Page 59 of Hell of a Mess
He hadn’t really. Just startled me.
I reached the door with Maui right beside me and went to open it when I heard Mal hiss something at Luther, but it was too low for me to make out. I glanced back to check on him, and Luther was grinning as he took another pull from the cigarette. He was fine. I should go.
Once both Maui and I were inside with the door closed behind us, I made my way to the kitchen. I wasn’t hungry, although Luther was right; Jayda was baking something, and it smelled wonderful. Maui ran ahead of me and barked happily once hereached the kitchen door, then disappeared inside.
I heard Stevie’s laughter and paused, wondering if I should interrupt them. The desire to please Luther had me moving again. I really should make my own decisions. Not worry about what he wanted me to do, but I wanted to do what he said. It was most likely damage from the life I’d lived, and I didn’t care about fixing it.
By the time I excused myself from the kitchen, Stevie had eaten two oatmeal cookies and shown me all the different tricks she had been teaching Maui. She was a bundle of vibrant energy that made the room light up when she was in it. While listening to her talk, I’d found myself thinking about how I’d never been that happy.
Laughing and playing with my dog in the kitchen was nothing I’d ever experienced. The time I had spent in the kitchen was to help the staff prepare meals. Alpheus often sent me there when they were short-handed. The head chef, Manella, normally placed me with Donnette, the pastry chef, and she was the one who taught me how to decorate with icing. Manella required perfection and working in the kitchen had been stressful work. Not somewhere with puppies and laughter.
I turned the corner that led to the hallway where my bedroom was located, and the sound of a door opening behind me had me glancing back. Luther walked out of the room, holding something to his mouth. A damp cloth? What was wrong?
His gaze swung over to meet mine, and the corner of his mouth I could see slightly quirked.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, fully facing him now.
He dropped his hand and revealed a swollen, cut lip. “Nothing I’ve not had before,” he replied. “Did you eat whatever it wasJayda was baking?”
I shook my head, studying his injury. “Did someone hit you?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “But I dodged it enough that it didn’t bust it. This’ll heal easy.”
“Who?”
I’d left him on the porch with Mal a little over an hour ago.
“Mal,” he replied.
“Why?”
He lifted his hand to put the cloth back over the swelling. “I asked for it.”
He’d asked to be hit?
“You did?” I asked incredulously.
He gave me a smug look. “Sometimes, I don’t know when to stop. Or, hell, I know, but I just can’t help myself.”
“What…” I shook my head. “What did you do to him?”
Luther licked his lips. “Told him not to worry. That you hadn’t started calling me Daddy.” He winked. “Then I addedyet. Probably shouldn’t have. But, damn, it was funny.”
I stared at him. What had he meant by that? I didn’t want him to be my father. Not at all. I wanted him though.
“Come with me. I want to watch you eat something,” he told me with a nod of his head.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, but I did want to go with him. It seemed I always wanted to be with him.
“Lace,” he said in a serious tone, “you need to eat. Please.”
Well, when he said it like that and addedpleaseeating didn’t sound so bad. My feet began moving toward him, not caring that my head was telling me to go to my room, that I didn’t need food.
“Good girl,” he praised, and all the things inside my chest felt as if they’d been lit up.
My lips curled into a smile I couldn’t help as joy radiated through me. It seemed that Luther’s praise was my dopamine trigger.
Twenty-Five
