The Fall(37)
Not what I was expecting.
Ejecting from the car, I grabbed the kid’s backpack and climbed the two stairs to the front door. I was already pissed off I’d agreed to do this job in the first place, but keeping up appearances could only help my cause. After all, someone had to know I was involved; the Audi wasn’t a coincidence. So eyes were on me whether I wanted them or not, and how I used those eyes is what was important moving forward.
“Hello?” A thin brunette answered the door, her face made up like she was about to head out to a fancy dinner. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Kerry?” I looked down at the note dumbass had stuffed into the backpack with the address.
“Sure am.” Her red painted lips spread into a smile. “Brendon send you?” Her eyes dropped down to the bag in my hand.
“Yep, sure did. I believe this is yours.” My hand lifted, passing her the bag.
“Our son must have left it behind when he was with his dad.” She winked as she accepted the backpack. “Danny is always forgetting things.”
On cue, a kid who looked around three years old came running to the door. “Mommy! Is it Daddy?”
His eyes were almost too big for his face, but they were the same shade of blue as the lowlife I’d just left.
And that right there was proof you didn’t have to be smart to be someone’s parent. I honestly felt sorry for the kid, because with the kind of parents he had, he probably wouldn’t stand a chance. That was assuming he didn’t find either mommy’s or daddy’s drugs beforehand and end up a statistic. Or a corpse. I’d seen it happen before, and not as rare as people thought.
“Yeah, well enjoy.” I waved goodbye as I turned to leave.
If I were halfway decent, I might have gotten involved. Said something and tried to give the kid a fighting chance. But I doubted there had ever been any decency in me to start with. I guess that I was even thinking about it meant I wasn’t totally heartless, and wasn’t that a f*cking revelation. But that mess wasn’t my problem, which is why I was f*cking walking away.
“Wait,” Kerry AKA Mother of the Year called after me. “You could come inside if you want. Danny is due for a nap.” Her hands moved suggestively up my arms and I knew exactly what was on her mind.
I hadn’t had sex in a week, so the idea of relieving some of that pressure sounded appealing. But I’d rather stick my dick into a garbage compactor than stick it in her.
“Why don’t you go back inside and take care of your boy,” I hissed out through my clenched teeth. “I’ve got shit to do and none of it involves you.”
“Asshole.” Her hand flew at my face, but I grabbed it before it could make contact.
“Yes, yes I am,” I sneered at her, my voice barely a growl. “And you were about to let this * around your kid. Not very smart. There are lots of *s out there just like me waiting for bitches like you to let us into their homes. Get close to their kids. And newsflash, they aren’t going to play nice.”
My words were like a slap to the face she hadn’t given me, her feet taking a step back into her doorway. I wasn’t sure if it was for her own self-preservation or that of her kid, but something must have kicked in as she braced herself against the doorjamb.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I laughed as I turned my back for a second time and walked away from her.
Too bad her change of heart would only be temporary and probably by dinnertime she would be so high she’d forget to feed her kid. Still, saying anything at all was more than I usually did, but it was as involved as I was going to allow myself.
Shit. Even just thinking about it was weird, like I had developed a case of reverse Stockholm syndrome. Nope, not a good thing and I didn’t like where it could lead.
Life was all about survival of the fittest and I had my own ass to worry about. And yet . . . something deep inside of me really hoped that kid made it out of here alive.
After he’d left, I got up and located my things. I hadn’t explored the bathroom when I came into the room last night. The door on the far side of the room could have been anything, but I was relieved to hear water running when Michael had been in there. The idea of a shower washing away yesterday almost made me want to cry with relief.
I didn’t waste any time, cranking the hot water till I was almost positive it was going to peel the first layer of epidermis from my shoulders. And it felt so good, the steam surrounding me with the only sound being that of the thunderous spray hitting the tile.
It was heaven, and I could have stayed inside the stall forever, but I didn’t. I used whatever products Michael had—shampoo, but no conditioner—and went through the process—at least physically—of getting clean. My mind however was still the same muddy mess it had been last night.
He had walked in and unapologetically climbed into bed with me. I had wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and hopefully pretend that the nightmare wasn’t real, something that was going to be hard to do when one of the main cast members was lying beside you. But to my amazement, it hadn’t been as bad as I’d expected. Not that I would admit it to anyone—I was barely able to admit it to myself—but having him there actually calmed me. By his own admission he wasn’t a nice person; no doubt he’d done a lot of terrible things, but as he laid beside me, inches away, I felt safe. Instinctively I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.