Hansel, Part Four

by Ella James

  “Jesus, Leah.”

  I frown as the space between my eyebrows starts to throb, and squint until something shiny and brass comes into focus. Oh—a luggage cart. Well, shit.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” asks the uniformed man pushing it.

  “I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Luke’s hands are on my arm. I wrench away from him. Raymond acted standoffish when I called. Now I understand why.

  “They’re not for me.”

  Is she someone on the Dave Thomas committee with him? A beautiful heiress with a heart of gold? Maybe she’s someone local. It’s not that far fetched. Denver’s not that far from Vegas. Could be farther.

  Jealous rage spreads through me like wild fire.

  I dart across the lobby, aiming for some stairs. I hear footsteps right behind me, so I try to speed up. The moment my first foot hits the stairs, firm hands grab me by the hips and spin me around to face him.

  “Let go of me!”

  His mouth opens, like he’s going to say something but isn’t immediately sure what.

  I take a step back, almost tripping backwards over a stair, then grip the rail and glower at him.

  “I don’t need your charity! I get the message, Luke.” He’s clearly seeing someone else. Someone he bought donuts for. “I wish you all the best.”

  Tears blur the lobby as I turn around and start to climb the stairs. Strong arms wind around my waist. His breath tickles my neck. “Leah. Stop.” He turns me to face him. His fingers tuck some hair behind my ear.

  “Leah,” he breathes. “Settle down a second.”

  How dare he use that patronizing tone with me? “I’m settled just fine. Let go of me.”

  His jaw locks and he shakes his head. “Come with me and I’ll explain.” He scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder, which digs into my belly as he steps back off the stairs, onto the lobby’s marble floor. When we near the couch, he shifts me so I’m in his arms, and crouches down beside the couch. “Grab the box, okay? I’ll explain.”

  Reluctantly, I grab his box of donuts.

  I don’t say a word as he carries me through the lobby, out the double-doors, and to his Range Rover, which is idling by the valet station.

  A man in a hotel uniform opens the passenger’s side door, and Luke deposits me into the seat.

  The door shuts, and I watch him pass the man some bills. Then he’s striding around the car’s hood, setting the pink box in the seat behind his, and sliding behind the wheel. He takes off out of the lot, and I notice that we’re in his car.

  “You drove from Vegas?”

  He nods, assessing the road in front of us for a moment before he hangs a right. “I did.”

  Curiosity rises inside me. I bat it down. “What did you want to tell me? I have plans,” I lie.

  His eyes flicker to me. “What plans?”

  “A pointless car ride, followed by dinner.”

  It’s not a lie. I’m going to have dinner, in some form or fashion.

  “Ouch,” he says. He turns again, onto a busier road, and I buckle myself up.

  “Does something hurt?”

  He smirks. “My heart.”

  “What does that mean?” He’s acting strangely. So…open. So lighthearted.

  His dancing eyes find mine. “It means I think you should come with me for dinner and say fucks to whoever you’ve got plans with.”

  Inside my stomach, something flexes and rearranges itself. “Where are we going now?” I whisper.

  “We’ll be there soon enough,” he tells me.

  “So? I want to know. I hate surprises.”

  “Well you won’t like this,” he says dryly.

  I sulk for a few minutes, unsure what to do. Maybe it’s cruel, but I decide to plunge into what I need to say. I can’t spend too long with him. I’ll lose it if I do.

  “You lied about juvie,” I say, looking over at his new, Healthy, Happy Luke face. “My mother confessed everything to me.”

  His eyes widen. I watch his throat move as he swallows.

  “I told my sister Lana who you were, and she told Mom. The next day, she was at my house. Offering to turn herself in. Offering whatever you might want. She seems to feel like shit. Which she should. So, cool. Fuck her.”

  Another look at him reveals he’s slipped into his poker face. I decide to say a little more, just to clarify things, so in a while, when we part, I can feel like we got everything talked out.

