Doll Parts (The Game 4)

“Grab your balloon, kid, and we’ll head back,” River grunted. Then I heard him hiss. “Jesus, you had to kick me right in the ribs.”

Noa was freaking guffawing. “I win! Count yourself lucky, punk! I’mma run back to Daddy now!”

“Wait!” River hollered. “We can walk back together!”

I winced, torn between amusement and—no, I was definitely worried too. Noa didn’t linger for a second. He’d snatched up the balloon, and now he was running back through the forest. The audio dropped out after River sighed and said he’d be right there.

Colt handed me the tablet. “I’m gonna go clear your schedule for the next hour. Then you can decide if you wanna continue with the last station for the day.”

“I appreciate that, Colt. Thank you.”

After he’d ducked out of the fighting cage, I grabbed the speaker from the nearby chair and placed it on the floor along with the tablet. Knowing Noa, he was going to jump right into me, so I had to get seated. I supported my weight on my cane and limped outside with the chair, then carefully dropped into it without bending my legs too much.

I blew out a heavy breath and wiped my forehead.

The humidity was crazy, the rain was picking up, and my emotions were running high.

“Fuck,” I cursed. I should’ve brought the tablet with me. Noa had horrible coordination skills in the dark. What if he tripped and hurt himself?

Stupid, stupid idiot.

I gripped the armrests of the chair and tried to push myself up, but it was impossible. Craning my neck, I eyed the tarp covering the fighting cages behind me. While I was close enough to reach it, the tarp was too thick for me to be able to grab on to one of the bars that made up the cage. My arm muscles were the only part of me that’d actually grown stronger since the accident; there wasn’t a whole lot I couldn’t pull myself up with. Chin-ups? Not a fucking problem. But the tarp was in the way.

For a quick moment, self-hatred and anger burned hotly within me, and I wondered what the fuck Noa was doing with a broken man like me.

I screwed my eyes shut, and I pulled forth all my made-up images of Noa and Lucian yelling at me. It was my therapist who’d once recommended me to “construct” my own memories of family members who talked sense to me. “Because we tend to listen to those we love more than we listen to ourselves.”

“Daddy!”

My head snapped up, and all the air left my lungs in a painful whoosh.

Noa ran out of the forest and tossed the headlamp to the side. He was all dirty and muddy and wet, and he had a big smile on his face, a balloon in his hand, and tears streaming down his face.

I’d never seen anything more beautiful.

As predicted, he jumped into my arms, and we nearly fell back.

“It’s so fucking good to see you, baby boy.” I hugged him tightly and let my hands roam his body. His hair, his shoulders—I had to see his face. “Let me get a look at you. Are you hurt?”

He shook with silent cries, even with the smile and laughter joining in. “I caught the balloon, and I’ve never been so scared in my life!”

My heart pounded faster now than it had before, and I couldn’t describe the relief—or the worry that refused to die down. A few scratches on his cheeks, that was all. I could live with that.

His joy took a hike a beat later, maybe because the danger had passed, and he fell apart in my arms. “I was so scared, Daddy!”

I hugged him to me again and pressed my lips to his hair. I didn’t know where the balloon disappeared to, but it wasn’t here anymore. Not that it mattered.

“You did so well,” I murmured thickly. “I was so fucking proud when you chose to safeword.”

“Nooo,” he wailed. “It ruined the play. I was too relieved t-to get scared ag-again.”

“Aww,” I chuckled and closed my eyes. “Sweet boy, we’ll have more chances in the future for fear play—if you want.”

He hiccupped around a sob and couldn’t really form a response. Every now and then, a giggle bubbled up too.

A minute or so later, River returned with a deflated costume under his arm, his face wet with sweat and rain. And clown makeup. He threw the costume inside the fighting cage and grabbed a box of tissues.

“Baby, do you wanna say hi to River?” I asked.

Noa was still weepy, but the sobs had faded away. He sniffled and wiped at his cheeks as he lifted his head from my shoulder, and I combed back his hair with my fingers.

River squatted down next to my chair and extended the tissues to Noa. “You okay, kiddo?”