Page 35 of In You

Horrified, I leap to my feet and lunge for a bowl I see in the drain.

Abandoning any sort of decorum, I hurriedly dive in the freezer, knocking shit out of the way as I root around for the vanilla ice cream.

I grab it out and scoop exactly one small scoop into the bowl, and then smash the sleeping pill powder in.

I lower to my knees and hand it to her, ignoring the wetness glistening on her fingers as she takes it from me.

"Thank you, daddy. It's so nice to have ice cream."

Oh Jesus, this is bad.

Closing my eyes, I take another deep breath trying to keep my voice calm. "I'm not your daddy."

"Oh," she says simply, getting a little frown line between her brows and her shoulders shrug up around her ears. "I have a lot of daddies. I thought you were one, too."

My heart shatters at what that implies. I can't bring myself to ask any more questions. I refuse.

"I'm not your daddy, darling," I repeat.

There. Darling's safe. I think…

"You're not?" Her brows scrunch together in confusion as she puts the biggest bite ever in her mouth.

"No."

She puts her hand back between her legs and scratches.

I wince as I hear a couple pieces of the dog food hit the floor, and I snap my fingers hard in a warning when Tink crawls close, sniffing up her leg.

"Lay down," I growl through my teeth quietly, giving Tamryn a bright smile when she gives me a confused look and begins to lower onto her side.

"Not you, darling. Just keep eating, and when you're finished then maybe we can watch a cartoon. "

She sits back up and then gets a little smile. "Wow!" Her eyes go round. "Reaalllyyy?" I nod soberly. "It's a good day. Mr. Calvin never lets me watch cartoons!" She shoves another bite in her mouth and then sighs.

I'm so sad. So goddamn sad.

Fuck. My. Fucking. Life.

My fist clench in misery. This is my punishment for killing all those people. I must have died at some point and gone to the very center of hell after all. My skin itches when she reaches down to scratch again. What the fuck did that man do to her to have her so out of her mind like this?

"Can you… can you take that out of you, please?" I ask softly, my eyes flickering back to hers.

She gives me a nod and then spreads her legs, reaching back in there.

I turn my back to her and then lean forward, grabbing the trashcan and sliding it behind me and closer to her, keeping my back turned so she can have privacy.

The fact we're dealing with this so close on the heels of the raw intimacy we shared is going to stay with me forever, along with everything else.

"Good, now throw it away."

It's only when I hear the sound of the kernels finish hitting the bottom of the can do I chance a look over my shoulder. She's blowing a big breath between her lips, making her thick curls fluff out.

"Thank you, daddy. I feel better now. That was itchy. Itchy, itchy!" she shudders.

I'm never going to be able to erase the sound of her little girl voice out of my head.

Even if I opened the top of my head and poured the bleach straight into my brain.

The sound has gone into the same folder that houses all the fucked up shit my mom did to me.

And if I ever thought my heart was dead before, then I was a fool. It's very much alive.

And it's so thoroughly broken it may as well be dead.

"I'm not your daddy, darling," I say hoarsely.

Her lips quiver, and her hands clutching the bowl lower to her lap as her eyes go wide with heartbreak. "Okay," she says in a thick voice, her bottom lip poking out.

A high pitched sob tears from her throat, and her face contorts as she begins to cry in a way that's so distraught that it's discombobulating.

"Oh no, oh no, no, no. Don't cry, darling. It's okay."

Big fat tears slide down her cheeks, and snot mixes with the mess on her face. "I want my mommyyyy. Where's my mommyyyyy?"

I freeze as my stomach rolls again. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I can't do this.

Ringo whines, heaving a big sigh as he keeps his head on the floor. Tink shivers. Her tail wags every once in a while, but then immediately stops. The dogs don't even know what to do.

Ice cream mixes with the dog food smeared on her lips and chin, and I keep my eyes on hers, feeling like a piece of shit as her eyes show heartbreak.

Everything in me wants to get her a glass of water, but if I do that and she switches to find herself in this predicament, what the fuck would happen?

I can't chance it.

I get up and wet a few paper towels, then go back down to the floor, wiping her face gently. When I'm done, I pull her to me and rock her. Her hands go to my chest as she looks up at me. And you know what, I couldn't care less. This is my girl, and I'm making sure she's safe.

"Are you sure you're not my daddy?" she whimpers. "You're so nice."

"No I'm not. But, I am the ice cream man," I say with a smile. "And I'll give you as much ice cream as you want. Whenever you want it!" I chuck her under the chin, trying to make it believable.

By some act of divine mercy she conks out fast, and I pick her up, carrying her to the shower and then turn it on.

Laying her down on her back, I feel tears sliding down my cheeks as I reach a finger into her and dig out all the dog food she missed and then fill a little squirt bottle with water.

Squirting it inside of her until I'm sure she's clean and her skin won't be irritated.

Then I lay her down in my bed and then go into the bathroom and then start myself a bath. I pour a healthy glug of bleach in, and then scrub as hard as I can until I don't feel my mom's touch on me anymore.

A few hours later Tamyra walks out the back door, folding her arms. She's in another cardigan set. A deep green one, seemingly abandoning ever wearing a dress ever again. "I've been waiting for you to come to breakfast," she snaps irritably.

I hold back a sigh, putting my cigarette to my lips.

"Good morning, Tamryn," I say in a weary tone I can't help.

She pauses, squinting at me. "Whoa." she says, her eyes going wide. "What the fuck happened to you? You look like dog shit."

It's not funny, but I snort. "That's because I ironically took a trip to doggie hell last night." I take a long drag of my cigarette, and lean my head back on the chair as I rock.

"What?" Her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I don't want to talk about it."

She nods, folding her arms and looking to the trees ahead. I jerk my head to the other rocking chair on the other side of the small table. "Have a seat." As soon as she does, I look over at her, roaming her face. "You feel okay?"

"Yeah." She gives me a little look, arching a sassy brow at me, "I feel fine. Why? Do you feel okay?"

I nod. However, I'm pretty sure I'm not. I think I'm still in shock or something. "I'm fine," I lie.

After I had a mental breakdown in the tub, I dialed Alexander's emergency number and got a prescription for anxiety medicine for myself, and a much stronger sleeping pill for her. Wondering what the fuck I'm going to do if she splits again into Cun… Tamryn, the seven year old.

Because Caleb, the seven year old, almost got out of the bath and put a gun to his head last night, and I promised to save her. I didn't do it, obviously, because I can't save her if I'm dead.

As she talks, I run through shit in my mind, trying to keep everything right.

Tamryn's put out, irritated I won't let her go, loves to eat hearty food, loves flowers. I see her in the morning mostly.

Camilla loves soft sex and intimacy and trust with me, doesn't love flowers, likes delicate food, comes out often.

Nathan, only came out once when threatened out in the woods.

Tamryn the seven year old, not that horrid fucking "c" word, also only has come out once. Not sure what the trigger is, but I race through everything in my mind to figure it out. Fuck, can this even be figured out?

I don't know, but for her, I have to keep trying. I am Frank 2.0 . If anyone can figure this the fuck out, it should be me.

Right?