An explosion of noise and hazardous amounts of sugar content erupts from the kids. The ground quakes with their excitement. Even the adults have extra pep in their step as they approach the neon pink party wagon. Meanwhile, Frankie’s complexion has paled significantly.
“If I don’t survive, I’m going to haunt you.” She shudders as if preparing for the ghostly role.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“C’mon, Mommy!” Ronnie races toward us and tugs on Frankie’s arm. “Sit by me. Please, please!”
Any evidence of upset thaws from the reformed ex-con’s frigid posture. “Of course, kiddo. I’d love that.” But then Frankie’s green eyes slice a glare at me, revealing the fire burning in their depths. “You’re still going to pay for this.”
“I look forward to it, menace.” My lips slide into a smirk as I fall into step behind them. “And for all our years to come.”
My fingers slip while I try to secure another knot. “Quit struggling.”
Byron bucks beneath me, not going down without a fight. “This isn’t consensual.”
I scoff and tighten my hold on his bound wrists. “As if you’re suddenly concerned about consent.”
But just for the sake of avoiding triggers and safe words, it’s very possible for him to escape. This situation is like a pebble compared to a mountain. I’m not under any illusion to claim otherwise. He’s enjoying this whether he openly admits it or not.
Which the smug grin on his dirty mouth proves. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t had the chance?”
Frustration sparks in my veins and I resume my feeble strategy of binding him to the headboard. “That didn’t give you permission to flush my pills.”
“I was just trying to give you what you wanted,” he croons.
“You twisted my words after a moment of weakness. Now,” I snap. “Hold still.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Be a good boy and find out.”
His hips flex under me, giving solid approval from his arousal through the blanket. “I’m in the mood to be bad.”
“Unfortunately, you’re not in control. Remind me of that pesky line you like to yammer?” I tip my head, pretending to think it over. “This will go a lot smoother if you cooperate.”
Before Byron can submit to my whims, the bedroom door creaks open. “Mommy?”
The soft voice halts my attempts at retaliation as I flip my position to face Ronnie. “Hey, kiddo. What’re you doing awake?”
The horror in my voice is warranted. This is a scene no adult ever wants a child to witness. I’m straddling her dad’s lap with rope in my hands like a devious cowgirl. It’s a small miracle that we’re somewhat dressed. Scantily-clad is better than stark naked.
“I had a bad dream,” she mumbles. “Can I sleep with you?”
“Ummm.” I peer at Byron from over my shoulder. “Is the tent still erected?”
He grunts while lowering his bound wrists. “Deflated faster than a popped balloon.”
Relief sags the strain in my spine and I turn to smile at Ronnie. “Sure, kiddo. We were just getting tucked in.”
Her footsteps shuffle across the carpet. “Were you camping?”
I send her a quizzical look in the dim glow from the lamp. “No?”
“Then why do you need a tent?”
Byron’s chuckle is gruff beneath me. “Mommy has a wild spirit that likes to take us on pretend adventures.”
I laugh, but the sound is strangled. “We were just… messing around.”