He’s so warm I almost fall asleep standing there.
It takes forty-five minutes to make it to his house. As soon as we walk inside, we come face-to-face with Leo and Melody, who are dressed for the day and heading out. Leo works in some fancy ass restaurant, one that requires he wear a tuxedo, whereas Melody is carrying her backpack full of books for class. It’s all so picture-perfect.
Normal.
Leo eyes us. “Long night? You both look like hell this morning.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Lorenzo asks right away. “Somewhere that doesn’t include talking to me?”
Leo laughs at that, slapping Lorenzo’s shoulder. “But I always have time for my big brother.”
“Go to work,” Lorenzo says. “You get fired, you’re fucked, because I’m not paying for Firecracker’s wining and dining, so all romance will be off.”
“Oohhh,” Melody says, making a face as she grabs Leo’s arm. “You know what no romance means...”
“No pussy?” I guess.
Now Leo makes a face.
“Good,” Lorenzo says. “Maybe then they’ll keep their clothes on and stop playing Slip ‘n Slide on my damn couch all of the time.”
“Speaking of the couch,” Leo chimes in, “you were just kidding, right? You didn’t really steal the new couch from some strip club.”
As soon as he says that, I glance into the living room, seeing a familiar black leather couch with gold accents. Oh god, did he seriously...?
“Do you think I’d really do that?” Lorenzo asks.
“I’m hoping not,” Leo grumbles.
“Go to work,” Lorenzo tells him again before turning to Melody. “And you, go wherever it is you go when you’re not in my house, breathing up all of my oxygen.”
They grumble goodbyes and head out, while Lorenzo stands there, staring at the door, making sure they’re gone before turning to me.
He looks like he has something to say, but I beat him to talking.
“You stole a couch,” I say, “from a strip club.”
“So?”
“So do you know what happens on those couches?”
“Probably the same ooey-gooey shit my brother does on it, but it doesn’t matter. I disinfected it.”
“You disinfected it.”
“Yeah, got a can of Lysol and sprayed the fuck out of the thing.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “I, uh... I’m too tired to think of a response to that.”
“Then come on,” he says, stepping past me. “Let’s go to bed.”
I don’t argue with that. Bed sounds like a beautiful place to be, so I follow him upstairs. As soon as we reach his room, I kick off my shoes and yank off my hoodie, falling into the bed with a sigh, still clutching the damn bear.
Lorenzo strips down to nothing, as usual, before climbing in beside me.
Thirty seconds, if even that. My eyes drift closed, exhaustion taking over. Lorenzo’s already snoring. Sleep hits me hard.
Out like a light.
I don’t know how much time passes before I’m jolted back awake, but my body is sore and the room is dim, growing darker, so I sense it’s late. I slept all damn day. Groggy, rubbing my eyes, I pull myself up to a sit as something falls into my lap.
Buster.
It hits me again then, as I pick up the bear. The pressure in my chest makes me feel like I’m suffocating. My fingers explore the bear’s beat-up face, caressing the filthy fur and shoving stuffing back into the holes.
I wondered if I’d ever see the thing again. I wondered where it ended up and hoped—no, counted on—it being with Sasha. She doesn’t have me, I’m not there to protect her, but I thought she’d at least have her best friend Buster.
She doesn’t, though.
She’s all alone.
So am I.
In the literal sense, on my part.
Lorenzo’s not here.
I reach over, running my palm along the cold sheets. He’s been gone so long that the bed’s no longer warm.
Sighing, I get up, trudging over to the closet to pull out my duffel bag that’s tucked in the back, along the bottom. I shift through it, grabbing the small black cell phone, plugging it into the charger using the wall socket as I sit down on the floor.
After a few minutes, as I hold onto the bear, the phone powers up, coming to life again. There are only a few numbers programmed into it, and I hit the button to call the top one, bringing it to my ear.
It rings a few times, as I inwardly panic, a voice in my head screaming for me to hang up right the fuck now, but the devil on my shoulder isn’t having that. The line picks up, a voice calmly greeting me, the Russian accent still thick despite him living in America for years. “I have been waiting for you to call.”
He knows it’s me. I’m not sure how. I keep my number blocked for this reason, but yet somehow, he always knows.
I don’t say anything.
I can’t find the words.
My voice doesn’t want to work.
I used to have a lot to say, but my pleas always fell upon deaf ears, so I rarely say anything anymore. I just sit, and I listen, hoping one of these times he’ll say something of value, that he’ll slip up and I’ll hear her in the background.
It has never happened.
These calls used to be as frequent as the visits to the precinct, but trying to rationalize with Kassian is a lost cause. It’s like trying to civilize a caveman. No matter what I say, it’s never enough to get him to act human for just a moment and let me talk to my daughter.
He’s never even acknowledged to me that he has her.
The sound of his voice makes my insides ache, but I shove the feelings down and absorb every syllable he’s willing to offer, like maybe this is all a riddle that I can eventually solve.
“Did you enjoy your present? I know Christmas was months ago, but it is better late than never, no?” There’s a lightness to his tone, like he’s amused by all of this. “I am assuming your scarred plaything gave it to you, since you are calling... unless you are simply missing me today.”
I stretch my legs out along the floor, Buster lying in my lap, as I rest my head back against the wall.
I still say nothing.
“It is a shame about the condition of the bear,” he says. “I had to teach a lesson on obedience. I am sure you remember those. We had so many of them, you and I, but you... you never did learn. No matter how many times I showed you, you still thought you could have things your way. But I, of course, had to get creative this time, since I could not teach her things the way I taught you.”
He laughs, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, while I grow dizzy, the room starting to spin.
I have to close my eyes.
“I miss your lessons,” he says, sounding almost wistful. “Striping you bare, fucking you raw, letting them all watch. Do you remember? The way they would fall all over themselves to see you, hoping I was in a generous mood and would let them have a taste. Do you miss that? You can admit it. I will not tell anyone. I will not tell them how much of a good girl you used to be, how you would cry so quietly, so not to disturb them when they took turns—”
“Stop.” My voice cracks as that word forces itself from my lips, tears stinging my eyes. “Just... stop.”
“Aw, pussycat, are you crying now?”