Page 329 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Yes.” She sighs. “I feel like I’m running on a treadmill that never stops and just keeps getting faster and faster.”
“What happens if you step off the treadmill?”
Naomi offers me a weak smile. “The world ends. At least according to my mom. I don’t graduate and I’ll never get a job and I’ll end up homeless with no teeth.”
I laugh at the absurdity. “I didn’t get into college and I don’t have a degree and I have my own business and the homeless guys I know have all their teeth. There’s life off the treadmill.”
“What’s your business?” Naomi asks. “Dad didn’t tell me much about you other than he was bringing you up to meet me.”
“I have my own tattoo parlor in the East Village.”
“Really? Can I see some of your tattoos?”
“Sure.” I take out my phone and flip to a folder full of my favorite, finished work.
Naomi scrolls through the pictures with utter concentration. She’s so fiercely focused that I find it hard to believe she needs to take speed to stay on top of the academic treadmill.
“These are really good,” she says. “Like really, really good. They’re art.”
“Thanks.” When she hands me back my phone, I thumb over to the design for Mac’s mermaid. “This is the one I’m doing on your dad. To replace that terrible thing on his back.”
Naomi covers her mouth with one hand while she laughs. “Oh God, his mermaid. I used to get so embarrassed when he took his shirt off at the pool or beach. I’m glad he’s finally getting it covered.”
“It’s one of the worst I’ve ever seen. I’m thinking about using it in before and after ads. The before is going to be titled, ‘flounder with boobs’.”
Naomi giggles. It’s not as nice as Emily’s giggle, but it’s still good to hear, and it transforms her face into something much less zombie-like. “It totes is.”
I grin at her, feeling the age difference between us in that one sentence. Any worry I had about being too young for Mac finally dissipates.
“How did you get into tattooing?” Naomi asks.
I tell her about Edz taking me to see Rufus, my unexpected apprenticeship, and taking over the shop from Rufus when he retired. As I’m winding down my story, Naomi reaches out and taps her fingernail against my collar.
“I know what this is,” she says quietly.
I swallow as though the collar’s suddenly tightened around my throat. “You do?”
She nods. “My mom used to wear one. A metal ring. Engraved in the back was the word ‘property.’ She always kept her hair down over it but I saw it a few times. Are you like that with my dad? Are you his property?”
“Not exactly. I’m submissive. Do you know what that is?”
She spends a long moment studying the flowers she’s set on the arm-table attached to her chair before she nods. “I read about it.”
“What did you read? Because there’s all kinds of garbage online.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Never believe everything you read on the internet. But I read a lot about it, about being submissive. I bought some books. I wanted to understand ... my mom said that she didn’t want those things. What my dad did to her. She said he beat her and forced her to have sex with him in ways that hurt her. But—” Naomi lifts her shoulder, the sharp bone moving under her expensive blouse. “That’s not my dad.”
“Naomi, I’m not sure anyone knows the truth of a relationship when they’re outside it. I only know what your dad’s told me. What I can say is that Mac is one of the most conscientious Doms I’ve met. I’ve never had a moment’s fear that he’d do anything to truly harm me. He goes out of his way to make sure I feel safe and cared-for.”
She offers me a small smile. “He always makes me feel that way, too. The things Mom said he did.” She shakes her head. “That’s not my dad. I know him. He loves my mom. Even though everything got fucked up between them, I know he loves her. He didn’t do the things she said he did. Or if he did, it wasn’t in the way she said.”
That makes my throat tighten again. Things I don’t want to hear? That Mac’s still in love with his ex.
“I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle,” I say. “It’s a shit place to be.”
She sighs and strokes her flowers. “It is. I thought by coming up north to go to school, I’d get away from it. I guess I fucked that up, too.”
“Sounds to me like you’re getting back on the treadmill,” I say. “Maybe step off and let them run on it for a while.”
