Page 41 of Beautiful Liar

“I haven’t,” I answer, sharper than I intended. I wince and bite the inside of my lip. “Not really. I’m sorry Fionnella had to disturb you, but I had things under control.”

“How?” He throws my question back at me.

My gaze drops again, even though I sense that doesn’t please him. But I can’t bear for him to witness my shame. “I was going to find another place tonight.”

“Where? And before you think of lying or refusing to answer, know that I won’t allow you to leave until I have an address where I can reach you.”

I glare at him. “I wasn’t going to lie.”

“Good.”

He waits.

I purse my lips, stomp down hard on my shame. It doesn’t die a complete death but it’s temporarily maimed. “I was going to find a bed at a shelter for the night, then hunt for somewhere else to live tomorrow.”

Thick silence pulses through the wall, feeds through the lens. I’m not even sure if he’s in this apartment or this building, never mind the same city as me. And yet I feel him. Around me. Above me. Inside me.

“A shelter.”

I nod.

“Remember the guy in the bar, Lucky? The one who wants to fuck you more than he wants to live? Do you think that guy would want the woman he craves to be spending the night in a shelter?”

Who is this guy? Who the fuck is he to mess with me like this?

Fuck him and fuck this bullshit.

I charge to my feet and glare straight into the blinking light of the camera. “That was a made-up fantasy. This is my life! I’m sorry if I ruined your grand plans for the evening. You think I enjoy being made homeless? You think I enjoy being tossed out on my ass without getting my money back for the rat hole I had the privilege of calling home, or some dumb fuck telling me the only way I’m going to get my money is to suck his cock?”

I know I should stop, but my last nerve is shredded to pieces along with my hope. And if all I’m going to get out of this acid trip is a waxed crotch, nice smelling hair and a few free meals, then I deserve to rant a little.

Because, fuck karma.

“I know I’m nothing more than some expendable commodity to you, but you have no right to call me out for doing what I need to do to survive. I said I’ll take care of it and I will. If that’s not good enough for you, then too bad.”

My chest burns with the need for air and I realize I haven’t taken a breath throughout my outburst. Several quick breaths, then I toss the brand new phone on the table.

Thank God I didn’t throw the burner away.

“Are you done?”

I raise my chin. “I’m most definitely done.”

“Sit down.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to be led by the nose into hope again. Besides, it’s way past time to get off this crazy train. “No, thanks.”

“I’ve spent time and resources on you, Lucky. Sit down.”

“Or what?”

He doesn’t respond. I walk backward until my ass hits the door, keeping my hands loose at my sides. So I can what? Make a quick escape if I need to? When every single person in this place reports to him? When I need a special passcode for the elevator to go either up or down?

If things head further south than they are now, I’m fucked. But I’ll remain standing for the fucking, thanks.

“Would you like me to help you with your little problem, Lucky?”

My no surges up my windpipe and hovers on the tip of my tongue. I pause. Swallow down the yes that threatens to take its place.

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