  “My mother told me what happened. How they told you they were going to adopt you, and then they decided that they couldn’t, so they found someone to take you. Synthia, she told them. But my mom and I have sussed it out. It was Mother.” I exhale slowly, and take a slow, deep breath, because it hurts to face these facts. “My parents made you her first victim.”

  He nods slowly. His fingers, around the steering wheel, tighten.

  “You didn’t tell me,” I say.

  He pulls into the right lane, exiting the interstate, but he doesn’t speak or look at me.

  “Why did you keep that part from me?” I ask softly.

  “Simpler,” he says after a beat.

  “To omit that Mother knew about me already, probably because she met my parents? You didn’t tell her about me, Luke. She probably knew.” I huff another breath out, working not to lose my shit. “It’s not your fault I was taken! Mother knew we lived in Boulder. It probably came up in the transaction. My parents…God, they practically sold you into slavery.”

  “Don’t say that shit,” he growls.

  “Why not?”

  He lets his breath out. His eyes stay on the road ahead of us. “I don’t like to think of it that way.”

  “It is that way.”

  “Damnit, Leah. I fucking know it is.” He rubs a scar-striped hand over his eyes as we turn into a residential area. “I don’t like to think of it that way. It’s…bothering.”

  “Of course it is,” I snap. “You should be bothered. If you weren’t, I’d think that you were dead inside. A robot.”

  He exhales slowly. “Well I’m not. A robot.” I watch his cheeks color a little. He rolls his lips together, clearly killing time before he says more. “I had the house demolished,” he says softly.

  “What?”

  “They started yesterday.” His eyes slide sideways, finding mine. “I hope you’re not too angry.”

  “Angry? Why would I be—”

  “Because,” he says. “You didn’t get to see your room.”

  I bark a laugh. “Fuck that. I couldn’t be happier to see it go. That’s freakin’ great, Luke. Best thing I’ve heard today.”

  “I’m glad you’re not upset.”

  “No—not at all.” I look around us, at the sprawling houses on narrow, one-way streets. “Where are we going?”

  “Have you ever heard of Observatory Park?”

  He slows the car as we start to pass a grassy field, framed by four streets. Near the north edge of the field, there’s a little building with a domed top.

  “An old observatory,” he says. He parks along the curb, and I look down at my hands, feeling confused.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “This isn’t where we’re going. Just a stop.”

  I look up at him. “I’m totally confused.”

  He looks out the window. Silence twines between us. Then he clears his throat.

  “You know…I could have killed her sooner. Any time almost, if I had…wanted to. But near the end, things changed. She started…talking shit about you, Leah.” His wide, stark eyes move over mine, then boomerang back to the driver’s side window.

  “Talking shit?” My heart stutters.

  “She knew about the hole in the wall. She knew I liked to hold your hand, and she was crazy. She was jealous of you. She started talking about you too much. It made me nervous.”

  “So you killed her? That seems like a stretch.” There’s obviously more to that story, but whether he’ll want to confide in me is anybody
’s guess.

  I watch him shift his shoulders, as if the memories are aching inside him, and he can’t get comfortable with them. He rubs his hand along the bottom of the steering wheel and speaks in a low rumble.

  “One day, after we— One day, I slipped her some of her own medicine. I got her to sleep, and I went looking around. I went all around the house, in some places that I’d never seen before.” The color drains from his face, and his right hand, moving lightly along the steering wheel, locks around it.

  I try to imagine what he’s going to say. I wish frenziedly to stay a step ahead of him, but I can’t even guess. “You looked around…” I prompt softly.

  “And I found someone I’d never seen before.” He swallows, and still, his voice cracks when he goes on: “It was a little girl. Not very old, like only one or two. One,” he corrects.

  His gaze grabs onto mine, but quickly flits back toward the field. His hand, around the wheel, tightens, and he speaks through gritted teeth.

