guilt and received a gentle hug.

  “You know you can always come to us if you have a problem or are being tempted to do something you know you shouldn’t. Neither Dad nor I are quick to judge. You know that.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry with me. I fucked up bad.”

  Scott stiffened at her choice of words. They were not said out of disrespect, but out of truth. She hadn’t even noticed. He decided to overlook it. “Yes, you did. You not only put yourself in a very unprofessional position, but your crew in danger as well. Like usual, you weren’t thinking.”

  “No, Sir. Will he ever forgive me?” She sounded tiny and frightened.

  Scott frowned, looking down at her. “My sweetness, what do you think? That is one reason we engage in corporal punishment. It lets you know you paid the price and have been forgiven. Why? Are you still feeling guilty after all this?”

  Hesitating, she nodded, and stated her guilt swayed more towards how she treated her brother.

  Scott hummed, thinking. “Yes, I can understand that. How about you wait until we get home and get settled, then you can talk with Mike privately about easing your guilt. I’m sure he’d be open to discuss it.”

  “Yes, Sir. Will you give him a head’s up?”

  “By all means. I want you to heal a bit before you take on another ass-whipping,” he grinned, squeezing her tight.

  She sighed. “Me too, Uncle Scott, me too.”

  ***

  “It is so good to be home,” Dr. Quimby sighed as he tossed his duffle bag down in the foyer and plopped onto the huge leather couch in the sunken in living room.

  Scott joined him, collapsing into his favorite recliner. “It’s been forever. A real TV….”

  “How about real food, I’m starving,” Michael announced, sitting on his father’s stomach.

  Growling, Dr. Quimby pushed him off and wrestled his son to the floor. Smiling, Scott and his niece moved the furniture out of the way. Yes, they were home. After 15 minutes of rough housing, father and son resumed their positions on the couch. Dr. Quimby pulled his daughter carefully onto his lap. It had only been three days, and she still was unable to sit comfortably or sleep well.

  “Food then. What do you want?”

  “Pizza!” The unanimous vote was in.

  “Pizza it is.” He called in the delivery and stared at the phone in his hand. “I almost forgot how to use a real telephone. Has it been that long?”

  “Nine months at sea. It looks like they did a good job on keeping the house up,” Scott said, walking to the back wall and opening the long curtains. The glass sparkled in the mid-day sun, letting light into the room. He opened the French doors, feeling the salt air blow in. “Mmmm, never get tired of the smell of the sea. Hey, Sam, come look!”

  She joined her uncle on the high deck that overlooked the cliff and deep bay. Ton was rolling in the waves of their private enclosure. He was happy to be home too. Sam looked at her uncle with pleading eyes and he sighed. “Fine with me, but check with Dad.”

  “One hour, then home, okay,” Dr. Quimby said as she begged permission to swim. “Wetsuit.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thanks!” she smiled, picking up her duffle bag and slowly starting up the stairs to her bedroom.

  Michael hopped up to help her, grabbing both of their bags. “Want some company?” he asked, pulling out her suit.

  “Yes, please. Um, did Uncle Scott talk with you?”

  “About what?” her brother asked, from his room across the hall.

  “Me. I still feel bad about how I treated you, especially in front of the men.”

  “Yes, he spoke with me about it. Do you have something on your mind?” Michael asked, entering her room, dressed in his wetsuit.

  “I’m really sorry for it. Please forgive me.” She wrapped her arms around his rock hard waist.

  Amused, her brother hugged her back. He was going to make her ask. “Of course I forgive you. Let’s get in the water.”

  Sam stared at his broad back as he exited the room. Didn’t the dork get it? Hmm, guess not. Well, she wasn’t quite up to receiving anymore bruises yet, she was still way too tender. The two walked onto the deck and, with a wave good-bye, dove over into the deep inclusion that had been dug to house submersibles. Dr. Quimby held his breath. He hated when the
y did that although he knew it was as safe as a cliff dive could be. They sliced the water cleanly and propelled to the kelp beds with Ton following happily. Fitted with neurobands, they paused to ‘feel’ the area.

