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Oh, baby.

“Kammie, you really think I’m gonna let you go?”

“No,” he says, but his voice is so small it sounds like a lie.

I pull the car over, ignoring the blare of a horn behind me. I turn to him, cupping his cheek. “Look at me.”

He does, eyes wet and shimmering.

I take off my belt and loop it around his wrists. He blinks in shock as I fasten the leather tight, snug enough to make him gasp.

His breathing goes shallow. “Daddy…”

“Does this feel like I’m letting go? Tell me what would make you believe it. What would make you certain I’ll keep you forever?”

He bites his lip, thinking so hard I can almost see the gears churning behind his eyes. “I don’t know,” he says finally, so heartbreakingly honest it makes my vision blur at the edges. “I don’t think anything would. I think I’m just… always gonna be scared.”

“Not even if I killed for you?”

He jerks, looks at me with a kind of sick fascination. “W-what?”

“I would,” I say, more truth than threat. “If that’s what it took.”

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’d… do that?”

I reach up, thumb across his cheek. “Killing someone is permanent, baby. I risk being put away for the rest of my life if I’m ever found guilty of it.”

He looks horrified. “I don’t want you to go! I don’t—what would I do—I can’t—”

I shush him. “Shh, shh, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you. No one’s going to take me from you. I just said that so you could understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Do you remember Steven?”

His eyes go wide. He nods. His lips part, then close, then part again. “You… Is he…” The question dies, but I know what he means.

“I took care of him,” I say, so gently it’s almost a caress. “He’s gone, baby. And I made sure it hurt. I made sure he was scared when he went. Because nobody gets to touch my boy and walk away happy. And if there’s anybody else who’s hurt you like that, anyone you haven’t told me about yet, I’ll do the same to them.”

Kamden stares at me, some wild emotion flickering through his features—awe, fear, relief, all of it at once. His voice comes out a bare whisper. “You… did that for me?”

I nod. “Of course I did.”

He is silent. He stares at the dashboard. At his hands. The world outside is a blur of gray trees and rain-wet pavement, but inside the car everything is dazzlingly vibrant—every breath, sound, and heartbeat. He starts to shake, little tremors, and I think for a second he might cry.

He’s breathing hard as he looks me in the eyes and says, “I love you. I—I love you, Daddy.”

“I’m a monster, sweetheart,” I say, and for once I mean it like an apology, not a boast.

He shakes his head, fiercely. “No, you’re not.”

I chuckle, low and dark. “I’m not a good man, Kamden.”

He reaches up, hands still bound, and clumsily drapes his wrists around my neck, then pulls me into him. “You’re my Daddy, and I love you. I love you more than anything. And if… if you ever try to let me go, I’m gonna lock you up,” he says, stubborn as hell, and kisses me so hard it bruises my mouth.

The seatbelt cuts into my ribs as I lean over, but I can’t make myself care. He tastes like apple juice and salt, like the childhood he never got to have. I kiss him back with everything in me, every scrap of sick devotion and broken gentleness. I want to climb inside him, make a nest and stay there. I want to protect him from the whole world, but I also want to see him cry. I want both at the same time. I don’t know if I’m a monster or a saint.

I break the kiss and murmur against his mouth, “Fuck, baby boy. You’d do that?”