Page 81 of Merciless Daddy

“I thought you said you weren’t a liar.”

“A little.”

I pressed my thighs together beneath the table.

He noticed that too.

His voice dropped half a register. “Meals.”

I swallowed. “Three, unless I’m ill. And I tell you if I can’t eat.”

“Good.”

The praise slid over my skin. He did not say good girl, but that made me want it more.

Bedtime came next.

“I’m not going to bed at nine,” I said.

“Eleven on ordinary nights.”

“Midnight.”

“Absolutely not. Eleven-thirty latest.”

“Midnight on weekends.”

He considered. “Eleven-thirty during the week. Midnight on weekends. Later by agreement.”

“You bargain over sleep like shipping capacity.”

“Sleep is more valuable then any cargo known to man.”

I rolled my eyes and wrote it down.

Then came the rule I disliked.

When overwhelmed, I had to tell him.

“I already have a phrase,” I said. “I lie—say I’m fine and then we move on.”

“There’s no moving on. If you’re overwhelmed, we deal with it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I stared at him.

Heat moved low again.

The idea of Sal hearing those words and simply refusing to permit the lie did something dangerous to me. I imagined his fingers beneath my chin. His voice telling me to try again. To give him the truth.

“What do I say instead?” I asked.

“‘I’m overwhelmed.’”

“Hideous.”