  Word was quickly spreading that the land walkers had returned. A pod of dolphin approached them, jumping, squealing and splashing happily. Confusion was communicated with the girl (a storm, dark water) and she unsuccessfully explained what had occurred to alter her body. Ton intervened with an image of a beached whale that returned to sea.

  “Interesting. He views your accident as an illness,” Michael commented, catching the pictures. “No wonder he is so protective of you.”

  “More cultural diversity to study, huh? Even more interesting is that they were able to sense it.” His sister smiled, accepting a ‘gift’ from one of the dolphins—a Bonita. It knew she was hungry. Without hesitation, she bit into the fish before sharing it with the pod. Pleased with her courtesy, the pod dispersed.

  Her brother, however, was disgusted. “That was gross. How could you?”

  “We eat sushi, right? What’s the difference? It was an offering of acceptance and welcome. To do anything else would be rude. Besides, I am hungry. Let’s go home.”

  Two extra-large pizzas disappeared in minutes. Scott wrinkled his nose at the smell of fish, and Michael shared how his sister responded to the pod’s gift. Making a gagging sound, Scott ordered them to clean up and get their gear in order. Both quickly obeyed.

  “How long are you thinking of taking for leave?” Dr. Quimby asked, picking up his gear before heading up to his room.

  Scott shrugged. “A month. Maybe I should just retire. Stay on as a civilian. You?”

  “A month sounds good. I think it would be good to reacquaint us as a family. Let’s process it for the kids too.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I am gonna hit a long, hot shower then take a nap in a real bed,” Scott announced, turning towards his room downstairs.

  Sam leaned back against the headboard of her soft, queen sized bed. It felt so good to be home. Her picture windows overlooking the ocean were wide open and a breeze permeated the room. The sun shimmered brightly, highlighting the gold tint in the walls and making the golden oak furnishings glow. The bed even felt good against her still sore bottom. She thought about her actions—never would that be repeated again.

  Michael entered without knocking, plopping on her bed. “Whatcha doing?” he asked, poking her leg.

  She eyed him. “Trying to relax. I see being off ship is putting you in a good mood.”

  “Sis, you have no idea. It’s so hard to be the one in charge all the time. I want to mess around too, but never can. Sometimes,” he turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling, “I wish I could be a kid again. “

  “Daddy always brings that out in you when you two play,” his sister responded, rubbing his side with her foot. “I love watching you guys mess around, it’s so cute.”

  “It’s fun. I’m just so tired. It’s been a tough tour. We’ve been through a lot.”

  “I didn’t make it any easier for you, either. Listen, Mike, we need to talk. I’m really so sorry about how I acted with you, especially in front of the guys. I know they thought it was funny, but you didn’t and I should have respected you and your wishes. I’m not healed yet, but when I am, you really owe me a serious spanking.”

  There. She had said it.

  He nodded in agreement, his intense blue eyes making contact with her smoldering blue-grey ones. “Yes I do. And you will get one. But right now, you need to recover and I need some down time without extra responsibility. Do you think you can keep out of trouble for another week?”

  “That’s my plan,” she quietly responded.

  Michael closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of fresh coastal air. “Then let’s make a tentative date to discuss this next Friday. Dad and Scott will probably go to the O- Club and we will be home alone.”

  “Yes, Michael.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sure enough, as he predicted, the two older men announced their plans to meet with friends at the O-club up at Camp Pendleton. They would be back late and left with instructions to stay out of trouble. Michael caught Scott’s eye.

  “Be careful, son. She’s paid the price.”

  “This is strictly to relieve her of guilt. Don’t worry.” Michael assured him. After walking their parents to the car, the two younger Quimby’s went onto the back deck. “It feels like we’ve been gone forever. Would you believe my legs are still wobbling like I was still on ship?” Michael said, leaning over the rail.

  “Mine too. What do you want for dinner tonight? Daddy left us money.”

  “What I want is to take care of this uncomfortable situation between us. Sis, I know you feel guilty, but you’ve paid your dues. You owe me nothing, so stop being so damn cooperative.”

  “What do you mean? I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, too good. You even cleaned your room without being told. That is not like you.”

  “I’m just trying to behave the way I’m expected to, that’s all.”