  “She had my eyes. My eyes and dark blonde hair, like Mother’s.” He puts a hand over his face and breathes in deeply. “She was living in a closet. In that room where—in a big closet off that bathroom. And Mother was passed out in the tub and Blue was in the other room and she was crying. And her voice was hoarse. So hoarse I almost couldn’t even hear her.” He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep, long breath. “It was disgusting, Leah. Filth. The way they cared for her…” He grits his teeth so hard I hear it. “I saw fucking red. I found some food and fed the baby. Cleaned her up. She was so sad. So fucking beautiful. She was my child. Mine. A child I didn’t even know I had—neglected like that.” The last word squeaks. A lone tear falls from his eye down to his knee, and my hands flutter with the want of touching him.

  “I got her to go to sleep, and when I did, I found Mother, waking up in cold bathwater.” He turns his upper body, so he can look right at me. “I didn’t do it fast, Leah. I made sure she was scared.”

  He broke her neck. He called the cops. And then he came to me.

  “It had gone on too long,” he says. “I was weak, or else I would have done it sooner.”

  “Luke, you killed her. That’s not weak.”

  “I was crazy,” he says, from low down in his throat. His voice drops so soft that I can barely hear it. “For a long time, I wanted that bitch to love me.” He turns his blood-shot eyes to me. His mouth wavers before he presses his lips into a small, hard line.

  More silence drifts as I try to absorb what he’s told me. It’s…so shocking.

  “I have a daughter, Leah. She is fifteen now. She loves Grape Ape donuts from Voodoo, and once a month, I bring them to her.”

  Holy shit. It hits me, where we are now, and I’m floored. “She got adopted.”

  He nods.

  “Her parents don’t mind you coming by?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes now focused on the grassy lawn where a group of people a little younger than us have assembled with a bag of soccer balls.

  “A few years ago, I did a paternity test. Kinda came clean to them. They were nervous at first, but it’s been so long now…” He shakes his head. “I’ve even baby sat a time or two. Not that she needs it now. She’s growing up. Her name is Kinsley.” He points out my window at a large, two-story brick home. “Her house is that one.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lucas

  I pull Kinsley’s ninth grade yearbook picture out of my wallet and pass it to Leah. She looks so much like me. So much better. Maybe it’s all in my head, but I swear to God, I don’t see Mother in her. Not at all.

  “The details of Kinsley’s birth and her existence at the house were sealed, to protect her. Her parents just told her recently about who her bio parents were and how she came to be with them—the man and woman who are raising her. Even without all the details, it’s been a little rough on her. More than a little,” I admit. “One month, she didn’t want to see me.” I stop and swallow as my eyes ache with the pressure of the tears behind them.

  “I think she had a hard time understanding— ah.” I inhale through my nose and look out my window. “A hard time understanding how it was me… who was trapped there. Being the male.” I clench my jaw.

  It’s something that bothers me, too. Makes me feel like a fucking pussy. Mark, the dude than Lana set me up with back at home, is trying to get me to feel differently. So far, no dice.

  “She asked me to stop by today or tomorrow, so I got the donuts yesterday, at a down time, when the line for Voodoo wasn’t out the door,” I’m telling Leah. Anything to keep the silence out of here. Who knows what I might say if it gets quiet.

  Soft fingers touch my arm, and I flinch. I look down into her sympathetic eyes. The eyes of a friend? I know that she cares for me. I care for her, too. But how does she feel about me now that she knows all there is to know?

  She smiles. “You want to go? I’d love to go with you.”

  I roll my shoulders. They’re tight and sore with tension.

  I’m tempted to tell Leah ‘no’. I don’t want to confuse Kinsley. She’s mentioned before setting me up with one of her friends’ moms, but that was before. Before she found out about me. The month before last is the month I didn’t come. Last month, she gave me a hug, but she didn’t talk as much as usual. I don’t know what to expect from today, and the truth is, it’s been ripping at me for three and a half weeks now.

  “I don’t have to go with you,” Leah says, responding to my stormy mood. “Not if you don’t want. I can take a stroll around here. Meet back at the car?” she offers.

  My hand catches hers before my mind can make a choice. It’s just like that with Leah. I can’t seem to help it.

  “I’d like to introduce you to her. If you’re sure you want.”

