“I can do that. I mean, show her I love her. I’m not so sureabout you.” I pulled a throw pillow onto my lap. “Stop staring at my junk.”
“I can see why Josie likes you so much. Your dick makes up for your glowing personality. But at least you care about what you said. Old Gabriel wouldn’t have even noticed how much he hurt her or even cared. Look at you, turning all mushy gushy and in loooove.”
I needed to stop, but it was oddly soothing to have a conversation with myself. My therapy appointment next week couldn’t come fast enough.
“Daddy?”
“Shit.” I ripped Sarah off my hand and threw her on the other side of the couch, missing and sending her onto the floor. “Yeah, sweetie?”
I got to my feet, a little unsteady, if I was being honest. It was stupid to drink so much.
Delaney stood at the bottom of the stairs, clutching her Simba. Honeybun darted from under the coffee table, her tail wagging. I’d almost forgotten she’d been in the living room with me.
“I heard noises.” She hugged her Simba closer as Honeybun tried to take it. “Bad dog!”
Honeybun backed up, her tail going between her legs. She hadn’t chewed up anything yet so I didn’t know what her deal was. Maybe she could sense the tension in the house.
“The noises were probably me.” I grabbed my phone and put the alcohol bottle away. “Let’s get back to bed.”
“Where’s Josie?” Delaney looked down the hall where Honeybun was now headed to the studio.
“She still doesn’t feel well, so she’s sleeping in her bedtonight.” I was tempted to go and check on her, but with as much alcohol as I’d had, it wasn’t a good idea.
As I accompanied Delaney back to bed, I couldn’t stop worrying about what I was going to tell Delaney if I’d ruined everything between me and Josie.
“Daddy?” The soft voice came from right next to my ear, and I groaned, my head feeling like it was going to explode. “Daddy!”
“What?” I groaned, rolling over away from the noise.
There was a sound an awful lot like a stomped foot, and a moment later, light poured into the room. Jesus Christ, she was going full-on mom-mode on me.
“Laney, really?” I threw a pillow over my head.
“Josie’s crying. I think she’s hurt.” The mattress dipped and Delaney shook me. “Wake up.”
“What?” My brain was still coming online, and I sat up. “You’re hurt?”
She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up and letting them fall heavily to her thighs. She was already dressed for the day, and her hair was in a ponytail that she’d clearly tried to do herself. “Josie is.”
Josie’s hurt.
Throwing off the covers, I looked down at myself. I was still wearing my jeans from yesterday. I hadn’t thought I’d beenthatdrunk, but I guess by the time I’d tucked Delaney back into bed and gotten to my room, I couldn’t even be bothered to take off my clothes.
“Stay here.” If Josie was injured, I didn’t want Delaney to be traumatized. What if she’d cut her finger? Burned herself? Broken her leg?
My head pounded harder as I made my way downstairs. I stopped at the bottom, my eyes taking in the mess scattered from the entryway into the living room to where Josie sat on the floor, Sarah Swoon’s head—and only her head—clutched to her chest.
It was pure carnage, with arms and legs, stuffing, felt, and chunks of hair. The puppet was destroyed, and the culprit lay shivering with wide, glossy eyes under the coffee table.
“Josie.” My voice was rougher than usual, my mouth and throat dry. “Are you hurt? Laney said you were hurt.”
She didn’t look at me but climbed to her feet. “I’m fine.” Her swollen eyes and red face said otherwise.
“What happened?”
Josie started to pick up the pieces of her destroyed puppet, her hands trembling. “The dog hasn’t chewed up anything, and now this?” She sucked in a sharp, shaky breath. “Are you happy?”
Was I happy to see her pick up the scattered pieces of her puppet while trying not to break down? No, no, I wasn’t. “Let me clean this up.”