In the morning, my arms were sore and my shoulders were stiff.

Fuck.

I rattled the cuffs, but they wouldn’t budge.

Beside me, Cassandra slept on peacefully, a strand of her red hair strewn across her face. I wanted to reach forward and pin it behind her ear, but I was sure that if I attempted such a thing, she’d probably snap my fingers in half or something. She had one hell of a temper. I kind of liked it. She was probably a little vixen in the sack.

Just then, there came a soft knock on the door. “Mommy?”

Cassandra continued to sleep.

“Mommy?”

With my foot, I nudged the sleeping woman.

She jolted up, her eyes wide. “What? I’m up! I’m up!”

“Your daughter wants you,” I said, tilting my head toward the door.

“Shoot. What time is it?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Mommy?”

Quickly, Cassandra rolled out of bed and stumbled toward the door. When she opened it, little Kimmy stood there, still clad in her princess pajamas.

“What is it, pumpkin? Is something the matter?”

“Where’s Mr. Emil?”

“Oh… he’s a bit busy right now,” Cassandra answered, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone in her bedroom.

Sighing, I stared at the ceiling. How had I gotten myself into this mess?

* * *

A few minutes later, Cassandra reentered the room. She grabbed the key to the cuffs and unlocked them. “If you decide to pull a stunt again, I won’t be so nice the second time around.”

“You were being nice?” I questioned.

“Yup.”

“Could have fooled me,” I said, rubbing the life back into my arms.

“Now, get dressed. Kimmy wants to have breakfast with you. I don’t know why, but she seems to have taken a liking to you.”

I smirked. “Seems like your daughter has more sense than you do.”

She glared at me. “Shut up. I’m really not in the mood today.”

As I looked at her, I noticed that there were clear bags under her eyes. “Are you alright?” I asked before I could stop myself. For some reason, I was worried about her.

“Yeah. Don’t pretend like you care.”

I frowned. “Jeez, who the hell fucked you the wrong way?”

“Shut it,” she growled.

I had a feeling that if I continued antagonizing her, she would probably bite my head off. So I quietly donned some fresh clothes. They weren’t really my style but at least they fit.

When I was done, I headed for the kitchen. Kimmy was already sitting at the table, coloring. “Good morning!” she chimed. “How’d you like your slumber party with Mommy?”

I chuckled. “Oh, it was a blast.”

She giggled. “Mommy is funny.”

“She is,” I agreed, sitting down beside her.

“Do you want to help me color?” she asked, handing me a crayon.

“I don’t really color.”

“Anyone can color!” she insisted, looking at me with bright green eyes. She had her mother’s eyes, but her hair was a dark, almost blackish brown. I wondered, for a moment, who her father was and why he wasn’t a part of their family.

Relenting, I took the tiny crayon and started to color with the little girl, feeling a little ridiculous. But at the same time, it filled me with warmth to be sharing this moment with her.

By the time Cassandra walked into the kitchen, we had nearly finished the page we were working on. Eagerly, Kimmy jumped up to show her mother. “Look! Look!”

“Oh, wow! That’s really good, princess.” She leaned down, kissing her daughter’s head.

“Emil helped!”

“Did he?” Cassandra looked up at me. For a brief moment, our eyes locked. It felt like she was holding something back, trying to hide something from me. Before long, she looked away, working on breakfast.

“Yes! He’s good at coloring,” she said with a nod of her head.

“That’s good,” she answered a bit dismissively. “Why don’t you go get dressed for school?”

“But what about breakfast?”

“It’ll be done by the time you get dressed.”

“Okay!” Happily, she ran off.

“So, when are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. “You know, you’re not very good at a poker face.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, her voice cold.

“Don’t lie, Cassandra.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business.”

“Alright.” I dropped the subject. Obviously, pushing her would get me nowhere. “But if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

She scoffed.

“I’m being serious.” I got up and stepped behind her, my lips nearly touching her ear. I thought about slipping my arms around her waist but I’d rather not tempt her into breaking my nose or something.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“You can’t just bottle things up inside. One day, that bottle will shatter, and that’s when everything goes to shit.” I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning against the counter as she made pancakes. “And I’d hate to see the same thing happen to you that happened to me.”

Suddenly, she pointed her spatula at me like it was a weapon. “Listen to me,” she hissed. “I’m never going to turn into you.”

“There’s a thin line between good and bad, Cassandra,” I whispered. “There’s plenty of good people who do bad things.”

“Well, I’m not one of them,” she said, ever so stubborn.

“Alright. If you say so.” I shrugged my shoulders. With nothing else to do, I grabbed a few plates, setting the table.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Thought I would help. Do you want to shoot me for that too?”

She looked at me for a long while but then went back to cooking, stacking the pancakes onto a plate.

When she was done, Kimmy walked in just on time, dressed in her school uniform. “Mmm! Pancakes!” she squealed. “My favorite!” Excitedly, she sat down beside me, unable to keep still. “Mmm,” she mused with fork and knife already in hand.

I envied her innocence.