Homeless

Chapter 24

"Good night," she replied.

As we left, the butler assured us he'd inform Nathaniel's father of Cecile going with us.

I strapped Cecile in the backseat of the car while Nathaniel got a word with the bodyguards. After a few minutes, we were on our way.

The farther we got from the mansion, the easier I could breathe. Out of all the places I could meet one of the past clients, it had to be here. Was this how my life was going to be? Meeting the monsters of my past in every turn?

I couldn't even believe that bastard was walking out and about freely as if he wasn't a twisted, sick individual. My fear slowly fused into anger. How dare he? After everything he'd committed, how dare he look at another child? To think that he could even touch Cecile with those tainted hands, that he even looked at her, made me want to throw up.

The silence in the car was loaded with tension and fury. The streets were mildly vacant, and the car rolled smoothly. He glanced in the rearview mirror, his hands white-knuckled around the wheel. "How old were you?" he asked in a rumble.

"I don't remember exactly," I said. "But younger than ten. Mark wasn't born yet."

I remembered that particular bastard because he'd been visiting very regularly until I turned twelve. I shook my head, not wanting to think about it now, and crossed my arms.

" I left one of the bodyguards behind to keep an eye on him, in case another kid is still there," Nathaniel said. "I also informed Chris. We'll see what we can do about him."

"Okay," I mumbled. I just wanted to take a shower, my skin was crawling.

That was exactly what I did as soon as we reached home. By the time Nathaniel opened the door of the apartment, I was about to burst out of my skin. I jogged past him inside, past Claire and Mark in the living room, and went into my room. I stripped and got in the shower, turning the water to scalding hot.

I rubbed my skin, feeling my throat suddenly close up with tears. They spilled, going down the drain with water. I pushed away the memories, but the images refused to disappear. It was like I had stuffed a suitcase beyond its capacity and it refused to zip close, clothes bursting out of it.

I turned off the shower and put on my bathrobe. Staring at my blurry outline in the foggy mirror, I wondered when or if I would ever find peace. I shook my head. I needed to do something and get outside of my head.

I bundled up in thick pajamas, a fluffy green robe, slippers and went outside.

Claire was pacing back and forth, chewing on her lips. Her eyes were dark and wild. Nathaniel leaned against the counter, his gaze focused inward. Cecile and Mark were on the couch.

Mark was reading out loud for Cecile. The girl sat on the blankets next to him, her head supported by the hundreds of pillows around Mark, and her eyes heavy with sleep.

Claire saw me and took a step forward. I froze. I wasn't sure I wanted to be touched right now. She noticed and squeezed my arm instead of hugging me like I knew she wanted.

The rumble of the coffee machine beckoned us to the kitchen. Claire sat by the island and I opened the fridge.

"I can't believe I left my baby there," she whispered to herself, her eyes haunted.

"You left her at her grandfather's," Nathaniel said, taking out three mugs from the cupboard.

"It was supposed to be just a small dinner," Claire said, pushing her hair back roughly. "I bet Evelyn made a big deal out of it and invited everyone and their mother again. I'm going to kill her. She knew I wouldn't leave Cecile to stay for the night if there were too many people around, and my father wanted to spend time with Cecile, so she lied right to my face. I'm going to kill her."