Page 86 of The Love Scam
“Jesus Christ!” he praised/hissed. “The whole time? No wonder you were always offering to buy me gelato!”
“See why turning me down was dumb?”
“I didn’t know you had ten grand on you! Wait,whydid you have ten grand on you?”
Before she could answer, there was a brisk rap on the door. “How’s she doing?”
“Oh my God, the diarrhea and vomit are everywhere! Get a mop! Two mops! And the smell! Maybe you should get in here and help!”
“Pass.”
“See?” she said smugly. “We make a good team.”
“Yes, but that’s not news.”
“Yes, but I get the feeling you’re the type who needs to actually see something up close before you’ll believe it. It’s why I was glad when you got sick.”
“Um. What?”
“So I could take care of you. I know finding out about me was a nasty shock.” Before he could protest, she cut him off. “But I thought if I was quiet… and helpful…” All at once, the preternaturally self-possessed child had trouble looking him in the eye. “If I did that, then maybe you wouldn’t think it’d be hard to take care of me. You know. If I tried to take care of you.”
His eyes stung. Fucking allergies. Which had only now developed. “That’s—that’s not your responsibility, hon.”
“It’s not about responsibility.” Then, abruptly: “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“When you got mad at that man who tried to kidnap me? When you said I was your daughter?”
“You heard that?”
“Well. Thin doors. And you were kinda screaming. Especially when you called them a ‘grubby brigade of fucksticks.’”
“Probably shouldn’t quote me when I’m throwing around words likefucksticks,and yeah, Lillith, I did mean it. Of course I did.” He knelt and put his hands on her slender shoulders. “I know I’m a poor substitute for your mom and that you must think I’m a flighty, selfish jackass.…”
“I don’t think you’re flighty.”
“But you’re mine. Like I’m yours.” He hesitated, wondering if now was the time to mention that Blake might actually be her father. He ultimately held off because (1) time and place—theywerestill in the clutches of the bad guys, after all, and speaking of, he really should get back to Delaney, and (2) it didn’t fuckingmatterif Blake’s sperm got there first. Lillith was his child. End of discussion. “And that’s always going to—”
“Doing okay in there? Do you two, uh, need anything?”
“Will you just give me a minute?” he shouted.Christ. No sense of decorum at all.“We’ll figure it out,” he finished. “All of it. Because we’re a team now. Which reminds me, another team member has been alone with the bad guys long enough—”
“Exactly long enough,” Lillith agreed. “Here.” She pressed a slender dark tube into his hand. He blinked down at it, then with a snap of his wrist the telescoping baton tripled inlength. “Don’t worry. Those are legal here. So’s pepper spray, but there wasn’t room for that in my belly bag.”
“I feel so safe with you,” he said with absolute sincerity. “Now keep back. Daddy has to go give the bad guy a concussion.”
“I’m not calling you Daddy.”
“Noted. Keep out of the way regardless.”
Fifty-one
Well, that escalated quickly.
Rake had only been gone a minute before Kovac had calmly instructed Small to “grab her and I’ll cut her face—oh, wait, all that ‘not the face’ stuff ishisthing. Well, it’ll be ironic.” To her: “No offense, but it’ll be easier to believe you if we hurt you and your story doesn’t change.”
No offense? Really?Delaney wasted no time hurling a book—not for nothing had she been using the bookcase for back support—straight at Small’s face. All she hoped for was a hit, a distraction that would let her follow up with something painful and immediate. To her immense satisfaction, the thing caught him square in the face and everyone heard the raw carrot–snapping sound that heralded a broken nose.
