Page 40 of Merciless Heir
“You don’t know me.” She doesn’t spit the words. She doesn’t hiss or yell or snarl. They’re quiet and soft and they hurt something in my chest and make the breath catch in my throat.
“Runs in the family.”
Her eyes now flash fire and she snatches the photo, crumpling it. “No. It does not. I’m not him. Nothing like him. At all.”
She pushes past me and I let her, the night sky heavy above, the air cold and damp with the promise of rain. A few people passing by glance our way but I ignore them, everything tuned into the vibrations of her.
Sadie opens the door and steps into a dusty, dirty old foyer, complete with flickering fluorescent light above and old pizza flyers on the floor with discarded junk mail.
The building though, with the tin roof and details on the cornices, is something that would look spectacular if stripped of years of old paint and chip board.
I’m aware I’m doing this on a base level so I don’t have to think about the change in Sadie, so I don’t need to feel the tight knot low in my gut.
But I follow her. Through one door and then up a staircase to the second floor, where she opens a door and goes inside. I stop the door with my booted foot and push it open.
“What part of me trying to slam the door in your face do you not understand?”
I step inside. “The same part that isn’t finished yet.”
“I think we are.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m not in the mood,” she says, snapping on a light.
And I don’t move.
It’s not huge. But it’s beautiful. A clean, wide space that managed to be cozy with white oak floors, a small wood and steel table near one of the windows, and a fat sofa and chairs around a shelf of books and a mounted flatscreen that has a pile of books on the fireplace it hangs over. A big plant sits in the space where fire should burn.
Other rooms lead off, three. A kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom no doubt.
It’s not the place of someone who’s grown rich from others, but it’s had money and love and time put into it.
A haven, I think suddenly. That’s what it feels like.
“It’s also not for sale.” Sadie crosses her arms and glares.
“You need to stay in touch with me.”
“When there’s something to talk about. And this photo is not such a subject.”
I sigh and rub a hand over my face. “I came here because….”
The words stop. I’m not sure why I came here. Except maybe I wanted to see her, be near her.
Because I need to keep an eye on her. That’s why. That’s the only reason. End of story. And now I know her father is a big bad criminal I—
“I’m sorry.”
Her eyebrows rise. “You’re sorry? For what?”
“Bringing the photo.”
“You’re sorry for bringing something up you clearly came here to bring up?” She laughs and the go fuck you tone does a good job of hiding the hurt. Good, but not great. Because I can see it, smell it, and I don’t really know what to do with it. “No, you’re not.”
“No.” I guess I’m not. “Are you working with him?”
She stares at me like I’ve slapped her. Hard.