Not Mommy.
The Cowardly Lion stood on the pathway in front of her. He looked angry, not very cowardly anymore. He glared past her, at where the Tin Man still stood. “What are you doing?”
“She wanted her mother,” the Tin Man said, “so we are waiting for her to come home.”
That answer didn’t make the Cowardly Lion any happier. “You know damn well her mother isn’t living here.”
The Tin Man said nothing.
The little girl glanced back at him. What did that mean? “Where’s Mommy? Why doesn’t she live here?”
“Look what you have done,” the Tin Man said, his gaze fixed to the Cowardly Lion. “You have gone and upset her.”
“This is not me,” the Cowardly Lion said. “What you are doing here is cruel, Kassian.”
“Her mother is the one that moved on. She is the one with a new life in the city, one without her daughter... new friends, new lover, new everything, and no Sasha.”
The little girl frantically shook her head. “No, Mommy wouldn’t do that.”
The Tin Man looked at her. “Your mother is gone, kitten. I have tried to find her, but she does not want to be found. She is the one hiding now. But you do not like me. You do not like my home. So here you are, where there is nobody to care for you.”
He shoved away from the house, stepping off the porch, pausing in front of the Cowardly Lion.
“Do something with her,” the Tin Man said, “since you cannot ever seem to find her bitch mother. Do you think you can handle that much, Markel?”
The Cowardly Lion stared him in the face, saying nothing.
The Tin Man shoved against him, knocking him out of the way as he headed to his car.
The little girl got to her feet to follow, tears falling down her cheeks. “Wait, Daddy!”
He shook his head as he turned to her, holding up a hand. “No, this is what you wanted. You thanked me for it. You are just like her. I hope you are happy. No Mommy. No Buster. And now, no me. No home. No love. No food. So good luck, my kitten, with nothing.”
The little girl stood there, crying, as he drove away. She should be happy the Tin Man was gone, shouldn’t she? So why did her insides feel so empty?
“Do not cry, sweet girl,” the Cowardly Lion said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You will be okay.”
Chapter Twenty
The phone drops to the coffee table with a thud.
I stare at it as the screen goes dark, my fingers itching to reach for it, but I don’t move. Legs pulled up, arms around them, chin resting on my knees, I just sit here on the floor near Kassian’s chair, right by his feet, where he used to always make me sit.
Easy access, he says.
Always within arm’s reach.
His hand presses against my hair, smoothing it, petting me, absently twirling strands around his fingers. My scalp tingles, even though I wish it wouldn’t. I want no part of me to ever react to any part of him, but it’s unconscious. I can’t stop it. The nerve endings are traitorous, sparking from the gentle touch, no matter how cruel the man attached to those hands may be.
It makes me sick to the stomach.
Or sicker, rather.
His phone call with Lorenzo was enough to make me want to throw up.
“It will not be long now,” Kassian says, his voice low. “The fun will soon begin.”
I shake my head, whispering, “He’s not coming.”
“You do not think so?”
“He’s smarter than that,” I say. “He’s not going to show up here just because you suggested it.”
“Oh, I think you are wrong. In fact, I think he is already on his way. Maybe not for the money. Maybe not for you. But he will come, because he is not the type to turn down an invitation, and we both know that, pretty girl. He will show his ugly face soon.”
The more he speaks, the more his grip on me tightens, the tingles replaced with pain as he tangles his fingers through my hair, fisting a handful. I wince as he tugs my head back, straining my neck, forcing me to look up at him.
“But maybe you are right,” he says. “You will be lucky if he does not show. Because when he gets here, the first thing I am going to do is fuck you. Right here, like we used to, right where everyone can watch. I might even let him join, let him take you one last time, kill him while he is deep inside of that sweet pussy. Would you like that, suka? Being the last thing he ever does?”
I don’t respond. I don’t react.
Man, that makes him mad.
His cheek twitches. He shoves me away, nearly knocking my head into the table from the force of it as he slouches in his chair. I rub my sore scalp from where he pulled my hair, my face flushing when I glance around the room.
Everybody’s watching us.
Watching me, rather.
Before I can dwell on it, I hear the front door open. The alarm is disabled as a thick accent echoes through the foyer. “Vor!”
Markel.
I tense, hearing a struggle, a scuffle, before Markel appears in the doorway. He’s not alone, though, and parts of me viciously twist at the recognition, as Markel drags another guy with him. Declan.
“Ah, Mr. Jackson! How nice of you to join us!” Kassian waves into the room. “Have a seat. We were just waiting for your boss to make an appearance.”
Declan struggles as Markel shoves him further into the room. His lip is busted, bleeding, the side of his face swollen. He fought, hard, but you can’t tell it looking at Markel. He’s all put together.
Well, except for his eye—still swollen and bloodshot, a milky haze coating it. Oops.
He shoves Declan down onto the couch across from me, his eyes on my face. I can feel his gaze, even after I look away, my attention returning to Kassian’s phone, discarded on the table just inches away. My heart is racing like a jackhammer, banging against my bruised ribcage.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I whisper when Kassian’s hand weasels its way back into my hair.
“No,” Kassian says, barely paying me any attention as he snatches up a bottle of vodka from the table.
“I’ll make it fast,” I tell him. “I promise.”
He ignores me, drinking, his eyes fixed on Declan.
“Kassian, I really have to pee.”
My hand slips beneath his pant leg as I shift position, grasping his bare calf. It catches him off guard, me touching him. He reacts instinctively, shoving me off, throwing me right into the small table. I wince, the blow hard enough to rock the flimsy wood, knocking things off. Bottles tip over, and people scramble to grab them before the liquor spills out, while I catch myself on the edge of the table, grabbing the phone and slipping it behind my back.
I’m not wearing much, I know, but you’d be amazed where women can hide things. I slip the small phone right under my arm, tucking it in the band of the black bra, before holding my hands up in front of me defensively.
Kassian glares at me as I shake, genuinely fucking shake, because if he saw what I just did, I’m fucked. Literally, figuratively, every sense of that word and every which way it can happen. Fucked.
“Go,” he says. “Before I change my mind.”