Hansel 4(24)
“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.