I leave the bar and head for Daddy's office. Knocking softly, I wait for his voice.
"Yes?"
Opening the door, I peek inside first before stepping in. Daddy's face lights up when he sees me, and I can't help smiling back. A real smile. Something I didn't think was possible with the way my brain's been acting lately.
"Are you busy?"
"No, boy. Come here."
He opens his arms, and I hurry into his embrace. I settle in his lap, and the second his hands wrap around me, I sigh. This is what I needed.
Always my Daddy.
"What's wrong, boy? And don't say nothing. We've talked about this. I'm your Daddy, and you can tell me anything."
I hesitate, because even I don't know how to explain it.
"Let me take care of you," Daddy says.
It breaks the last of my defenses, and I melt against him.
"Something's wrong. I just don't know what." I take my time to sort through the complex thoughts and emotions. "Ever since I told you what happened to me, I've felt… off."
"Can you describe it to me?"
"It's not the usual darkness. It's different. It feels hollow. I feel hollow and kind of hopeless and empty."
Daddy plays with my hair, slow and gentle, his touch soothing.
"I feel broken," I confess.
"You're not broken. You're not." He kisses my forehead softly. "And even if you were, I'd hold every shattered piece of you."
"You'd really do that for me?"
He tilts my chin up until our eyes meet, "I'd do anything for you."
"I don't know what to do to fill this hollowness inside."
"I have an idea. Do you trust me?"
"I do," I say immediately.
Daddy opens one of his desk drawers and takes out two boxes. One small rectangular, the other larger and square. Both are black and elegant. I wonder what's inside.
I don't have to wonder for long.
Daddy opens the smaller box, and my breath catches. Nestled in black silk lies a scalpel. My pulse spikes, and I look at Daddy for answers.
"From now on," he says, voice deep and commanding, "you'll listen, and do exactly as I say."
Oh, Daddy's using his Daddy voice.
If I weren't already sitting, my knees would've given out.
I nod, mesmerized by the heat in his eyes.
"I want you to take the scalpel, look at the lines on your right arm, and then make an identical one on my right arm."
