Page 201 of Broken Daddy

Oh, man. That was so sweet. But not exactly what she was asking.

“No, I mean, why am I being punished?” That’s what this was meant to be, right? It didn’t quite feel like punishment.

“You said bad things about your appearance, little girl,” he told her. “And that is not acceptable. Nothing about you is awful.”

“I saw my cheek, Hayes. You can’t tell me that it’s not terrible.”

He turned her in his lap so she straddled his legs with hers and then he grasped hold of her chin.

“I ever hear you call yourself awful or hideous or anything like that again and you’re going over my lap every night for a spanking untilIget tired of spanking you. Hear me?”

Wow. Okay.

He seemed . . . really serious about that.

“But Hayes?”

“No, but Hayes! You are beautiful, inside and out. A cut or scar doesn’t change that. But tomorrow we’re also making an appointment with a plastic surgeon. Not because I feel that you need it, but because you do.”

“I can’t afford that.”

“Are you trying to make me mad?” he said in a low voice.

“No! Of course not! How would that make you mad? It’s just the truth. I can’t afford anything! I don’t even have a job.”

And if she had any money, it would go to paying him back for the hospital bill or to pay for the transport for her exhibition.

Michelle had canceled it, anyway.

“I will cover that.”

“But that’s not fair. You’re already doing so much. I’m living here for free and you’re paying for my physical therapy. I can’t . . . I can’t ask you to pay for anything else.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to ask. I’m telling you. We’re contacting one and I’m paying for it. And I don’t give a fuck about fair.”

“I do! It’s . . . you can’t do all of this when we’re not . . . we’re not even together.”

His eyes widened. “We’re not together?”

“No.”

“Are you living in my house?”

“Well, yes, but that’s because you feel obliged to keep me safe.”

“Obliged to keep you safe.”

“Yes.”

“So I’d do it for just anyone?”

She eyed him. He was going red. She’d never seen him look quite this . . . upset. And she couldn’t imagine him doing this for just anyone.

“Well, no, not for just anyone,” she said.

“Am I taking care of you? Feeding you? Bathing you? Are you my Little girl?”

“Well, yes, and that’s all very kind?”