  She grins. “I’m sure. I can’t flipping believe you have a daughter. I mean, I know you’re a dad, but two kids? You seem truly legit.” She squeezes my hand and then gets out of the car. We meet in front of the hood, and she grabs my hand without hesitating.

  As we walk across the field, I tell her about Kinsley. How she cheers, plays soccer, plays the cello.

  “I hope she doesn’t mind me tagging along,” Leah says, as we reach the sidewalk.

  “Nah. She’s not like that.”

  Leah’s hand tightens in mine as we take the walk up to the house, and climb two stairs onto the porch. I hesitate before knocking, and Leah jumps right in, giving a brisk knock with her unblemished knuckles.

  Seconds later, Kinsley greets us with a sunny smile.

  “Luke.” Her eyes move from me to Leah. Then her smile widens. “Oh my God, you got a girlfriend.” She does this funny thing that girls do, batting her lashes and acting all…girly as she shifts her focus to Leah. “You’re the girlfriend. I approve.” She laughs and waves us in.

  “I’m the one who keeps him straight,” Leah says lightly.

  Kinsley wraps her arm around my waist and squeezes. “Luke, you need someone. Did he tell you he climbs mountains. He fell down one right before last time I saw him. Luke, your hands are so much better!”

  Leah’s hand, in mine, strokes circles on my thumb while Kinsley talks our ears off. And that’s the way the visit goes.

  Kin drags us up to her room and starts getting Leah’s opinion on prom dresses. I sit on her bed and try to do what Mark told me I needed to. Try to think of how I’m feeling. I’m not very good at it. As I listen to them talk, I should feel happy. But I don’t. Why?

  I don’t fucking know.

  As I stand up, the answer comes to me: Next time I’m here, I’ll be by myself. The thickness in my throat tells me how much I’ll be missing Leah.

  Fuck.

  I turn away and run my hand along a One Direction poster till I get myself together. Jesus. All I need to do is buy some panties and a bra. Except, well fuck, that’s sexist, isn’t it? The average woman is stronger than the average man. I believe that.

  I think about the way Leah pursued me. Coming to me w
ith that mask on. Coming back, even though she knew how royally fucked up I was, having taken care of my blackout drunk ass the night before.

  By the time we go downstairs, Leah and Kin are walking in front of me, talking about Gabe, some prick who wants to take my baby girl to prom. We see Melissa and Rob in the kitchen. They’ve got chips and dip, and covert smiles aimed my way.

  I arch my brows at Melissa, and the next hour unfurls without a lot of fuss. Sipping beer in the backyard. Kin’s younger sister, Blyss, comes home, and the two of them do cartwheels while we old folks talk about how cold it is for this time of the year.

  The drive back to the hotel is quiet, and longer than it felt on the way over. My hand burns for Leah’s, but she keeps hers in her lap. I take it for the sign I know it is. I can’t seem to look at her as I navigate the interstate. The heat is on, and the air feels too thick for my throat.

  Leah seems to feel it, too. I hear her swallowing a time or two. I hear her clothing wshhh as she shifts around in my passenger seat. Is this the last time? After we part ways at the hotel, will I ever see her again?

  I try to focus on the road. The last few miles of our drive go by so quickly, I’m surprised when my navigation system tells me to turn into the hotel parking lot. As soon as I shift the car into park, a painful, prickling heat sweeps through me, neck to thighs. I have to force my head to turn and look at Leah.

  Her eyes are on the car parked in front of us. Because she can’t look me in the eye, either.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” I hear myself say.

  I think back to how I kind of forced her into going with me. That’s fucking embarrassing.

  “I hope you didn’t have a bad time.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her voice squeaks. “No way.” She turns toward me and smiles. “I had a great time.” But her eyes are troubled.

  “Don’t worry about your mom, okay? I’m not gonna ask her to do that. She didn’t know. Mother used to brag about the way she’d get kids. The fake resume that she would give. It’s fucked up, yeah, but it was all just…fate or some shit.”

  Leah’s eyes widen. Her mouth pulls into an offended little ‘o’. “Don’t say that.”