“It’s okay,” I tell him, so he’ll stop stammering, before motioning to Sasha. “Come here, sunshine.”
She approaches, and I kneel beside her. She eyes Lorenzo suspiciously, looking up at him, while he stares down at her like he thinks she might bite. They’re both damn nervous. It’s kind of cute.
I mean, there’s a chance one (or both) of them might freak the fuck out any second, but still... cute.
“Sasha, this is Mommy’s friend, Lorenzo. He helped me when I was looking for you, helped me find you.”
“And did surgery on Buster?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah, he’s the one who sewed up our Buster,” I say. “That was nice of him, wasn’t it?”
She nods.
“And Lorenzo, this is—”
“Your little Scarlet Letter,” he says.
“Uh, yeah, that’s one way to put it,” I say with a laugh. “You said you wanted to know what a mini-me was like, so here she is.”
Neither of them says anything right away.
They just stare at each other. Assessing.
It’s like they’re sizing one another up, getting a read on the competition, gauging whether or not they’ll be willing to share my attention. I’m not at all surprised when it’s Sasha that cracks first, but the words that fly from her lips nearly knock me on my ass.
“How did your face get all hurt?”
She points at him, right at his face, at his scar.
Lorenzo blinks at her.
Oh god.
“Sasha, baby, you know we don’t—”
“It’s fine,” Lorenzo says, cutting me off, his gaze on her. “You want to know what happened to me?”
She slowly nods before cutting her eyes at me, like she’s worried I’m going to be mad. Not him, no... she’s not worried about him. If she were, she wouldn’t have asked that. I’m the scariest one in the room, apparently.
Lorenzo hesitates, like he’s considering how to answer, or even if he still wants to answer. But eventually, he says, “I got hurt a long time ago by a very bad man.”
“What kind of bad man?” she asks.
“The kind that liked to call himself my dad.”
Her eyes widen. “My daddy is mean, too.”
“I know,” Lorenzo says. “I’m glad he never hurt you like I got hurt. I tried to make it so he couldn’t.”
She processes that, her brow furrowing, before she says, “Will your face get all better?”
He shakes his head. “It’s stuck like this.”
“Does it hurt?”
I see Lorenzo’s cheek twitch.
I think maybe he’s done entertaining questions, but he answers before I can chime in.
“Sometimes,” he admits. “The eye hurts. It doesn’t really work anymore.”
“It got broken?”
“Yes.”
I’m not sure if she understands the concept, since his eye is still there. It still blinks and moves, looking pretty normal except for the lighter coloring.
She frowns, but it only lasts for a moment before her expression brightens. She holds up her bear, as if he’s never seen it before. “Maybe you can give yourself surgery like Buster! His eye got broken, too.”
“I think that’s enough for now, sunshine,” I say, squeezing her in a hug before standing back up. “Go ahead to the kitchen and find something to drink. You can have anything but the rum.”
Leo laughs from the hallway.
She starts to leave when Lorenzo clears his throat.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sasha,” he says.
“You, too, Mommy’s friend,” she calls back as she runs out of the library.
Sasha. He called her Sasha.
He used her name.
My eyes sting. I can feel the tears welling up. There’s a lump in my throat that’s getting harder and harder to swallow down.
As soon as she’s gone, Lorenzo looks at me. “I swear to fuck, Scarlet, if you start crying right now, I’m going to throw you out of my goddamn house.”
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“Don’t apologize to me.”
“Ugh, okay. I’m not.” I try to shake it off, clearing my throat. “That was just really nice of you. I didn’t expect you to be so...”
“Nice?” he guesses. “I’m not an asshole, you know. Well, I am, but not that much of one. I was a kid once. I remember what it was like when adults were assholes. I’m not going to do that to her. Besides, she’s yours, so I didn’t really expect her to make this shit easy for me. Her mother sure as fuck doesn’t.”
No, I guess I don’t.
Pausing, I reach up, pressing my palm to his cheek again. He grimaces but doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away, although I can tell part of him wants to. “Do you, uh...?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you at least like The Force Awakens?”
He stares at me. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Wait, what? How can you call yourself a fan if you haven’t even seen the new movie?”
“I’ve been a bit busy lately,” he says. “Dealing with you has taken up a lot of my free time.”
“Oh, whatever. That’s bullshit. You had enough free time to put together a gazillion piece puzzle. You’ve got time to watch a movie, and you know it. I’m just... I’m ashamed of you. Legitimately ashamed.”
“I’m guessing it’s good, then?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I shrug. “I haven’t watched it. Been too busy.”
Lorenzo pulls my hand away from his face and laughs.
Genuinely laughs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The seven deadly sins and I are on a first-name basis.
Gluttony. I don’t deny myself anything.
Greed. I want it all, everything there is.
Pride. I’m full of it, every inch of me.
Sloth. I’m a lazy son of a bitch.
Wrath. I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.
Lust. Pretty sure this one goes without question.
Last but not least, the one they call ‘envy’. I don’t find myself feeling jealous very often, not anymore, but as I stand in the doorway to my living room, staring at the little girl asleep on my couch, I feel a twinge of it. At barely three-feet tall, not even forty pounds, she’s tiny, but something about her just fills the room, like her personality can’t fit in that minuscule body.
She’s just like her mother. It’s eerie.
I know what you’re probably thinking: this dumb son of a bitch is jealous of a five-year-old. And you’d be right. But I’m not jealous for the reasons you’re thinking, so knock that shit right out of your mind. It’s got nothing to do with Scarlet.
I’m jealous because the kid’s asleep.
Not just dozed-off, dainty sleep, either. I’m talking sprawled out on her back, hanging halfway off the couch, mouth wide open, snoring and drooling kind of sleep, the kind where you can shake her and she’s not waking up.
The kid is practically comatose.
I’ve never slept like that in my life.
Just one night of that sleep would probably cure me of every problem I have. I’d wake up the next morning feeling like Mr. Rogers, welcoming motherfuckers to my neighborhood.
“I should probably get going,” Scarlet says. “Get her to bed... it’s been a long day.”
“No, stay!” Melody says right away. “I mean, I know it’s not my house or anything, but it’s so late, and she’s already asleep... there’s no reason to drag her out of here right now, right?” She looks to Leo. “Right?”
Leo shrugs. “It’s not my house, either.”