Last Kiss Goodnight - By Gena Showalter Page 0,129
away from her as she approached.
“You’ll come to love me,” she told them. “I’ll make sure of it. And if not, I’ll go get my tiger from Siberia and he’ll teach you a few lessons.”
One of the cows mooed. A few pigs snorted.
“Fine. I want to go get him, but I would never use him against you.”
No response.
“I have experience with your kind, you know.”
A donkey kicked at her, and she had to jump out of the way to avoid being pummeled.
Wagging her finger at him, she said, “Do that again, and I’ll name you Princess Fluffy Cakes.”
He put his nose in the air and pranced away.
Midday, she began to pull weeds from the garden, pluck the vegetables that were mature enough, and pick fruit from the trees. There were acres and acres of land Solo hadn’t yet put to use, and there were countless women out there. Abused women. Women who thought they had nowhere to go. Women who assumed they were trapped by situation and circumstance just as she had. They didn’t yet know there was something better out there.
But they would. Solo had taught Vika, and she would teach others.
Yes. She would build cabins and create a place for women and their children to run and hide. A place of protection and safety. Perhaps her purpose would come out of her pain. The women could help her with the land and the animals and finally come to understand how valuable they really were.
Solo would definitely approve.
As the sun set on the horizon, casting a haze of purples and pinks through the sky, she carried a basket of edibles into the kitchen. The screen door squeaked as it shut behind her. She—
Saw a strange man reclining behind the table, a gun resting just in front of him. Even as relaxed as he appeared, she had no doubt he could reach the trigger in plenty of time to put a hole in her chest if she made a single move in his direction. He had the same I’m prepared to do anything glaze in his eyes that Solo had had.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked with a weary sigh.
“I’ll be asking the questions, girl. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he demanded. “And don’t you dare lie to me. I’ll know it, and I’ll get angry.”
“Sir, there’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done,” she said. More than that, the worst thing that could ever happen to her had already happened. “And to be honest, I’m too exhausted right now to care what you do.”
He frowned. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“Who are you?” she repeated.
“Someone who was invited.”
“Well, so was I. I’m Vika Lukas.” If he tried to take the farm away from her, she would fight him. With everything she had, she would fight. “And I’m here waiting for someone.”
A pause as he studied her. “My name is Michael, and I want to know where Solo Judah is.”
“Michael. You’re Solo’s boss, aren’t you?” she asked, as a little bead of excitement formed.
His eyes widened. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Yes. Solo mentioned you. Have you seen him? Heard from him?” Maybe Solo had contacted him. Maybe “home” was someplace Vika didn’t know about.
“I haven’t, no.”
Disappointment was a crushing weight on her shoulders, obliterating the excitement.
“He would never mention me to a woman,” Michael said.
“Because you forced him to kill people?”
His jaw dropped. “I never forced him.”
“Well, he’s not working for you anymore. He’s done with that way of life. He told me so, and as you know, he never breaks his word.”
Dark eyes narrowed on her. “How long since you’ve seen or heard from him?”
“Thirty-two days.” She set the basket on the table and flopped into the seat across from him, wiping sweat from her brow. “You need to eat.” His skin was pale and his cheeks hollowed out. He had scabs on his face and hands, and those scabs stretched all the way to the edges of his clothing; she would bet they even stretched underneath.
Another pause. Another frown.
“I want to know everything,” he said coldly.
She sighed. “The last time I saw him, he was . . . he was . . .” Stupid chin, wobbling. “We were at the circus. He kissed me good night, and he . . . and he . . .”
“Tell me.” A ragged command.
“Vanished,” she whispered. “But he’s not dead, I assure you.”