Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(77)

The Tin Man shoved her into his car before getting in, driving away from the big palace as she started crying. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” he said. “That is what you want. You say your home is not with me, that you want your mommy. So fine, I will take you home.”

The little girl started shaking—the good way, this time. Home. She was going home?

“Thank you,” she blurted out. She thought maybe it could be a trick, but she couldn’t help herself.

He cut his eyes at her, his voice quiet as he said, “Anything for you, kitten.”

Half an hour later, they pulled up in front of the familiar house. The little girl hadn’t seen it in so many months, but she recognized it right away. Home. He parked out front and hauled her out of the car, motioning toward the house. “Go on.”

The little girl ran right for it.

She didn’t realize, until she reached the door, that it was all dark inside, no lights on. The Tin Man strolled along behind her, pausing on the porch, leaning against the house as he watched her try to open the front door.

Locked.

The little girl knocked and knocked and knocked, calling out for her mother, but there was no answer. She pounded on it until her fist ached, running around the outside to peek through windows, but she couldn’t see anything.

“She’s not here,” the little girl said, “but she will be, I know it. She’ll come home soon.”

“We will wait,” the Tin Man said, glancing at his watch. “We will stay here as long as it takes.”

The little girl sat down on the porch.

Half an hour turned into an hour, which turned into forever. Hours... and hours... and hours. The little girl shivered, huddling in her shirt, her eyes heavy. So tired.

It was nearing sunrise when she almost fell asleep on the porch, leaning against the thick railing column, letting it support her. Her eyes were closed, resting, when she heard footsteps. Her heart raced, eyes snapping open. Mommy?

Not Mommy.

The Cowardly Lion stood on the pathway in front of her. He looked angry, not very cowardly anymore. He glared past her, at where the Tin Man still stood. “What are you doing?”

“She wanted her mother,” the Tin Man said, “so we are waiting for her to come home.”

That answer didn’t make the Cowardly Lion any happier. “You know damn well her mother isn’t living here.”

The Tin Man said nothing.

The little girl glanced back at him. What did that mean? “Where’s Mommy? Why doesn’t she live here?”

“Look what you have done,” the Tin Man said, his gaze fixed to the Cowardly Lion. “You have gone and upset her.”

“This is not me,” the Cowardly Lion said. “What you are doing here is cruel, Kassian.”

“Her mother is the one that moved on. She is the one with a new life in the city, one without her daughter... new friends, new lover, new everything, and no Sasha.”

The little girl frantically shook her head. “No, Mommy wouldn’t do that.”

The Tin Man looked at her. “Your mother is gone, kitten. I have tried to find her, but she does not want to be found. She is the one hiding now. But you do not like me. You do not like my home. So here you are, where there is nobody to care for you.”

He shoved away from the house, stepping off the porch, pausing in front of the Cowardly Lion.

“Do something with her,” the Tin Man said, “since you cannot ever seem to find her bitch mother. Do you think you can handle that much, Markel?”

The Cowardly Lion stared him in the face, saying nothing.

The Tin Man shoved against him, knocking him out of the way as he headed to his car.

The little girl got to her feet to follow, tears falling down her cheeks. “Wait, Daddy!”

He shook his head as he turned to her, holding up a hand. “No, this is what you wanted. You thanked me for it. You are just like her. I hope you are happy. No Mommy. No Buster. And now, no me. No home. No love. No food. So good luck, my kitten, with nothing.”

The little girl stood there, crying, as he drove away. She should be happy the Tin Man was gone, shouldn’t she? So why did her insides feel so empty?

“Do not cry, sweet girl,” the Cowardly Lion said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You will be okay.”





Chapter Twenty





The phone drops to the coffee table with a thud.

I stare at it as the screen goes dark, my fingers itching to reach for it, but I don’t move. Legs pulled up, arms around them, chin resting on my knees, I just sit here on the floor near Kassian’s chair, right by his feet, where he used to always make me sit.

Easy access, he says.

Always within arm’s reach.

His hand presses against my hair, smoothing it, petting me, absently twirling strands around his fingers. My scalp tingles, even though I wish it wouldn’t. I want no part of me to ever react to any part of him, but it’s unconscious. I can’t stop it. The nerve endings are traitorous, sparking from the gentle touch, no matter how cruel the man attached to those hands may be.

It makes me sick to the stomach.

Or sicker, rather.

His phone call with Lorenzo was enough to make me want to throw up.

“It will not be long now,” Kassian says, his voice low. “The fun will soon begin.”