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The room is dusky, only lit by the little light that shines through the kitchen doorway, but I still see the pained gleam in her eyes. I’m surprised when she crouches before me, her gaze searching. I don’t know for what. Something I’m sure I can’t give her anyway.
“If I give myself to you… if I let you have… this—” She swallows hard and gestures to her chest. “Is that what you want? Will you leave us alone then?”
My heart makes a leap that feels totally unhealthy. Up my throat and then hitting my stomach like a rock.Fuck, Ker…Like I predicted. What I can’t give her anyway. I don’t know if that should surprise me, or not, but I realize I’m not the tiniest bit interested in her whoring herself out. That’s not what I’ve been looking for.
“Ker—” My voice doesn’t quite carry the words. “Don’t offer your body to me. That’s just fucking sick.”
“But…” Her eyes fill with tears and her chin trembles. “What do you want, then? How can I—” She gets up and takes a step back. “What do you want to leave us alone? Money?” She doesn’t scream, but her whisper is terse and her posture stiff.
“Go back to sleep, Ker,” I say, tired to the bone.
“I—I can’t… Not with you in the house.”
“So stay awake.”
Silence builds between us until she suddenly bursts into tears. Her shoulders shake as she turns her back to me and starts toward the bedroom. I feel like I should say something to make it better, but what she wants I can’t offer. In fact, I’m not sure I could get away even if I wanted to leave. It’s too fucking windy out there, straight out dangerous.
The door closes behind her with a soft click. She looked so small, so sad and worn. I have to fight myself to not go after her and crush her to my chest.
Twenty-Six
Kerry
Istill can’t sleep. Instead I cry. How can there be so many tears? Where do they all come from?
I’m awake when the scream pierces the room. She isn’t awake, really, she’s just dreaming. I pick her up and tuck her in next to me. Her squirming little body stills almost immediately. I jerk when the couch is moved again and the door flies open the moment after.
“What the fuck’s going on? What are you doing?”
I glare at the black silhouette in the doorway. “Nothing’s going on,” I snarl. “Go away.” I pull Cece a little closer and make sure the blanket covers both of us up to our noses.
“Why did she scream?” The room is dark, but I can sense his suspicion. As he takes a step inside the room my heart rate picks up.
“She always does that. Nothing happened. She’s sleeping.” My voice is raw and my throat dry, barely carrying the words I whisper in the dark.
“Why does she do that? You mean she just screams… for no reason?”
I roll my eyes. “Christian, she’s a baby. They do that. Now get the hell out of my room.”
Just as I say it, I realize I feel a little safer than before. I’ve done everything. I’ve hurt him—badly—I’m still alive. I even offered myself to him. The look of disgust he gave me, as if he rejected the offer from a whore, lingers as if a layer of dirt covers me. I still can’t figure out what he wants, but I don’t feel an imminent threat to our lives anymore. I hug Cece tighter, taking comfort in her slowly rising and sinking chest.
He glares at me, then his gaze wanders the room, as if searching for something suspicious-looking. Finding nothing of interest, he closes the door again and shoves the couch into place. I sigh with relief.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll think of something.
Christian
Last evening has taken its toll. I hurt everywhere, even though it helped that I found some Advil in Ker’s medicine chest. I hold on to them as if my life depends on it. Between my wounded knee and the pounding ache in my shoulder it certainly feels that way.
My brain is working overtime, processing the last day—and night. More has happened in only a few hours than it normally does in a year. Things that mean something, that is. I suddenly have a beautiful little daughter. Well, I knew she existed, but I didn’tknow. She’s fantastic. I would very much like to get to know the little kid. I want to protect her… and I think I can teach her a thing or two. Things she needs to know in order to survive. Things I’m sure her mother can’t possibly know. Wouldn’t want to know, no matter how tough she plays.
I want Cecilia safe, and happy, and I want to be around making sure she is. But I have a strong feeling Kerry won’t consider herself safe—or happy—with me around. It’s an impossible equation and I don’t have a solution. I usually know perfectly well what I’m doing and having no sense of direction makes my head spin. It’s complicated.
When the fuck did my life get complicated?
But I know when. I know exactly when.
‘The name’s Kerry Jackson. She knows things she shouldn’t. Find her and take her out. Do what it is you do best, Christiano.’
