Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants)

“But, Daddy.”

“It’s not up for discussion, baby.” No matter how much I wanted to place him on the bed, push his legs apart, and slide into his body, I couldn’t encourage him staying in little space all the time. At some point, he had to face all the emotions he was suppressing as a little.

He pouted as I dressed him, and when I took out a new diaper, he shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, and I smiled. If he didn’t want a diaper, then he might be ready to be an adult again.

“Okay, then.”

I carried him to the kitchen. He wouldn’t eat in the formal dining room as we had to pass the living room for that. At the foot of the stairs, his hold on me tightened, but he relaxed again when I walked into the dining room. I placed him on the floor with his tablet to watch cartoons and play with his sloth while I whipped up his dinner. After a week in the kitchen, I was getting better at making him meals.

“Dinner’s ready.” I helped him up to sit around the table and pulled my chair closer to his. He made grabby hands for his sippy cup, but I kept it out of his reach. “Not just yet. Eat first.”

He wasn’t too pleased with this, but he opened his mouth and allowed me to feed him the nuggets. I held in my laugh as he made a face each time I spooned carrots into his mouth. He was clearly not a fan in little space, although as an adult he loved them. He drank some juice and kicked his feet.

While he ate, I started on my meal — a microwaved pasta dish. It didn’t have much flavor, but cooking for Ari was about all I could manage.

“Full,” he announced, and since he was almost finished anyway, I shoved the rest of his nuggets into my mouth. He snagged his sippy cup and stuck the spout between his lips, draining the juice. “More.”

“No more juice, but you can have water.”

“Please.”

He drank two cups of water, and I frowned at him. “You’re exceptionally thirsty tonight.”

He climbed down from his chair, crawled under the table, and wrapped himself around one of my legs while I ate. I petted his head and finished my dinner. If I hadn’t appreciated Ari before, I would have now. House chores were tedious, but he’d always done them without complaint. I loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters, then took Ari back upstairs.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, settling him on the bed. “Be back soon.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

On the way to the bathroom, I shrugged out of my shirt. Once inside, I closed the door and leaned back against it. The things I wanted to talk to Ari about, but I couldn’t while he was like this. My leave wouldn’t last forever. We had decisions to make now that the police were off our case about Ken’s death. While I’d sent out applications for positions fitting my qualifications out of state, I didn’t even know if Ari wanted to leave. But what choice did we have if he couldn’t face the living room?

When I stepped back into the bedroom, Ari was no longer on the bed. The door to the hallway stood ajar.

“Ari?”

I hurriedly pulled on a pair of sweats, forgoing underwear.

“Ari?”

Still no answer. Goddammit, what was it now? Where was he?

I checked my office first. That was where he spent most of the day when he wasn’t in our bedroom. No Ari. Sniffles drew me to the living room. Ari stood just inside, staring at the empty spot where the couch had been. I’d thrown it out, since I couldn’t see either of us relaxing on the sofa where his friend had been murdered.

“Baby?”

He sniffled again. “It’s not fair.”

His voice no longer had that childlike quality to it as when he was being a little. The tone was broken and sad.

“I know, love.”

I approached him carefully and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, mindful not to hold him too tightly. The cuts on his back were still healing.

“He was a good guy, Shaw. He didn’t deserve to die that way.”