Page 58 of Cinderella and the Daddy
“What are you doing?” Luka asks and practically chases me down the hall.
I don’t answer him. I walk to my bedroom and throw open the closet.
The go-bag I packed when I first arrived here sits in the back of the closet. It’s been untouched for two months. I almost forgot about it. The bag was my thing. I had learned the hard way that I always needed to have an escape route ready.
"What are you doing?" Luka's voice carries a dangerous edge.
"Leaving." I don't look at him; I can't trust myself to maintain my resolve if I see his expression. "This is my mess, my family, my problem to solve."
"Like hell." He moves toward me, but I spin around, holding up one hand to stop him.
"No. You don't get to make this decision for me." The words come out fiercely. "I'm done being a pawn in other people's games. Anna wants to play? Fine. I'll play."
The nausea subsides enough for me to keep packing, but the fury that replaces it burns hotter and cleaner. Anna hugged me in that pharmacy, looked me in the eye, and warned me. All the while, she had planted surveillance equipment on me. She was feeding information to whoever wants to destroy the life I've built here.
Because itisa life now. It’s complicated and dangerous, but mine, nonetheless.
"You're not thinking clearly," Luka says. I can hear him struggling to keep his voice level. "You're emotional, angry?—"
"Damn right I'm angry." I slam a handful of clothes into the bag. "Someone's been watching us, Luka. Watching me tuck Leo into bed, watchingus. And you want me to just sit here and let you handle it?"
"Yes." The word comes out flat. "That's exactly what I want."
I zip the bag closed and sling it over my shoulder, meeting his gaze directly. "Well, you don't always get what you want."
He moves to block my path to the door. For a moment, we stand there staring at each other like gunfighters in an old western. The tension crackles between us, electric and dangerous.
“Where are you going?”
“To look that bitch in the eyes when I tell her I know what she’s done.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Cindy, why the bag?” The question is asked quietly.
I look at the bag in my hand. It’s such a knee-jerk reaction; I didn’t even really consider what I was doing.
Running.
I’m always ready to run. I get hurt, and I run.
But why am I running from Luka? He didn’t do the hurting. Not this time.
But it’s because of him that I’m hurting. I’m humiliated. I have never felt so violated and exposed in my entire life.
“I’m leaving,” I answer. “I’m dangerous to him.”
“Him?”
“Leo.”
His expression softens. “I will protect him. And you.”
“I can do this. I’m tired of being a pawn, Luka. Do you understand?”
"I won't let you walk into a trap," he says quietly.
