Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(47)

“You look gorgeous,” I say, because it’s true. The girl is stunning. “What’s the occasion?”

“Leo’s taking me out to celebrate,” she says. “It’s our met-iversary.”

“Yeah? How’d you meet?”

“I was walking through the park one afternoon when the beat of an old Tupac song greeted my ears, playing from his phone. It was love at first sound. I mean, of course it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous. Whoa... second I saw him, I was his. To paraphrase the late great—it was just like Aladdin, bitch... would’ve given him anything he asked for.”

I laugh. “That’s cute. You two... you’re cute.”

“Right? I think so, too.” She grins, leaning against the doorframe. “So, what about you and Lorenzo? What’s the story? Where’d you meet?”

“I thought he told you the story.”

“All I know is you pulled a Cinderella on him,” she says. “He’s not exactly known for offering details.”

“Ah, yeah… we met at a shitty little bar.”

“Drunken hook-up?”

“More like a serious lapse in judgment.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh no, regrets?”

“About him? No.” I stretch my bare legs out along the cold wood. I’m sitting on the floor beside the bed, my back against the wall as my phone charges, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt and underwear. Doesn’t bother me, and it doesn’t seem to bother Melody, either, my almost nakedness, so I’m not in a rush to do anything about it. “I misjudged him, figured he was just like all the others I’ve met, so I took his wallet home from the bar instead of him.”

Thought it was impossible, but her eyes somehow widen even more. “What?”

“I pick-pocketed him. He caught me, though, put me through some hell for it, but it worked out, I guess, since he eventually took me home with him.”

“That’s... wow.”

“So no, I don’t regret it, but man, how stupid was I, thinking I’d get away with that?”

She shakes her head, pushing away from the door. “You’re a brave, brave soul, Morgan, a braver soul than I. First time I met Lorenzo, I was afraid to even go near him.”

“Because of his scar?”

She scoffed. “No, because of how he looks at people, namely how he looked at me.”

“How’s that?”

“Like I’m Tupac and he’s Biggie.”

“Ah, like you might be his enemy.”

I know that look.

He has given it to me a time or two.

It’s not even really a look of anger. It’s a blank stare, devoid of everything imaginable, like he’s trapped in his head somewhere. Cold, and calculating, like he’s plotting how to remove you from his life. Nothing personal about it, just bitch, be gone...

“Bingo! That’s the one!” She smiles again, turning around. “Anyway, Leo should be home soon to pick me up, so off I go to await my chariot.”

“Have fun,” I call out. “Happy anniversary.”

She goes downstairs, and I sit here for a moment before picking up my phone. There are only a few minutes of airtime left on it, maybe ten at most, which means I either need to refill it soon or buy another in order to continue this tiresome routine.

I don’t want to do either option. Last time I bought minutes, I vowed that was it... I would have my daughter back before I ran out of time again.

I want this to be over.

Why isn’t it over yet?

Sighing, I dial the number, bringing the phone to my ear, listening as it rings and rings and rings, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind that begs me to hang up. After the fifth ring, he finally answers, greeting me. “Ah, pretty girl, I was just talking about you.”

“I bet.”

“I was,” he says. “No more than an hour ago. All good things, of course. I would never say a bad word about you. Promises.”

“Yeah, right.”

He laughs. “That is twice now you have spoken, pussycat. You must be feeling chatty today.”

I say nothing, tilting my head, tucking the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I pick the polish from my fingernails. I can tell he’s in a good mood for some reason, which tends to be terrifying with Kassian, but then again, it might be my chance to weasel something out of him.

When he’s in a good mood, he gets sentimental, and he used to open up to me. Sadly, though, it was also those moments when I learned what a cruel, disturbing man he could be.

“Ah, do not go mute on me now,” Kassian says. “Tell me what is on your mind.”

“I’m just... tired,” I admit. “I’m so tired of doing this with you. It’s exhausting. It’s almost been a year.”

“I know,” he says. “I am tired, too. I have been chasing you for a long time, pretty girl.”

“Too long,” I whisper.

“Too long,” he agrees. “Tell me, are you happy?”

I don’t answer that.

I’m not sure why he’s asking.

He’s never cared about my happiness before.

“Are you?” he asks again. “You can tell me. I would like to know. Are you happy with your life?”