“Are you proud of me, Daddy?”
He chucked my chin. “I sure am. Daddy’s already set up the meeting. I’ll be right here waiting for you to finish.”
I swallowed and nodded.
“You’re not nervous, are you?”
“A little.”
“No need to be nervous, my love. Hasn’t Daddy prepared you for this for years?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Exactly. Now go. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get your treat.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I leaned across the console and pecked his cheek.
“I won’t take long.”
I hopped down from the truck, which was a bit of a drop, since I was so short. Gun clutched in hand, I tucked the weapon under my hoodie and walked toward the park. At night, it was way too quiet and creepy. I used to hate the dark until Daddy got me accustomed to it. He’d lock me inside the display box at night with the lights off and repeated it until I was too numb to notice the darkness anymore.
To others, Daddy’s punishments might seem cruel, but they worked. Daddy knew what was best for me.
My sneakers crunched on the ground, and the cool night air whipped at my cheeks. I continued down the street until I saw the car parked up ahead.
This was it! I was going to get my chocolate treat. I could already taste the rich flavor on my tongue.
A figure stood next to the car. He’d come alone just like Daddy said he should. Daddy was so smart that he knew how to get people to do exactly what he wanted.
Even from a distance, the man looked tall. They always were taller than me and bigger too, but Daddy said that was my secret weapon. I was a pint-sized Barbie doll no one took seriously. A pity they always overlooked the choking hazard sign that usually came on the package.
“Excuse me,” I said, injecting my voice with the childlike quality that made people feel safe. “Are you Crispin Webb?”
He straightened and dropped the cigarette he’d been puffing on to the ground and crunched it out with his boot. “What’s it to you, kid?”
“I was told to give you a message. The man you’re expecting won’t be able to make it.”
“Fuck.” He peered at me as I got even closer. “Jesus Christ, you’re young. How old are you, kid?”
“Old enough.”
“You got in with the wrong crowd.” He shook his head. “You should choose better friends and not ones who want you dead.”
I frowned. “What?”
A gun cocked behind me. I spun around and froze. A second man walked out of the shadows, a handgun trained on me.
My heart lurched in my chest, and my left eye ticked as I fought against what my gut was telling me. No, Daddy would never do this to me.
“Like I said”—Webb opened the back door of the car—“you need to choose better friends. Now hand me the gun you have in your pocket and get the fuck in.”
***
I was numb as my two abductors rode to an industrial part of the city. We didn’t drive too far. The journey took about half an hour. I didn’t know the city that well, always relying on Daddy to get me in and out as the need arose. The only thing I could think of doing was calculating how far I was from the point where they’d taken me.
After confiscating my weapon, they’d shoved me into the car but hadn’t thought to restrain me. Throughout the drive, I kept my hand in my pocket, fingering the small plastic bag with the lethal pill Daddy had insisted I take with me. He always did.
Why didn’t I take it?