Page 113 of The Idol

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I took a big breath and tried again. “I… my… face,” I whispered. “And… my hands. My arms.”

Her gaze swept over me, assessing, careful. “Okay. Okay, that’s alright. You’re safe here.” Her hands were cool as she helped me onto the cot. “Tell me if anything gets worse.”

Safe.

Safe?

The word didn’t fit in my head. It bounced around without landing anywhere.

I swallowed. Tried to breathe.

Outside the open doors, voices rose.

“We are not doing this right now,” Patel hissed.

“He needs me!” Daddy barked.

“He needs an actual—”

“He won’t speak to any of you—he barely speaks at all to anyone but me—”

“He called you—God, Agbayani, do you even hear yourself? You can’t stay with him. It’s past inappropriate—”

“It’s the only damn reason he’s not on the ground screaming right now,” Daddy snapped.

My pulse quickened.

Daddy’s voice dropped lower, rougher. “If you want him as a witness? You let me stay by his side.”

Patel didn’t respond at first. I heard only hard breathing, the kind that comes right before a decision.

The lady with kind eyes and steady hands looked back at me and spoke softly. “Are you in pain right now, sweetheart?”

I tried to answer her, but all I could hear were their voices outside.

All I could think was—

They know each other.

Who is Daddy?

What is happening to me?

The nice woman was still talking, still asking gentle questions, but her voice kept slipping away, drifting in and out.

Outside, Daddy and Patel’s argument sharpened, cutting through the haze.

“You think I wanted this?!” Daddy hissed.

“You weren’t fucking sent here to, what—indulge in a fucking Daddy kink? What the hell, Agbayani?” Patel shot back. “Do you even understand how fucked up this is, man?”

Sent here? By the—the strangers?

My stomach rolled.

Father’s voice rose in my head, so loud it drowned out everything else.