“Why, hello, Chiara. I didn’t know you’d come over today.”
Tim’s voice fills my ears, sending another terrifying shudder down my back. His hand moves onto my shoulder to give it a light squeeze, but I step away from him immediately. Lucky for him, Mamma is here, and I can’t rip his arms off and throw them out the window. He’s so fucking nice in front of her too, always playing the polite bastard he most certainly isn’t.
Mamma is cleaning up in the dining room while I do the kitchen? He comes to me and makes inappropriate comments. Mamma goes to the washroom? He fucks me with his eyes so hard, he shifts in his seat every single time. God, that man makes me feel disgusting and cheap. He makes my skin want to rip itself off my body.
If I wasn’t so fucking scared he’d kick Mamma out of the apartment, I’d have done something a long time ago. I would have fought back harder. I would have put my hands onhimfor a change, but not in a way he would have enjoyed. The coward can consider himself lucky that my mother’s well-being will always come before mine for me.
“Hello, Tim,” I force out through gritted teeth, causing Mamma to shoot me a confused look.Fuck. Play nice, Chiara. Your Mamma sees right through your bullshit when you don’t focus.
“You look beautiful in that dress,” he compliments me, but I don’t respond. Not until Mamma makes her way into the dining room and he adds, “I could just rip it right off your body.” Bile rises in my throat, but except for a small hurling noise I can’t control, no words leave me.
He’s not an unattractive man visually. He has short, brown hair that’s fading into a timeless silver. There are faint wrinkles on his face, but not nearly enough a man his age should have. He’s lean and has great style. Not to mention, he makes a shitload of money through the strip club he owns. Why he continues to live with Mamma is beyond me, but I suspect it’s to be close to me. He has no other reason because money sure as hell isn’t a problem. He pays for this flat almost entirely by himself nowadays.
“Come on, now, Chiara, don’t give me the cold shoulder,” he says as he steps toward me, but my face hardens into an emotionless expression.
My feet bring me to the stove before my fingers reach for the dial that controls the temperature. I’m about to turn it off when Tim grabs my hand. I don’t think. I twist his hand and wrist until he’s under my complete control. One more move andsnap, goodbye doing anything with it for at least two months.
“Donottouch me,” I warn.
He tries to wrestle free by using his other hand, but I take it into the same grip. He’s at my complete mercy, and I would love nothing more than to use the thirteen years of kickboxing and Jiu-jitsu training in my repertoire to beat him to a pulp for everything he’s ever done to me, but I let go. I let go because my stubborn Mamma doesn’t want to move in with me, and I can’t be the reason Tim kicks her out of the apartment. If I’m responsible, she will be so disappointed in me. I don’t ever want to disappoint Mamma. I love her too much to be able to handle that.
“You’ve got some fire in you, little girl, but I know you’re only doing it to play hard to get. Don’t worry, I’m a patient man,” he assures me, and my face contorts into the ugliest scowl I’ve ever felt on my face. All that prick does is laugh.Would anyone miss him if I’d, I don’t know, pushed him out the window?
Luckily, Tim has a meeting over the phone, which occupies him for most of Mamma’s and my lunch. We end up talking for hours about every possible topic, except for whatever she wanted to discuss earlier. I asked her about it halfway through lunch, but she brushed it off and changed the subject. When I make my way home, my stomach twists. It always does that at the thought of leaving Mamma with Tim.He never touches her or says something inappropriate.She’s assured me that so many times with a laugh, I have started to believe it. Mamma doesn’t lie to me either, she never has.
CHAPTERFIVE
leonard
Graham and I are in the middle of watching our favourite football team beat our least favourite one when Chiara walks through the door. She was at her Mamma’s place, according to my brother, but there is something off about her whole demeanor. Her usually angry expression is soft and upset, which twists something inside of me I have no interest in deciphering. It’s probably nothing. Starling is fine. It’s not completely unlike her to only pat Benz’s head once before disappearing into her room. Except it is. And the feeling inside of me multiples by a thousand.
“What’s up with little Ms. Sunshine?” I ask Graham, whose eyes are still on the television, just like mine should be. There is absolutely no reason for me to want to get up and check on her.
“Her mum’s roommate is a creep. Chiara always comes home like this after she spends the day there. I’m pretty sure he’s making vile advances toward Chiara, but except for once, she’s never really shared anything about Tim with me,” Graham explains, and I nod along to his words.
Okay. Whoever this Tim guy is, I’m going to kill him. He’s harassing Chiara, and as much as she’s a bloody pain in my arse, I won’t have it. Why? I could tell myself it’s because she’s Graham’s best friend and family to all of my relatives. I could, and I will. That’s the reason for my rage toward that bastard. No other reason. I can live with that.
“Why have you never done anything to help her?” I ask, but the question is silly.
Chiara is a trained fighter and badass to her very core. Not to mention, she’s stubborn and fierce as hell. She doesn’t need anyone’s help, but considering this man is still harassing her means there is something else going on. What I can’t explain is why I feel this need deep inside of me to figure out what the hell that something is.
“Because Chiara is a grown woman, who doesn’t need me to step in unless she specifically asks me to,” my brother says, and I roll my eyes at him. She would never ask for help, that stubborn demon.
“Sometimes I feel like you don’t know her,” I blurt out before my feet bring me upright and make their way toward her bedroom door.
“Sometimes I feel like youlikelike her,” Graham replies with a chuckle, but I flash him a disgusted frown.
“Not even if—” My brother cuts me off before I can finish that sentence.
“She was the last woman on Earth, yeah, yeah, you’ve said so before,” he mutters, focusing on the television again.
Benz is already sitting in front of Chiara’s door, hitting her paw at it every few minutes and booping her nose against it to get it to open. I bend down to scratch her head once and then bring my knuckles against the wood. There is a shuffling sound inside while I wait for Chiara to open the door. She doesn’t. So, I knock again.
“Who is it?” she asks.
“Are you indecent?” is my response, but it earns me an annoyed sigh from her.
“Go away, Champ, I’m not in the mood,” she says, using that nickname I hate more than anything in the world.
