Page 55 of Hell of a Mess
I shook my head. I didn’t know. “I, uh…we were playing with her dolls, and then she…she ripped an arm off one and threw it at me.” My words were rushed and shaky as I watched Dalia, still shaking her head crazily and making a weird screeching sound. “I ran over here, and she began spinning and talking about bunnies.”
“I told you to come get me when she started showing signs,” Ms. Lune said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a syringe.
I hated needles. I tried pressing my body further into the corner. Wishing I were anywhere but here.
“NOOOOOOO!” Dalia screamed as she glared at Ms. Lune. Her hair was a wild mess from all the shaking she’d been doing, and when she bared her teeth, she looked like an animal.
“Easy,” Ms. Lune told her, and Dalia turned her eyes to me.
She let out another loud noise and charged at me. I had nowhere to go. Her hands were up like claws. She’d clawed my face once until it bled. I didn’t want her to do that again. Father had made me stay in the basement until it healed, and I hated it down there.
“MOVE, LASSANDRA!” Ms. Lune shouted, but I couldn’t.
Just before Dalia reached me, I closed my eyes tightly and covered my face with both hands.
I wanted Mommy. I wanted Mommy!
Twenty-Three
Luther
Jerking open the passenger door, I grabbed Lace’s arms and turned her to look at me. She was crying silently.
What the fuck had I said?
“Lace,” I said sternly, “look at me.”
She blinked, and she was back. Recognition and anguish stared back at me.
I started to ask her what that was, but I stopped, afraid of her response. Instead, I pulled her to me and held her while my heart rate slowed back down.
Jesus Christ, what the hell had happened to her?
“You’re here. With me. You’re okay,” I told her, running my hand down the back of her head.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
“Don’t apologize,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Damn, she smelled good. I shouldn’t be thinking about that,but it was hard to miss. And it was helping calm me down.
She sighed and sank into me as her arms wrapped around me. It was then I remembered her ribs. Shit!
“I forgot about your ribs. Did I hurt you?” I asked, easing back and releasing her.
She shook her head. “No.”
Either she had a high pain tolerance or she was lying.
“Here,” I told her, holding out my hand. “I’ll help you down.”
She looked at my hand, then back at me. “Luther…” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“Yeah, sugar?”
She licked her bottom lip, then bit it nervously. “I don’t want to go back.”
“Where?”
