Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 105089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“I’ll keep working on him, but yeah. Just in case. Bye,” Dante said.
He didn’t take offense. He knew Dante struggled with any sort of affection or social niceties. They were alike in that way.
Dante’s father had taught him that emotions were dangerous and something to be ashamed of. He’d punished him every time he’d shown that he cared about someone.
They were all lucky that Dante wasn’t a monster like his father.
Moving upstairs, Alejandro headed to the playroom, but Cat wasn’t there. She’d tidied up, which was a surprise. She wasn’t always the tidiest person.
He moved to the main bedroom. “Cat?”
“In here!” she called out from the bathroom.
He walked over and tried the door, frowning as he found it locked. He didn’t like that.
No boundaries. No secrets.
He knew it was hypocritical since he kept a lot from her.
“Cat? Why is this door locked?” he demanded.
“I’ll be out in a moment.”
She didn’t sound right. Worry filled him. “Open it now.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?” He looked at the lock. It was one that could be unlocked from this side, he just needed to fit something into the slot to turn it.
“Because I’m pooping!”
He raised his eyebrows. Maybe that was true. But he was betting it wasn’t. And he didn’t care much if she was. He wanted in there now.
“I’m coming in.”
“It’s locked!”
“You should know by now that a locked door won’t keep me from you.”
“Fine! I’ll unlock it.” She opened the door a few inches, peeking out. “Hi, Papi.”
He gave her a suspicious look. She seemed fine, but he wasn’t buying it.
“Open the door, mi Pequeña mocosa,” he commanded.
“Hmm. I don’t think I wants to, Papi.”
“Why not?”
“I might have had the smallest accident.”
“Accident?” He frowned. “A toileting accident?” Fuck. He shouldn’t have left her in Little headspace. But she’d been playing happily with her Play-Doh at the time.
“What? Papi, no!” She gaped at him, her cheeks red. “Not that sort of accident.”
“Well, you’re locked in the bathroom and you said you were pooping.”
“Papi! Oh my God! Mierda!” she put her hands over her face. “I didn’t have a pooping accident!”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. When you’re playing in Little headspace, I know that you often ignore your bodily functions and—”
“Papi! I didn’t have a pooping accident. It was a bath accident!”
“What?” He looked into the bathroom as she moved out of the way, opening the door.
There was pink slime and bubbles everywhere. On the floor, in the bath, even partially up the walls. And then he took in Cat. She was sopping wet. The tights and sweater she’d been wearing were stained pink and so were her hands.
As well as the two towels she’d obviously been using to mop everything up.
“What the hell happened in here?” he asked.
“Um, well . . . would you believe a bath monster?”
“Bath. Monster.”
“Yep. See . . . I thought I’d run myself a bath. And I had this slime to put in it, but I didn’t know how much to put in so I poured it all in. And then I added some bubble bath too. Because everything is better with bubble bath, Papi. Then . . . I went to tidy up the playroom . . . aren’t you proud of me for tidying up, Papi?”
“Keep talking,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah . . . well . . . then, I came back and the bath monster had visited.”
“And the bath monster made this mess?”
“Uh-huh. I had to run to turn off the taps, but the bath monster wasn’t happy about that, and he tripped me.”
“What? He did what? I’ll fucking kill him!”
She gaped at him in shock.
Wait. Fuck.
Bath monsters aren’t real.
“Cat,” he said warningly. “There are no such things as bath monsters.” He moved toward her slowly. She stepped back until she was hemmed in between him and the bathroom cabinet.
“Well, who else did this, then?” she asked.
“You did.”
“I didn’t mean for the bath to overflow, Papi.” Her lower lip trembled.
With a sigh, he lifted her onto the countertop. Then he placed his hands on either side of her.
“I know you didn’t. But you also didn’t read the instructions on the packets, did you?”
“I can’t argue that. Unfortunately.”
“And should Little girls even be running their own baths?” he asked gently.
She dropped her head. “I s’ppose not, Papi. But I wanted a bath and, um, you were busy.”
Ouch.
That fucking hurt.
“I’m sorry I had to leave during playtime.”
Her head shot up, narrowly missing colliding with his chin as she gave him a shocked look. “You’re sorry? You?”
“Yes.”
“You rarely say sorry.”
No, because his uncle had beaten that habit out of him.
“I never want to neglect you, Pequeña. I will try to do better.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. “Papi, I knows you has lots of other things to do that are important. But you always make time for me. And I loves you. So don’t feel guilty. I’m good. Better than good. I knows you’d drop everything if I really needed you.”