“She will,” he shouts.
I take another step back.
“I’m sorry.” He crouches a little like he used to do when I was younger and scared of an injured animal. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. You don’t get to use cute names for me anymore.”
His mouth closes.
Only Mav calls me sweet things like that now.
He calls me Pickle-la and littleDon.
My chest hurts.
“My daddy is gonna come get us,” I say.
Rory freezes.
The whole basement feels colder.
“What did you say?”
I lift my chin, even though my eyes are burning.
“My daddy is gonna come get us.”
Rory stands slowly.
“He’s not your daddy.”
“He is.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“He’s gonna be.”
Rory’s face changes in a way I don’t understand.
“He doesn’t want you.”
I blink.
For a second, the words don’t make sense.
Because that’s stupid.
Mav wants me.
He said so.
He said if me and Mama became his, his protection would be absolute. I didn’t know what absolute meant at first, but Mama explained it means all the way.
Mav loves us all the way.
Rory takes another step toward me.
“Maverick is the reason you’re here, Livy.”
