Page 69 of Saving Little Clark

But incredibly, miraculously, it seemed to be working. Uncle Will was fighting back a smile, shoulders shaking with barely repressed laughter. Lance just looked pained, pinching the bridge of his nose like he could ward off the impending headache through sheer force of will.

Even Daddy's stern facade was starting to crack, a telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement.

For a single, shining moment, I thought we might actually pull this off. That Alex's patented brand of bullshit and bravado would see us through, leaving Kristen sputtering in impotent rage.

But Daddy knew me, inside and out. Could read me like a large-print book. And right now, he was reading me like the Sunday Times.

"Clark," he said again. "I want the truth, baby boy."

Looking up into those eyes, dark and fathomless with disappointed expectation, I couldn't do it. Not to him. Not to my daddy, my safe place. My harbor in every storm, even those of my own making.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "We did it, Daddy. We were just so mad, after everything they'd done. All the mean stunts they'd pulled, the names they'd called us. Ijust wanted to make them hurt, the way they'd hurt me. The way they'd hurtmy friends, Daddy."

The tears were flowing freely now, hot and shameful on my cheeks. "Alex tried so hard to be their friend, to give them a chance, and they just threw it back in his face. I couldn't stand it. Not when he's so good, Daddy. The best boy I know."

A little hiccupping sob worked its way up my throat. "And I thought it would make me feel better, I guess. But it didn't. It didn't fix anything, it just made everything worse."

I risked a glance up at Daddy through my tears, expecting to find disappointment. But all I saw was understanding.

"Oh, my sweet boy," he breathed, a whole world of emotion in the endearment. "I know how much it hurts, seeing someone you love be treated that way. How it makes you want to lash out, make them hurt the way they've hurt you. But that's never the way. Because it drags you down into the mud right along with them, until you can't even recognize yourself anymore."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," I choked out. "I never wanted to disappoint you."

"Hey now," Daddy chided, bringing his other hand up to frame my face. "You messed up. It makes you human, baby. Flawed and fallible, same as the rest of us. But Iamdisappointed in your behavior. I expected better of you, and we both know you're capable of it.”

I flinched, the words like a lash across my heart. But before I could pull away, wallow in my shame, Daddy leaned in close. Brushed his lips across mine.

"I love you," he said, simple and devastating. "That will never change, no matter how much you stumble. No matter how many times you fall or how far you have to climb to find your way back up."

With a ragged sob, I threw myself into his arms. "Thank you, Daddy. For loving me. For not giving up on me, even when I make it so hard sometimes."

Daddy huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "Oh, baby boy. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done. The simplest truth I've ever known."

"I'm ready," I told him, quiet but sure. "For whatever comes next, whatever punishment you decide. I trust you, Daddy. And I'll take my licks like a big boy, knowing it's no more than I deserve."

Daddy's face softened impossibly further, eyes going molten and sweet. "Oh, sweetheart. In this family, discipline isn't about making you feel bad, or trying to scare you into behaving. It's about teaching. To show you that actions have consequences, that the choices we make can ripple out and affect others in ways we never intended."

He led me away from the others and into our bedroom, where it was just the two of us.

"Come here a second, let Daddy hold you."

And so, I went. Let him gather me up, position me just so. Draped over his lap, facedown across the solid breadth of his thighs. It should've felt vulnerable. Shameful, even, baring my ass for correction.

The first swat, when it came, startled me more than anything. I yelped, a shock of heat blooming across my ass. But it was bearable. A low, simmering ache.

I tensed, squeezing my eyes shut. Daddy's palm rained down on my ass again in a rhythm, each spank stoking the building sting.

I kicked and squirmed, hot tears spilling down my ruddy cheeks. "Ow! I'll be good, I promise."

"Almost done." Daddy tipped me forward, targeting the sensitive undercurve where ass met thigh. I wailed as the final volley of swats scorched my sore sit-spots.

At last, it was over. I went limp, sobbing breathlessly into the bedspread. Daddy scooped me up and situated me on his lap, mindful of my smarting backside. He ran his fingers through my hair as I burrowed into his chest, dampening his shirt with my tears.

"Shh, you're okay. You did so well, my brave boy."

Shame sat heavy in my chest despite his soothing words. "I was really bad," I choked out. "Aren't you gonna send me away? You don't love me anymore!"

He jerked back as if I'd slapped him. "Clark! You stop that crazy talk right now." He tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. Hurt and sorrow swam in his eyes. "I love you. You're my boy, my heart. That will never change, no matter what."

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