He stared at her for a moment longer before his expression cracked. His lips twitched with a hint of a smile. “You think she is looking for you? That someday you will hear, ‘Knock-knock, kitten, Mommy is here’?
The little girl nodded again, earning an annoyed growl, his fist slamming against the bar so hard her bowl bounced, some of the porridge splattering out.
“Words.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He laughed again, that mean laugh now.
“I hope you do hear it,” he said. “I hope she crawls out of the Hell she is in and comes for you, kitten. I would enjoy watching that happen.”
He ruffled the top of her head, still laughing as he walked away, leaving her with the porridge she didn’t want and an answer she couldn’t understand.
Did that mean she wasn’t coming?
Chapter Twenty
The first thing I hear, when I open my front door, is that fucking song from that goddamn movie.
You know what I’m talking about. You might have even guessed it already. The one about the big ass boat and the iceberg, with the rich bitch and gutter rat making googly eyes at each other. Draw me like your French whores, asshole. I’ll never let go. Blah blah blah.
Yeah, that one.
Saturday night—or well, guess it’s Sunday morning now, isn’t it? A few minutes past midnight. Leo is here somewhere with Melody. I know this, because she’s singing along, like this is Karaoke Hour on the RMS Titanic.
Sighing, I step out of the way for Scarlet to enter, wanting to smash my head into the wall in hopes that maybe I’ll go unconscious and won’t have to hear this for a second longer. Scarlet strolls right to the living room, stopping in the doorway, looking in.
After shutting the door, I join her.
They’re cuddling on my couch, my brother and his girlfriend, all tangled up together with a big blanket covering them. I’m not sure if they’re dressed, to be honest. Wouldn’t be the first time they fucked on my couch, just like this, watching some sappy love story.
I think it’s a kink.
Some people like spanking.
Others like voyeurism.
My brother likes to fuck his girlfriend as she sobs over fictional characters.
Me? I like a little bit of everything… with the exception of that last one. Stick a finger in my ass all you want, but the second you start boo-hoo’ing, I’m done.
They don’t pay us any attention, and I’m not even trying to interrupt whatever that is. Nudging Scarlet for her to follow me, I head to my library. I walk right in, but she hesitates before crossing the threshold.
“Shut the door,” I tell her, plopping down in my chair. “Maybe it’ll muffle the sound of that dying cat out there.”
Scarlet laughs, shutting the door. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Could be worse,” I say. “I could muffle her with a pillow, but I won’t. Don’t I get credit for that?”
“Nice try, but no,” she says, approaching. “You don’t get points for not killing your brother’s girlfriend when the only thing she’s guilty of is being a terrible singer.”
“She’s so damn emotional, and she’s always just… peppy.”
Scarlet gasps with mock horror. “How horrible!”
“Fuck you,” I mutter. “It’s exhausting to be around.”
“She’s still young.”
“She’s the same age as you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly normal,” she says. “I was forced to grow up quick when I was just a kid. But her? I imagine she’s had a normal life. Well, until you came into it, so cut her some slack.”
“I do,” I say. “She’s still breathing, isn’t she? Still out there singing. Still hanging around, eating my groceries, watching my television, getting her pussy played with in my house.”
Scarlet leans against the table beside me, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest. “You’ll probably be saying all that about me… eating your food, using your electricity, showering with your hot water—”
“Getting your pussy played with?”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it.
I grab her hips, pulling her between my legs. “Look, all I’m saying is if you’re going to sing, do that shit silently so nobody has to listen to it.”
She laughs, her hands on my shoulders. “Should we talk silently, too, so you don’t have to listen to that, either?”
“Preferably,” I say. “Unless it’s dirty talk, in which case, I’m more than happy to hear you.”
“Wow,” she says, voice flat. “You keep being so charming and I might start catching feelings.”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” I say. “Just, you know, keep them to yourself, in case they’re contagious.”
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I practice safe sentiment. I’ll be sure to wrap it before I yap it.”
I laugh at that. This goddamn woman. She’s got a mouth on her, without a doubt, the kind of mouth that’s destined to get her in a lot of trouble in life.
Already has, it seems.
Aristov, he’s the kind of guy who likes to break wild horses, and Scarlet is one of the most strong-willed I’ve ever encountered. She might not be broken, but it wouldn’t take much more, not with the way she buckles when it comes to him.
It’s uncharacteristic.
Sure, I haven’t known her long.
But she doesn’t flinch from me.
I don’t scare her.
So why does he?
My eyes narrow slightly, and damn if she doesn’t notice, because I see her stiffen in response to it.
“Tell me about Aristov.”
Her expression blanks. There she goes, trying to fade on me, shutting down.
“I’ve already told you about him,” she says. “He’s a cruel man.”
“One that stole from you.”
“Yes.”
“He stole the light from your life,” I say, recalling her words. “He stole your innocence.”
Her eyes close. It’s automatic. She can’t even look at me when I say that. When she reopens them, they’re glassy, but she doesn’t shed a single tear.
I’ve yet to see her cry.
“Yes.”
That’s all she says.
Since she’s not elaborating on her own, fuck it... I’m going to ask. “How?”
It’s a simple question, but I know right away she’s not going to answer it. Her hands leave my shoulders and she steps back, out of my grasp, as she forces a smile on her lips, the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.
“I stink,” she says. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”
“Of course not,” I say, waving her away. “Help yourself to whatever. It’ll take me at least two weeks to start complaining about you, so make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” she says, turning to walk out of the library. “I make no promises when it comes to singing in the shower, though. Sometimes I just can’t help myself.”
“Make that one week, then,” I call after her. “I’ll start complaining by next weekend, so enjoy these next few days.”
She laughs, disappearing from the room.
I stare at the doorway once she’s gone, drumming my fingers on the arm of the chair. She evaded like a motherfucker. She wasn’t even trying to be sly about it. She just flat out wasn’t answering.
Shoving up from the chair, I stroll out of the library, making my way into the kitchen for something to eat. There’s not much in here, so I just grab two slices of bread, pull out some lunch meat, and slap that shit together with a dab of mustard. Viola.
I take a bite, chewing, as I grab a Capri Sun from the fridge and walk out. My sandwich gets smashed as I stroll back down the hall, so busy tearing the plastic off of the small yellow straw that I almost drop it all.
“Hey, bro.”
I stop near the living room when Leo greets me. I look up at him before glancing into the room. Melody isn’t singing anymore, thank fuck. “Hey.”
“So that lady,” Leo says. “Morgan.”