His Love - Cassandra Dee Page 0,37

it was Miss Lane. Yes, Miss Lane, here in Kansas, far from the hubbub of NYC.

“Hi Kitty,” was her sneered greeting.

I stood immediately, trying to smooth my hair in place, wiping furtively at my red eyes. But there was no way to hide that I’d been crying, the bird’s nest that was my hair.

“Hi-hi,” I stammered. “Why are you here?” I asked. “This is so far from New York, don’t you have classes to teach?”

The woman looked around the room disdainfully, eyes taking in the faded and peeling wallpaper, the saggy furniture.

“So this is where you’re from,” she said contemptuously. “I always knew the new girls were trash.”

I goggled at her. Had I really heard her right? Our house isn’t nice, I know that, but still. Mary had worked long and hard to provide for us, and I wasn’t going to have some snooty woman insult my mom.

“Miss Lane,” I began, voice hard.

But Mary interrupted, her eyes telling me to be quiet.

“Miss Lane,” she said hurriedly. “I’m so glad you came to see my daughter. It’s because you want her back right? The Academy needs Kitty to dance, and you know what? Kitty’s had a change of heart. She wants to perform. This was all a big mix-up, she wants to go back with you. Kitty, get your stuff,” my mom said, eyes telling me to move. “Get your stuff and go with this nice lady.”

I goggled. That wasn’t what Miss Lane was here for at all. Anyone with eyes could see that, my mom was smokin’ something crazy.

“Miss Lane,” I said again, voice hard now. “What can I do for you? Why are you here?”

And this time, the woman answered.

“I’m here because you’re worthless,” she sneered. “Lower than dirt.”

That made both me and my mom shut up, the air in the living room completely silent. Because who would say that to my face? The rudeness was indescribable.

But this woman was off her rocker, certifiably insane. Because she actually went over to the lamp then, and with a sweep of her hand, knocked it off the table. If it hadn’t bounced onto our thick shag rug, it would have broken for sure, but instead it rolled a couple feet.

My mom and I gasped. What the hell? What was going on?

“I’m calling the police,” I rushed. “Mom, dial 911, this is crazy.”

Mary reached for the phone with trembling hands, but before she could get to it, Miss Lane slapped her across the face hard. My mom sat down with a thump, head whipped to the side from the force of the blow.

“Mom!” I screamed, leaping to her side. “Are you okay?”

Mary was completely dazed, eyes a bleary blue, glasses crooked on her nose.

“I-I’m okay honey,” she stammered. “I’m okay.”

And at that, I lost it because who was this woman to come marching into our home, insulting everything, breaking furniture, and then literally hitting my mom? I flew at her in a rage, ready to punch, bite and scream, all my frustration and heartbreak erupting at that moment.

But in a flash, Miss Lane pulled a gun from her purse and pointed it directly at me. My feet skidded to a halt, arms still outstretched.

“Stop,” she said in dead voice. “Don’t move.”

Muscles twitching, I didn’t move an inch. Oh my god, was this really happening? Was a strange woman threatening us with a gun, right here in our living room?

But something had changed about Miss Lane. Because she’s never been a nice person, but she’d been alive at least. There’d been a person behind those cold blue eyes, someone with her own life, her own needs and wants, her own dreams. What they were, I couldn’t be sure, but all that was gone now. All that looked back at us was a pair of lifeless blue eyes, cold as ice.

“You’re a slut,” she said tunelessly to me.

My hands up, I decided to give her whatever she wanted.

“Yes,” I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m a slut. You’re right Miss Lane. I’m a slut.”

Her chin jerked at me.

“You’re a slut of the worst kind. Young and nubile, you tempt him. You make him want you, when he shouldn’t.”

Again, I was going to agree with anything she said.

“You’re right,” I said, nodding slowly, hands still up. “You’re one hundred percent right, I’m the one who tempted him.”

Beside me, Mary still sat motionless on the ground, quivering with fear.

“Please let my mom go,” I said in a low voice. “Please, she has nothing to do with this.”

“No!” came