  “Samantha, of all people in this world, I know you best. Look at me,” he said sternly, raising her chin to meet his eyes. He sat down, keeping her standing in front of him. It was easier to have eye contact that way. “I can sense it in you… the turmoil, and the conflict. It’s weird, but somehow it’s like I’ve neuronetted you. Haven’t you ever wondered how I always knew you were lying? Or hiding something? Or tuning me out?”

  “I never really thought about it.”

  “It’s because of you that I designed the band. I know you sense similar things with me. I can see it. So just be truthful, ok? Stop trying to hide your thoughts from me. Out with it.”

  “You won’t understand Mike. I feel like I need to earn your respect and make you proud of me. You’re so perfect and I’m just a brat with a bad attitude. Daddy and Scott think you do no wrong and I do everything wrong.” She tried not to let her eyes tear as she confessed her insecurities.

  Michael listened thoughtfully and reached for her hands. “Let me be clear on one thing. I do understand. You are the best sister I could ever hope for and I wouldn’t change one thing about you. I am very proud of you and respect you as my sister, a person and a partner. I love your stubbornness, your flair for life, your reckless abandon and your mind. I also love your heart. You don’t need to change. You just need to find some balance. For the most part, the things we get on you for are not because they are bad, but because of how you apply or approach them. Our goal is not to break your spirit, but to polish you.” He kissed the back of her hands. “I’m not much different, baby. I’ve just learned how to exercise self-control and choose my words and actions more appropriately. Don’t think for a minute that I’m not mentally cussing up a storm or imagining every means of defiance at times. I just choose to approach the issue properly. Its choices, that’s all.”

  “I still need you to ... punish me, Michael,” she whispered. “It’s the only way I truly know you have forgiven me.”

  “I will oblige your request, my sweet angel, but not until after dinner. Let’s go somewhere nice.”

  It had been months since she donned in a dress with makeup and heels. The whole ensemble felt strange to her. Michael whistled in admiration, twirling her before him. “Wow, you have legs!” he complimented, eyeing the short skirt and her long, tanned legs.

  “You clean up nicely yourself, brother. I swear, I’ll bitch slap any girl who tries to pick you up tonight. I want time alone with you as a human being, not a lab rat.”

  He held the car door for her, a brand new beautiful silver Jaguar with gray leather interior that had been given to him as a gift for finishing his Ph.D. She entered gracefully, buckling up as he joined her.

  “Hey! The twins are back from their cruise!” A waiter announced as they entered their favorite restaurant in downtown La Jolla.

  Michael shook his head with a chuckle. The term of ende
arment had been assigned to them years ago. Not just because there was no mistaking them to be siblings, but because they were always together. The servers gathered around them, asking about the trip and trying to update information, including attempts to retrieve his little sister’s phone number. She had truly blossomed over the last year.

  “Gentlemen,” Michael said warmly, “I don’t mean to be rude, but we just got back and we really are dying for some real food. The ship’s cook could barely make toast.”

  Laughing, and with light hearted apologies, their orders were taken, leaving the two to talk privately.

  “You better not let Cook ever hear you say that,” his sister giggled.

  “Have you ever tried his toast? Here,” he said, pouring her some tea.

  “Did you hear that Daddy put us on extended leave for a month? I’m gonna go stir crazy without anything to do.”

  “I’m sure he has plans for the family. It will be good for you to relax. You work too hard.”

  “Except when I’m playing,” she said. “I’d love to take a coastal swim. Do you think he’d let me?”

  “I doubt it, even if I offered to go along. Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because I’ve never done it. It would also give me a chance to chart.”

  “Work.”

  “Not really, I mean,” she caught his expression and made a face, “Yeah, work.”

  “How about we go up to Pendleton and do a few days on the range and course? You always like doing that.”

  “Just to play? Okay. Mike?”

  “What, kiddo?” he smiled as the waiter brought their food.

  Sam blushed. “I missed you.”

  “What do you mean? We’ve been together 24/7 for the last 9 months, give or take.”

  “I missed you just being my brother and my friend. Ship duty was hard on you with me around.”

  “I’ll always be your brother, best friend and protector. We might not always have the freedom to be just us, but let’s grab it when we can.”