Daddy lowers the ice so that the front of the cloth is against my nostrils. “Why are you crying, Little pet?”
I shake my head, but the tears keep coming.
“Talk to me, Luna,” he commands.
The use of my given name startles me. I sniffle and meet his gaze before lowering my face to look at my lap and fidgeting my fingers. “You’re not going to let me move around at all now.” I sniffle. “You think I’ll get hurt if you give me any freedom. I’m sad.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he puts the ice back on my nose. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”
I shiver.
He glances at my arm and then chuckles. “How will I ever get those stains out of your clothes?”
“Do you have any hydrogen peroxide?”
He shifts his gaze to mine. “Yes. Why?”
“It will take the blood out,” I tell him.
“Really?”
“Yes. I can do it myself if you give me the peroxide. I’ll clean both our shirts.”
A smile grows on his face and stays there. I’m not sure why. “I’ve underestimated you, Luna.”
I swallow. He has. Over and over, but I don’t tell him that.
“I don’t want you to be upset. It breaks my heart when you cry. I want you to smile and giggle every day. Those sounds make me happy. I don’t want to do anything to make you unhappy.”
My heart beats faster. Maybe there’s hope here.
When I presume the fifteen minutes are up, Daddy stands, cradling me. He takes the ice to the kitchen and then heads for the bathroom. “Does your head hurt, Little pet?”
“No, Daddy.” My nose is sore, but I don’t have a headache.
“Your face is going to be tender for a few days. It might bruise.”
I hold my breath. If he tells me he’s not going to have sex with me because I fell, I might throw a tantrum. At least that way, I would end up naked over his lap. I’d rather get the spanking of a lifetime than have him treat me like porcelain.
Daddy bends over and turns on the water to fill the tub. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll share your surprises with you.”
This perks me up. There’s hope for tonight after all.
SIXTEEN
Daddy is so careful with me in the tub, and he lets me play while he works on getting the blood stains out of our clothes. I feel like I matter as I explain to him how to use the peroxide. He’s impressed, and I can’t stop smiling.
When he lifts me out of the tub, he sets me on my feet. For a moment, I can’t figure out what’s wrong with this picture. He kneels in front of me, keeps his hands on my waist, and holds my gaze.
It takes me a second to put weight on my legs and prove to us both that I can stand.
Daddy slowly smiles. “Yeah?”
I look down. I’m standing. I’m good. “Yes, Daddy,” I reply softly.
“Are you steady? My heart can’t take you falling and cracking your chin open on the edge of the tub or the floor.”
I reach out and grab the tub just to be sure. “I’m good.”
