“And if you did? What would be so terrible? What would be the worst-case scenario?”
The worst-case scenario? “I don’t know. That I’ll wake you up? Maybe thrash around and hit you?”
“What happens if you wake me up?”
Was this a trick question. “Umm, I interrupt your sleep.”
“So then my sleep will get interrupted,” he said calmly. As though it was no big deal.
“Won’t you be annoyed? Angry? My mother used to hate when I’d wake her with my screams.”
“I’d be more upset if you had a nightmare and didn’t wake me up,” he told her. “If you suffered through it on your own without asking for help.”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m not good at asking for help.”
He reached up and undid the bun she’d put her hair in to have a bath. “I know. I’m going to help you with that. As for hurting me . . . even if you wake up punching, you’re not going to do any real damage. I promise.”
She narrowed her gaze. “A knee to the groin can hurt no matter how big you are.”
“You knee me in the balls, then you have to kiss it and make it all better.”
Her mouth dropped open as he winked.
“You’re sleeping in this bed. With me. So stop worrying about it. Now, where’s Squawkers?”
“Oh, umm, I don’t need to sleep with him . . .” she trailed off as Ed stood and gave her ‘the Ed look’. That’s what she was calling it until she came up with something better. Trademark pending.
Anyway, ‘the Ed look’ came out often. Usually when he seemed to think she was doing or saying something she shouldn’t be. ‘The Ed look’ usually involved lowered eyebrows, stern brown eyes, and slightly pursed lips. ‘The Ed look’ could make her stomach take a nosedive or dance depending on the reason for its appearance.
‘The Ed look’ was both scary and reassuring all at the same time. It made her want to simultaneously rebel and be a good little girl.
“He’s in the bedside drawer.”
He grabbed Squawkers and handed him to her. Leaning over her, he kissed her forehead gently. “I know that you’re at war with yourself over your Little side. That society teaches us that we have to be a certain way and if we’re not, then we’re weird or wrong. But in this house, with me, you are neither of those things. Nor am I. Here, you can be whoever you need to be. No judgment. No right or wrong. Okay?”
His look had softened and warmth filled her tummy. “Okay.”
“That’s my good girl.”
He stepped away and turned off the light, leaving the bathroom light on. She felt exhausted, even though she hadn’t done anything all day.
“Just going to check the house one more time,” he murmured to her quietly.
She was out like a light.
My little Daisy.
So sweet. So beautiful.
And all mine.
But you broke the rules, little Daisy. And now you need to pay . . .
She sat up with a scream. Sweat coated her skin. Her heart raced so hard that she felt ill.
Sick. Going to be sick.
A hand landed on her shoulder and she screamed again.