Page 53 of The Love Scam
“Abbiamo bisogno di lui,” Sofia said quietly.
“That’s right,” he added. “You do need me.”
Delaney was rubbing her temples in that “Rake is giving me a migraine” way he often observed in others trapped in close quarters with him. “Aw, man. Bad idea. Really terrible. But you’re both right.” She looked right at him with her narrow gray gaze. He pretended it didn’t make his knees weak. “Okay. You can help and we’ll stick together. Let’s hope you don’t regret it. Thatwedon’t.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Yay!” From Lillith, now reemerged and clutching her toothbrush in a small fist. Then: “What are we doing, exactly? I missed that part.”
“It will be as Rake suggested,” Sofia added, pointing to him. “I will tell the others.”
“We’ll need supplies,” Delaney replied. “Um, furniture? Supplies? Right?”
Sofia and Rake both laughed.“Forniture,” Sofia corrected. “How many years have we worked together? Your Italian is shit.”
“Hey, that’s my girl you’re impugning,” Rake protested. He’d finally judged it safe to stand—nothing worse than an erection tenting your shorts to prove you’re a hound with one thing on your mind—and did so just in time to sling an arm around Delaney’s shoulders. “Sorry,womanyou’re impugning. She’s doing the best she can with her shitty Italian. Don’t judge.” He held his breath; he had no idea if she’d let him keep his arm there or would drive an elbow (and then maybe a fist, followed by a foot) into his solar plexus.
“Non avrei mai giudicare il mio amico. È molto più difficile su se stessa di quanto potessi mai.”*
And even though Delaney raised her eyebrows in a clear question, Sofia didn’t translate, and seemed satisfied when Rake didn’t, either. Lillith, meanwhile, just watched like it was a riveting tennis match. She probably knew more about what was going on than Rake did. Scratchprobably,now that he thought about it. The kiddo didn’t miss much.
“So what are we doing? More baskets? Deliveries? Meals on Wheels?”
“Wewon’t be doing any of that.” Sofia had left the room as rapidly as she’d burst into it, probably in search of a good hairdresser, with Lillith on her heels. “It’s all you, baby.” Then she blushed—again! Twice in the last ten minutes. “Rake, I mean.”
“You can call me ‘baby,’” he said, trying not to fall all over himself with how rapidly he put that out there.You can call me anything you like. Baby, sweetie, darling, pet, yummypants, porkmeister, jackhammer, studmuffin, Stan the Rammin’ Man… sky’s the limit!
“Oh, sure.” She found a smile—odd how her mood had shifted so radically with Sofia’s announcement. “Let’s talk tomorrow, see how you feel.”
As it turned out, her fears were more than justified. But the church disaster wasn’t even the most interesting thing to happen that day. The most interesting thing happened before the sun had even come up.
Twenty-nine
It was scary, really, how quickly he adapted to the sofa bed, now on night four—five?—of trying to cripple him. He barely noticed the bar pressing across his shoulders, and was idly on his phone, updating his Amazon wish list
(No, I already readHow to Be a Super Villain Without Even Trying.*Fewer books, but more—good Lord, Amazon sells lube by the gallon? How have I not known this?†)
when it happened again: Delaney went from deep, motionless sleep to moving-around sleep. She sat up and, like last time, went straight to the window.
This time he was right behind her. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
“Really?” God, the hope in her tone! Like she wanted to believe but was afraid to.
“Yeah. No question.”
She pulled her gaze from the window and looked through him. “I can leave anytime?”
“Anytime you want. And you can go anywhere you want, too,” he added firmly. “Nobody can stop you. You’re not trapped here.”With me.
“Oh.” She smiled at him in the dark. “That’s a relief. I don’t like it when I can’t leave. Sometimes they won’t let me.”
“Not anymore.”Don’t touch her. Don’t hug her. Don’t wake her up.All of these, he figured, would be bad. Wasn’t there an old wives’ tale about how waking someone up while they were sleepwalking makes them go crazy? Blake would know. He could use some of Blake’s healthy skepticism right about now. “You’ll never be trapped again. And—” Inspiration hit. “And neither will the kids you’re helping. Sofia’s not trapped, either. You saved her from that.”Saved yourself from that.“Okay?”
“I can go back to bed? Nobody will… do anything?”
Why was it so fucking dusty in here? It was a nice hotel, but the dust was making his eyes water. Time to talk to housekeeping; this was unacceptable.
“Course not,” he soothed, steering her back to bed without actually touching her. It worked! (He had no idea how.)
