Page 87 of Born into Madness
“I don’t speak it very well,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“You already speak it better than your dipshit of a professor.”
I laugh and ask, “Is he really that bad?”
“Yes, but I also hate him because he wants to fuck you, so that might be coloring my opinion.”
“He does not want to fuck me,” I try to tell him, but he just shakes his head.
“Yes, he does. I can see it in the way he looks at you, and I don’t like it.” His thumb gently grazes my bottom lip. “I just taught you how to sayI want to leave. If at any time you want to get out of here, just look at me and say that. I’ll have you out of there in less than a minute,krovinka. No questions asked.”
I turn my head and kiss his finger. “You’re the sweetest man on the planet, Sasha.”
He laughs and leans in to kiss me. “For you, Cyn. Only you.”
I’m still smiling when I get out of his Jeep and interlace my fingers with his as we walk up to the front door. The last time I was here feels like a lifetime ago. I haven’t been back since the supper from hell that I shared with my mom, and I’m really hoping tonight goes better. I told her I was bringing someone I wanted her to meet, but whether that means she’ll be on her best behavior, I have no idea. You never can tell with her.
Sasha squeezes my hand when I ring the doorbell, and before my mom can answer the door, he leans down and kisses my forehead. “You’re not alone, Cyn. I may not know everything that’s going on here, but it doesn’t matter. I’m here with you, and you’ll never be alone again,krovinka.”
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug, and when the door opens, that’s exactly how she finds us. Her daughter snuggled up to a big bad tattooed guy. It could beworse, but judging by the shocked look on her face, she doesn’t think so.
Straightening up, I say, “Mom, this is Sasha.”
She’s too stunned to say anything so Sasha holds out a tattooed hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nancy.”
I look up at him, because I never did tell him her name. He gives me a quick wink and then shakes my mom’s hand. As soon as he lets her go, his arm is back around me, pulling me close, reminding me that we’re in this together.
“Hi,” my mom finally says. She’s clearly still stunned but she steps aside so we can come in and then she gives me a quick, perfunctory hug before we follow her into the kitchen.
“Who’s this?”
I cringe when I hear Billy’s cruel voice from behind us. Sasha feels me tense and gives my shoulder a squeeze before his hand slides up to cup the back of my neck. We both turn to face him together, and I briefly think about laughing when I see how much bigger Sasha is than my angry little stepdad.
“I’m Sasha, her fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” I hear my mom ask as she steps past me to stand next to Billy.
“I just asked her today,” Sasha tells them, even though we both know he didn’t exactlyaskso much as state it as a fact.
“I didn’t even know you were dating anyone,” my mom says. I thought maybe she might find her way to being happy for me, but the annoyed look on her face and the tight line of her smile makes it clear she won’t be popping open the bubbly anytime soon.
Billy just makes an annoyed grunting noise and scowls up at Sasha. “I thought you were supposed to ask a girl’s parents for permission first.”
Sasha doesn’t come right out and laugh, but I hear the amusement in his voice when he says, “Why would I do thatwhen Cyn has a brilliant mind? She’s more than capable of deciding her future for herself.”
Billy smirks at the nickname. “Cyn, huh?”
“That’s whatIcall her,” Sasha says. All amusement is gone from his tone, and whatever Billy sees on his face has him shaking his head and muttering a “Whatever” before going into the kitchen.
We follow him, but not before I see the scowl my mom is giving me. I’m used to that look. It’s theway to go, Cindy. Billy’s pissed and it’s all your faultlook.
I’m not at all surprised to find Billy’s hand on the fridge door when we walk in. It’s an unconscious habit. He’s pissed and he wants a beer. I can see the war on his face, the way his hand is wrapped too tightly around the handle, and the tension that runs along every inch of him. It doesn’t matter that there’s no longer beer in the fridge. That knowledge doesn’t make the craving any less real.
After a few seconds, he gets his shit together and opens it, grabbing a Coke instead of the Bud he’d rather be drinking. He doesn’t offer one to us. He pops the top and goes to sit at the table while my mom gets a large ham out of the oven.
Jesus Christ, Mom.
As if she can hear me, she puts the ham on the counter and says, “Don’t worry, Cindy. I made you a big salad, and I didn’t add chicken broth to the mashed potatoes.” She glances up at Sasha and rolls her eyes. “My daughter, the only vegetarian to gain weight.”
