The Beast (Black Dagger Brotherhood #14) - J. R. Ward Page 0,92

she was looking to avoid another disaster like what had happened at Havers’s clinic, and unfortunately, you couldn’t always tell where the land mines were. And what she was going to have to tell Bitty was not—

“Ms. Luce?”

Turning from the window, she forced herself to smile at the girl. “You’ve come down.”

“I don’t understand why we’re waiting.”

“Could you come here for a minute?”

The little girl had on the ugliest black coat you’d ever seen. It was two sizes too big, under-stuffed with down feathers, and molting at the various seams, tufts of white and gray escaping around the stitching. Clearly, the thing had been made in the boys-aged-twelve-to-fifteen vein, and yet Bitty had refused a new one, even though there were coats both new and donated to choose from in all kinds of colors and styles in the back hall.

A sense of exhaustion weighed Mary down, like someone had sneaked up behind her with some chain mail and draped her shoulders in the stuff: the kid wouldn’t even accept a toy or a frickin’ coat … and Mary thought there was a chance in hell she could get Bitty to open up in the slightest? About the most traumatic events in her life?

Good luck with that.

“Sit down,” Mary instructed, pointing at a chair. “I need to talk to you.”

“But you said we were allowed to go?”

“Sit down.” Okay, maybe she needed to work on her tone. But she was so frustrated with the situation she was ready to scream. “Thank you.”

As Bitty looked at her from the armchair, Mary gave up sugarcoating anything. Not because she wanted to be cruel, but because there was no other way to phrase these things.

“We can go to your old house.”

“I know, you told me.”

“But we’re not going alone.” As Bitty looked as though she were going to throw out a why, Mary talked over any protest. “It’s just not safe. We are responsible for your well-being, and the two of us going out alone to a property that has been abandoned in a human part of town for quite some time is simply not going to happen. That is non-negotiable.”

Mary braced herself for an argument.

“All right,” was what came back at her.

“It’s my hellren.” At that very moment, her phone let out a bing! “And he’s here.”

Bitty just sat in that armchair, with its flower-print fabric and the knit throw hung over its back and the long-necked lamp that peered over one side as if the thing were checking to make sure any inhabitants were okay.

“He’s a member of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, and I would trust him with my life. And yours.” Mary wanted to go over, kneel down, take the girl’s hand. She stayed put. “He’s going to drive us there and bring us back.”

And he’d already been out to check the house.

On that note, hopefully he wasn’t here to say that thing had been razed to the ground. Or looted. Probably should have checked her texts first.

“There is no other way.” Mary surreptitiously glanced at her phone. Rhage’s message merely said that he was ready when they were. So guess it was thumbs-up. Assuming Bitty was still on board…“You don’t have to go, but if you do decide you still want to, it’s only going to happen with him. It’s your decision.”

Bitty shifted off the chair in an abrupt way. “Then we go.”

She didn’t meet Mary’s eyes as she walked by, heading for the front door. And as Mary watched the girl, something was triggered in the back of her head. There was no time to tease whatever it was out, though.

Only staff members had clearance to unlock things, and Mary put in a code on the pad to the left of the heavy panels. There was a clunk and a shift, and then she was able to open the way out. Moving to the side, she waited for Bitty to pass by, and then shut and relocked the door.

Rhage was standing at the property line, on the patch of well-mowed but dying grass over on the right. The moonlight made his blond hair flash in the darkness, and did nothing to highlight the black of his leathers and jacket.

Thank God it looked like he’d kept all his weapons hidden.

Bitty stumbled down the steps, her feet tripping over obstacles that were no doubt in her head, and certainly not on the concrete. She kept her chin up, though, even though her stare stayed at ground level.

As Mary fought the urge