Page 91 of Redline Baby

"Good boy."

The spoon comes back.

I sob, whine, swear into the cushion beneath me. I try to stay still and fail miserably. Soren keeps me steady, his rhythm controlled. Fuck, but it really hurts.

Eventually, after a long, long time, the spoon stops completely. Soren sets it aside, his palm resting against my backside, warm and gentle now. I cry into his lap for another few seconds before I realize nothing else is coming.

"The consequence is over," he says.

My whole body loosens.

"You understand why you got it?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Tell me."

"Because I skipped therapy instead of telling you I was scared."

"And?"

"I lied when you asked."

"Good." His hand moves slowly over my back. "The fear still isn't something you're in trouble for."

My throat tightens again. "I know."

"Good boy."

He helps me upright. I end up pressed against him, face buried in his shirt, my hands loose at first and then curling into the fabric as his arms settle around me.

He kisses my hair, pets me, lets me cry the remaining pieces of it out without rushing me.

Eventually, when my breathing has settled and the room has stopped swimming around me, Soren eases back enough to look at my face.

"Okay."

My eyes probably look swollen. My throat feels scraped raw.

"Bedtime."

I blink. "What?"

"Bedtime."

"It's seven-thirty."

"Correct."

I stare at him.

Soren's mouth almost moves. Almost.

"At eight, you're going to bed. No phone."

I open my mouth.

"Before you panic," he says, "listen."