Page 381 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Is this karma?
“Lancie,” Shane snaps, pulling me back to the here and now. “Why did you make him a cake?”
The way he sayshimlets me know how angry he is, his spit hitting me in the face.
“I-I-it-it’s a belated birthday cake.” The panic spreads, controlling the stuttering words on my tongue.
“And you care about what he likes so much that you want to be the one to give it to him?”
My chest squeezes, not having the courage to voice the truth that I’d give Ambrose anything.
His grip tightens again.
My eyes drop to our hands, my bones moving uncomfortably with the pressure beneath his.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t do this?” he shakes his head, the rancid smell of beer wafting in my face.
“What have I done?”
“Do things that piss me off.” One of his fingers points into my face, the bitten-down nail harboring dirt below it. “Talking to him pissed me off. Him being around you pissed me off. But then what do you do? Drop your panties for that murdering scumbag cunt.”
“He’s not.” A broken sob leaves me.
“He’s not what? A killer? You know, I do wonder about that sometimes. Because I remember things you don’t. The two times you waved a knife in my face while screaming, you fucking clown!”
I almost ask, what? When? But the words stay trapped in my throat.
“Isn’t that what was on the wall upstairs? Was it you, Lancie? Did you kill your parents? Is that why brother dearest gets to have you anyway he fucking wants! You’re as fucking broken as him. Waste of fucking space, the two of you. That Colin guy would have been better off drowning the two of you in that shitty fucking basement. Maybe he did, one of you. Maybe it was Ambrose… maybe that time you revived him, you couldn’t really save him, and this is all just your broken mind?”
“No. He’s not dead.” I shake free from Shane’s hold. “You need to stop doing this!”
Tears fall from my face uncontrollably.
“What?”
“Pretending I lost him.”
“Maybe you have.”
“No,” I choke out. “He’s here. He fed me avocado on toast earlier. He made it pink.” I sob.
“Maybe you did that.”
“No. He had Nyx fix the yard for me.”
“Maybe I did that.”
“No! Why are you lying!” I scream, agony wrapping around me.
Bubbles barks, siding with me again, wanting this monster out of our house.
“Maybe I just have fun breaking you. I even get tips from my mother on how to do it. Who knows.”
“Well, it’s fucking done now. I fucking hate you, and I fucking hate her. Get the fuck out of my house!” I point to the door, my arm, lips, and entire body rattling with nerves.
He laughs again, the cold and cruel sound lingering in my ears as piping bags fly across the room, hitting different areas of the kitchen.
Sealing my lips, I just stare, locking my eyes on the piping bag closest to us that sits on the floor.
