“Plus, I want you to stay the night,” she whispers with a cheeky smile. “I like having you as my dirty little secret.”
I grin and give her two thumbs up as her dad’s voice penetrates the door.
“Cady?”
She sighs. “Yeah, Dad. Won’t be long. I’m just out of the shower.”
For a moment, there’s silence, and I wonder if he’s walking away, but when he speaks, it’s clear that he didn’t move a muscle. “At dinnertime?” His tone is sort of scolding, and I kindawant to punch my fist through the door and into his face. There’s no harm in Cady having a fucking shower whenever she wants. “Your mom’s waiting,” he says, as if he couldn’t be down there feeding himself right now instead of standing outside the door pissing his daughter off.
The look on her face suggests she’s not going to hold back whatever venom is about to roll off her tongue either.
“Oh really?” Her tone is short and snippy, and my cock is as excited by that as much as it is by the fire in her eyes and the assertiveness radiating off her in waves of heady pheromones. “Did she tell you that?”
“Young lady…” Vander James Malone stumbles over his words but eventually attempts to reposition himself in the dominant role. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Cadence?”
Her eyes flit to me, and I point at my chest and grin. She covers her mouth to keep her giggle contained, then she swats the air in my direction and gives me a warning look, before reaching for the doorknob.
I stay pressed against the wall as she pokes her head out to greet her father face to face. “Sorry, Daddy. I’m probably moody because I’m on my period and made a terrible mess of my skirt. That’s why I’m in the shower. But if you want to start feeding Mom, I’ll be down to help soon.” She says it all so sweetly, and I just know her dad will be feeling awkward as fuck about now. My heart swells with pride, and my cock is beyond swollen with infatuation. If I wasn’t already overwhelmingly in love with this woman, I’d be well on my way. I cannot wait to spend the night sleeping next to her tiny single bed, like a fucking dog, becausemy God, am I her loyal follower and willing servant.
It doesn’t surpriseme that Cady’s dad leaves early in the morning. Too early to help with the bulk of his wife’s care or the household chores, and far earlier than is required by his job for him to do so. He’s an avoidant asshole who shifted his responsibilities onto a child, and he’s so threatened by her strength while she carries those burdens, that instead of being grateful, he makes her feel like shit.
They argued before he left, and I had to force myself to remain hidden while I absorbed every sick word of it. When Cady mentioned she wanted to attend the barn dance, she was met with resistance in every for. He threw up every barrier he could think of to keep her trapped inside the house, doing his job for him. He gas-lit, shamed, guilted his way through every trick in the narcissists’ playbook, using her kindness as if it’s a weakness and exaggerating everything from financial restraints to societal pressures in order to keep her housebound. He even stooped so low as to demean her body and accuse her of having nothing to talk with people about, because they wouldn’t want to discuss books at a dance. And besides, peopleexpecthim to be there, after all the time and effort he’s spent to help make it a success.
And he does all this with such exceptional skill of manipulation, that it doesn’t seem like he’s doing anything nasty at all — he’s doing her afavor, because he’s the one who upholds the community that supports them. He earns the money. His work helps so many people. He’s mindful of her physical appearance and health because he cares and…
It makes me fucking sick.
By the time he left, Cady’s ability to be her authentic, sexy, little badass self had been drained and dimmed into subservience. She actually said the words:Sorry Daddy. You’re right. Of course, I’ll stay home and take care of Mom. I don’t know what I was thinking.And the worst part of all, is that shemeantthem.
It wasn’t placation. It wasn’t her saying she’d do one thing while she had every intention to do another. It was total submission. Obedience.
It’s fucking heart-breaking, and I tell her as much — ending with, “He can’t actually stop you, Cady. You’re an adult, and you get to make your own choices. If you want to go to the dance, you can go.”
I was aiming for inspirational, but from the look in her eyes, and her stomping away while yelling how little I fucking know about anything, it’s clear that I only poked the bear. That I can understand, and honestly, I’d rather she targets me with all the unfairness she’s got bottled inside than have her keep it in there festering into more shitty beliefs about being unworthy of having a life of her own.
But my girl is smart. The moment she catches on that I’m trying to help her; she shuts it down. She refuses to hear a word from me — can’t take a lick of reassurance or praise, and she definitely can’t handle being built back up yet. She’s too hurt. Too angry and humiliated. She cuts me off each time I even open my mouth, making it clear she doesn’t want what I’m trying to give.
So, I keep my lips buttoned and follow her lead with the chores. I help her with what I can, but it’s hard to watch her process her feelings when I can see how much rage she’s carrying. Her body’s tense with it, and every movement she makes is as sharp and snappy as her tongue.
She rips the soiled bedding off her mom’s mattress, storms down to the laundry room, and shoves it into the machine. The detergent pods are fired into the front loader like grenades, and she slams the washer door shut so hard, it bounces right back open. This happens again and again, until she screams and kicks a crack in the washer’s door. Only then does she stop. She stares at what she’s done, and her eyes well with tears.
I fold her into my arms. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take the door off and put it in the car with the washing. You can take it to Morrinsville with you, and I’ll casual happen upon you at the laundromat there, where I’ll take care of both. While I do that, you can have a nice day out with your mom and tend to those personal matters you need to. Okay?”
She sniffs against my chest and nods. “Thank you,” she says in a whisper. “I’m sorry forHulk-ing out again. It’s just that every time I try to stand my ground or push back, I end up so frustrated. I hate the pain in his eyes that he can’t give me what I’m asking for, and I hate that my being selfish hurts him, so I give up, and I hate myself for that too. Iknowhow hard our situation is, and I do want to do my part to help, it’s just… I’m so tired. And I want a break. But it’s never the right time, and it sucks, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s all going to be okay, Cady. You’re not selfish, and you’re so much stronger than you’re giving yourself credit for. You deserve a fucking medal for the shit you put up with in the name of loyalty to your family, and that’s honorable. Your dad doesn’t deserve you, and from the way he’s behaving, he knows it. Why else would he be so hellbent on making you out to be someone you’re not?He’sthe one who feels guilty and ashamed and ugly, but he can’t handle those feelings, so he projects them onto you. Don’t you ever get to thinking you’re the problem. It’s not you, it’s him.” I give her a squeeze. “Once you’re done getting whatever you need at the pharmacy and whatnot, you’re going tomeet me in the mall parking lot, and I’m going to sit with your mom while you buy yourself a nice dress for the barn dance. Shoes too, if you need ‘em.”
She raises her puffy eyes to meet my gaze. “I can’t.”
I kiss her forehead. “Yes, the fuck you can.”
“But…”
“I insist.”
“But…”
I shake my head. “Your dad goes to Morrinsville all the time and buys whathewants, why should you be any different?”
