“I thought you builded things?”
“I do. It’s a big project, so it needs to be done overnight. And it’s built.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead before he opened the cabinet and pulled out the garbage so he could take it out before he left. Before he tied the strings together, he stilled.
“What?” I asked.
He reached inside and pulled out the small box of cookies. His eyes immediately went to me, accusatory.
I was prepared to lie and say those were just for me, but Claire gave us away. “Uh oh…”
His eyes moved to hers before he tossed the box back into the garbage can. He tied the strings and lifted it to carry it into the garage. The door shut, and he was gone.
Claire immediately turned to me. “Daddy’s gonna be mad…”
Benton returned and washed his hands in the sink.
I came to his side and leaned against the counter. “We were grocery shopping—”
“I didn’t ask for an excuse, so don’t give one.” He patted his hands dry with the towel and didn’t look at me. “She had way too many sweets over the holiday break, and if she’s asking for sweets, especially before dinner, then she’s had even more sweets than I realized.”
“It was a just one-time thing—”
“Don’t let it happen again.” He tossed the towel on the counter and headed to the front door.
Claire kept her head down at the dining table, as if her father would somehow forget she was there.
I followed him to the front door. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh—”
“I haven’t even raised my voice, so you’ve never seen me harsh.” His eyes bored into mine, enraged.
My arms crossed over my chest, and I didn’t back away. “It was just a spontaneous thing—”
“Did I ask for a list of excuses—”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
His jaw hardened as well as his eyes.
“I’m not feeding her sweets all the time, so calm the fuck down. I take good care of your daughter, so get off my ass. I’ve earned enough autonomy at this point that I can buy her a box of cookies whenever I feel like it, alright? I’m not sorry—but you should be. Talk to me like that again—”
He yanked me into him and crushed a kiss against my mouth. His arm squeezed my lower back as he tugged me hard, and then his hand moved to my ass and gave it a strong squeeze.
It was as if the fight had never happened. My fingers were in his hair, my tongue was in his mouth, his dick was hard against my stomach.
Then he abruptly walked out without saying a word.
I sat across from Claire at the dining table, the platters of food between us. Benton was usually at the head of the table, but the seat was now vacant. I’d made Claire a plate, but she hadn’t touched a single thing. She just sat there, her elbows on the table, her chin in a palm.
“Honey, why aren’t you eating?”
She shrugged. “Not hungry.”
Maybe Benton was right. I shouldn’t have given her those cookies after all. “You need to eat something, so at least take a few bites.” I took a few bites of chicken and then the scalloped potatoes.
“It smells weird.”
“I know I don’t cook as well as your dad, but it’s not that bad.”
She pushed her plate away.
I’d never seen her misbehave like this, act so defiant. My impulse was to berate her, to raise my voice the way Benton did until she complied, but I’d never struggled to get her to do anything before. I took a different approach. “Something on your mind?”
“Dad’s mad at me.” She kept her eyes down.
“Honey, he’s not mad at you.”
“I think so.”
“I’m the one he’s mad at. But…we resolved it.”
Her eyes flicked up. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “Now eat.”
She pulled the plate back toward her and grabbed her fork.
I took a few more bites and felt my stomach tighten suddenly. It was almost like a cramp but more intense. My fork was returned to the plate when I suddenly got a small hit of vertigo. It only lasted for a second. It came out of nowhere, and the only thing it reminded me of—
Claire got a piece of chicken on her fork and brought it to her mouth.
I knocked it out of her hand. “Don’t eat that.”
The fork clattered on the table, and bits of chicken got everywhere.
“Shit…no.” I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself because the room started to turn.
“Constance? What’s wrong?”
I closed my eyes because the room wouldn’t stop. “Don’t eat the food…”
“Constance?”
I felt my body slide to the floor, felt my cheek hit the rug with a thud.
“Constance!” She crawled to me across the floor and gave me a shake.
My eyes opened, but I didn’t see the chandelier above the table, the crown moldings along the ceiling, the dimmed lights. I saw decayed branches, moonlight through the trees, and then a face…
His face.
“Constance!”
“Claire…do as I say.” It was the most powerful hit I’d ever taken because it was embedded in my food. I hadn’t noticed it…probably because I was still used to it. My arms couldn’t lift me off the floor—not for life or death. “Call Daddy…”
“I don’t know how.”
“My phone… It’s on the table.”
Her blurred form moved in my vision, a shadow in the tree line. She came back, her fingers hitting the screen to make it light up.
“The green button…in the corner.” I closed my eyes, the demon’s eyes looking into mine. Horns. Teeth. Wings. There was nothing I could do but stare, watch the demonic grin. The trees caved in. The rain turned to hail. The hail turned to snow. I shivered as the water soaked into my skin…and then I started to drown.
“Daddy, Constance needs help…”
Fourteen
Benton
The door was unlocked when I arrived.
I drew my gun as I entered the house at a run. “Claire!”
“Daddy!”
I followed her voice to the dining room. Broken plates were on the floor, food tossed everywhere, and Claire was hiding underneath the table, her arms around her folded knees. When she saw me, she tried to crawl out.
“Claire, don’t move.” I did a sweep of the room and checked the hallway and the bedrooms downstairs. There was no sign of forced entry—and there was no sign of Constance either. I ran upstairs, searched that place high and low, and then I ran back downstairs. “Constance!”
I came back to the dining room, where Claire remained cowered under the table. My daughter was here, and I was relieved.
But my woman was gone, and I was fucking terrified. “Claire, what happened?” I yanked a chair away and helped her out. My hands ran over her arms and checked her for signs of injury. She was in the same condition as I left her, just with puffy cheeks from all the crying. “Where’s Constance?”