“I like sleeping on the floor. It’s comforting.”
I swallowed around my nerves and stared into those big eyes again, nodding. “All right.”
“All right,” he repeated. Something about the worship in his gaze as he stared at me twisted up my insides, but it made sense. I was taking care of him until he could get on his feet. Right?
“Let’s put your dirty clothes in the washer with your blanket, then go get you some food.”
Anything to distract me from the beautiful man in front of me.
* * *
When I wokethe next morning I yawned and sat up in bed while stretching. The white curtains were open slightly, and the humidity of the day was already hanging in the air. As usual, a car horn blared outside and my neighbors a few houses down yelled. I didn’t live in a good area, but I was close to St. Michael’s and the poor that I helped. That was what mattered the most.
It took me a moment to realize Phoenix was on his knees next to the bed, head bowed, and I jumped in surprise. I stared at him, curiosity and confusion rolled into one big emotion that had me frowning at his curved body. I would’ve suspected he was in prayer, but he’d said he wasn’t religious, and his hands were on his knees, not held together in front of him.
“Phoenix?” I blinked, fatigue making my eyelids heavy. It always took me half an hour or more to wake up, and I was useless without my morning coffee. Caffeine became my addiction after I gave up alcohol, and I didn’t have the fortitude to give it up as well. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t move. “I’m here to serve you, Daddy.” His soft words were a sensual melody that filled my mind.
I straightened, confused. He stayed perfectly still, and my stomach plummeted. “What do you mean?”
“You want to protect me. You’re my Daddy.”
Ohfuck, I was in trouble. I’d gotten an obedient boy just by helping him.
3
PHOENIX
My entire bodyburned with shame as I stared at the floor and kept my fingers from wriggling. I straightened my spine and focused on not looking like I was too hopeful or begging for anything. My Daddy—no, Perry, he wasn’t really my Daddy now—had hated that.
I shook inside at the thought of changes this big. A new home. A new Daddy. Everything had been so terrible, but the same, for the last seven years. Just thinking Perry’s name made me feel sick because he would’ve been furious if he’d ever heard me use it. I wasn’t supposed to call him anything except Daddy. I’d tried as hard as I could to be good, and in the end, he’d sent me away. This felt serious and final. I would probably never see him again. Why would he come looking for me? No, he wasn’t going to be my Daddy anymore.
A thrill of familiar terror tore through my body as I conjured up the image of Perry towering over me when I’d angered him. Sweat broke out on my forehead and I pushed the thoughts away.
I’d presumed a lot by calling Father Gian my Daddy, which wasn’t my place, but I’d had plenty of time to think last night when I was wrapped up in my clean-smelling blanket with a soft fluffy pillow under my head. It had been so nice after being wet to be dry and warm. Father was just a different name for Daddy, right? He seemed like he cared for me a lot already. My new pajamas were comfy, and they were a nice gift, even if I had to give them back later.
So, yes, I was going to call Father Gian my Daddy.
But Daddy also hadn’t said anything about rules yet. More sweat rolled down my temples and I shivered. I’d been so excited he was finally awake. I’d woken up this morning when it was still dark outside, as usual. I was used to getting up early. I’d been tempted to go back to sleep because I was as comfortable as an egg in a nest, but I’d wanted to show my new Daddy how good I could be. Maybe I wasn’t perfect, but I needed him to be happy with me. I would try hard.
My fingers dug into my legs the longer the silence in the room dragged on. I curled closer to the floor and thought about resting my forehead on it. I could stay in that position a long time. Maybe he needed me to beg him to be my Daddy? He wanted to keep me safe, like a good Daddy, so why couldn’t he be my Daddy?
Guilt ate at me. Maybe I’d done all the wrong stuff. Maybe he was secretly angry and thinking of a punishment. My stomach curdled and I shuddered. First thing, I’d gotten up and started quietly cleaning the house. I’d done the bathroom, which was small and simple, but I liked the way the gray tiles gleamed. I did everything I could think of that didn’t require me to make noise. I’d found the cleaning products in a closet outside the bathroom. There was furniture polish and rags and I’d used them. A broom had been leaning in a corner in the kitchen with the dustpan attached. I’d swept and wiped down counters.
As the time got later and later—there was an old cherrywood grandfather clock in the living room that didn’t chime for some reason—I began to worry. I didn’t know when I needed to wake up my new Daddy for the day. At 7:30 a.m. I began to make breakfast for him from the food I found in the kitchen. I’d started the coffeemaker, too, which had already been set up the night before.
Then, I’d come in to wait.
Daddy chuckled and the happy sound made pleasant tingles race around my body. My muscles untensed enough that I could sit up without feeling ill.
“You’re confused, or maybe I am. Who knows?” I snuck a peek at him. His short dark hair was everywhere from sleeping and made me want to smile. He covered a yawn with his hand. “Ugh. I need to get coffee, and then I’ll be able to tell which end of the world is up.” He grinned at me.
My blood froze in my veins and I felt welded to the spot. Did he want me to have his coffee in hand as soon as he woke up? He hadn’t said that to me before we went to bed, but then again, maybe he expected me to already know what he wanted. My heart took off and hammered, thudding in my ears.
I was frequently punished for not knowing things I should already know.
“Sorry, Daddy.” I scrambled toward the bedroom door, not truly getting to my feet until I was halfway there. I rushed out into the kitchen and panicked as I stood there staring, but there were only two cupboards, and I opened the top one over the counter near the sink, letting out a breath of relief as I snatched a blue mug down. With every second feeling like a thousand years, I poured the coffee, and holding my breath, I walked the mug into the bedroom. I bit the inside of my cheek as I handed the mug off to Daddy and fell to my knees again, hoping I’d made it right. He’d swung his feet to the floor and sat there on the edge of the bed, blinking in a sweet way toward the sunlight streaming into the room. The crease in his chin stood out more when he smiled at the mug.
