Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(79)

“You’re so good to me,” I told him.

He reached up to untie my wrists, kissing me softly all over my face as he did so.

He had me untied and cradled into his chest in swift moments. I cuddled into the soft silken fabric of his shirt, too tired to even try to get him naked.

I was just on the edge of sleep when I felt him shift. “Love, I promised Stephan you would call and text him before you went to bed. He wanted to make sure your night went alright. Don’t drift off. I’m going to find your phone.”

I quickly found I had to sit up to stay awake as James disappeared into his closet. He re-emerged in short order, stripped down to his boxer-briefs, and carrying my phone. He maneuvered himself behind me on the bed, pulling me between his legs as I checked my phone. I had several texts from Stephan, asking how I was, and I texted him back that everything was fine and I would see him in the morning.

I checked my phone log next. I had missed three more calls from the strange 702 number, and my brows drew together as I saw that the caller had left a voicemail this time. That was new. I found myself clicking the play button and holding my phone to my ear before I thought better of it. I should have waited until morning, but something about the strange caller and number was nagging at me. If it was my father, I’d just as soon know right away, instead of worrying about it all night.

The voicemail was just silence at first, with the slightest hint of background noise, soft soothing music playing, just like in the phone calls. But eventually a harried female voice began to speak haltingly.

There was a familiar paranoid fear in her voice, though I didn’t recognize the voice itself at all.

“Bianca Karlsson. This is, um, this is Sharon.” A long pause. “Sharon Karlsson.” My entire body went still as a corpse and the hair on the back of my neck prickled with a warning. “I’m…married to your father. I, well, I guess that I’m your stepmother. I really need to speak to you. Your father always forbade me from trying to contact you. He would never say why, but, well, um, he’s disappeared. He’s been gone for over a month with no word, and I’m pretty sure he’s gone for good this time. So I would really appreciate it if you would meet with me. Please call me back as soon as you can.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

My hand dropped into my lap still holding the phone.

“What is it?” James asked, apparently not overhearing the strange message. I didn’t answer, my mind busy worrying over the bizarre development of my father having a wife.

James took the phone out of my hand, and I watched him retrace my steps and hold the phone up to his own ear to listen to my message.

Nosy, rich bastard, I thought, almost fondly.

His brow furrowed as he listened to the strange message. He reached over to put my phone on the bedside table, then came close to cuddle me against him.

“I don’t like this. If you decide to meet with her, it should be in public, and make sure you have at least two bodyguards with you. Promise me, Love.”

I nodded absently, nowhere near keeping up with his train of thought, my mind still obsessing over the strange knowledge that my father had remarried. When? Why? Did he treat this strange woman better than he had my poor abused mother? The woman was alive, so clearly he did.

In spite of my body’s exhaustion, my mind became too busy for sleep after that. James cleaned us both, even wiping away my makeup before turning out the lights and spooning in behind me. His presence was soothing, but I still worried over the surprising news for a long time before finally drifting into a restless sleep.

I was in that house again. I lay in my hard, tiny bed. I was hugging my knees to my chest, rocking and rocking, and trying to ignore the harsh shouts just a few thin walls away. If I stayed in my room, it would all go away. They would forget I was even here and in the morning my Dad would sleep all day and leave us in peace so I could tend to my Mother.

But that wasn’t meant to be. Not this time. The yelling grew louder, my mothers turning into terrified screams.

When I couldn’t stand the horrible noises a moment longer, I crept quietly through the house to investigate. In spite of my overwhelming fear, my need to at least attempt to aid my mother almost always thrust me into the violent thick of things.

I looked down at my thin bare feet, wishing I knew where some clean socks were. I was so cold, an achy kind of cold, down to my very soul.

My parents were speaking in Swedish, and I pieced together some hysterical words as I got closer to the kitchen where they fought. “No, no, no. Please, Sven, put that away.”

My father’s voice was an angry roar. “You’ve ruined my life. You and that brat. I’ve lost everything because of you. My fortune, my inheritance, and now, my luck. You’ve taken everything from me, just by living. Tell me why I shouldn’t take everything from you, you silly cunt?”

“When you’re sober, you’ll regret it. We have a child together, Sven. Please, just go to sleep. If you sleep on it, you’ll feel better.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do! Fuck sleep. Fuck you. And f**k that little brat. Look at her, hovering in the door, frozen like a little mouse.” His cold eyes went to me.

I was frozen in place, as he’d said. He changed his tone when he spoke to me, and it turned into a mockery of a gentle tone. “Why don’t you join us, sotnos? Come be with your pretty Mama.”