Chapter Nineteen
Buster was gone.
The little girl stood in the doorway to the den, staring up at the fireplace mantle. How long had he been gone? She wasn’t sure, because she never came in here anymore. Panic flooded her, her eyes darting around. “Where did Buster go?”
The Tin Man stood in the middle of the room, turning his head to look at her. “Away.”
“Where?” she asked. “What did you do with him? Why did he go away?”
“It does not matter,” the Tin Man said, waving her off. “Buster is gone.”
The little girl’s stomach felt like it dropped to her feet. “No, Daddy! Get him back! Please!”
“No.”
No. No. No.
“Please!” she screamed, running through the room. “I didn’t do nothing! I didn’t! I’ve been good! Don’t burn up Buster!”
He stopped her before she could make it to the fireplace, before she could look. She had to see.
The little girl fought, but it was for nothing, because the Tin Man was too strong, like he was truly made of metal. He clamped his hand down on top of her head, the simple touch enough to stop her in her tracks. She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand off, pushing against it with her head as she screamed, “Stop it! Don’t do that! Let me go! I wanna go!”
“Where?” he asked, glaring down at her. “Where do you want to go, kitten?”
“Home!” she screamed, hitting his arm as hard as she could with a clenched fist. “I don’t like you. You’re mean. You talk ugly! You don’t love me. Mommy loves me! I don’t wanna be here no more, so let me go!”
He let go.
Just like that.
He let go so fast she stumbled, falling.
Before she could get back on her feet, he snatched her right up with just one arm and hauled her over his shoulder, carrying her out. He moved fast, heading through the foyer, disabling the alarm and yanking the door open to step out into the cool night.
The Tin Man shoved her into his car before getting in, driving away from the big palace as she started crying. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” he said. “That is what you want. You say your home is not with me, that you want your mommy. So fine, I will take you home.”
The little girl started shaking—the good way, this time. Home. She was going home?
“Thank you,” she blurted out. She thought maybe it could be a trick, but she couldn’t help herself.
He cut his eyes at her, his voice quiet as he said, “Anything for you, kitten.”
Half an hour later, they pulled up in front of the familiar house. The little girl hadn’t seen it in so many months, but she recognized it right away. Home. He parked out front and hauled her out of the car, motioning toward the house. “Go on.”
The little girl ran right for it.
She didn’t realize, until she reached the door, that it was all dark inside, no lights on. The Tin Man strolled along behind her, pausing on the porch, leaning against the house as he watched her try to open the front door.
Locked.
The little girl knocked and knocked and knocked, calling out for her mother, but there was no answer. She pounded on it until her fist ached, running around the outside to peek through windows, but she couldn’t see anything.
“She’s not here,” the little girl said, “but she will be, I know it. She’ll come home soon.”
“We will wait,” the Tin Man said, glancing at his watch. “We will stay here as long as it takes.”
The little girl sat down on the porch.
Half an hour turned into an hour, which turned into forever. Hours... and hours... and hours. The little girl shivered, huddling in her shirt, her eyes heavy. So tired.
It was nearing sunrise when she almost fell asleep on the porch, leaning against the thick railing column, letting it support her. Her eyes were closed, resting, when she heard footsteps. Her heart raced, eyes snapping open. Mommy?
Not Mommy.
The Cowardly Lion stood on the pathway in front of her. He looked angry, not very cowardly anymore. He glared past her, at where the Tin Man still stood. “What are you doing?”
“She wanted her mother,” the Tin Man said, “so we are waiting for her to come home.”
That answer didn’t make the Cowardly Lion any happier. “You know damn well her mother isn’t living here.”
The Tin Man said nothing.
The little girl glanced back at him. What did that mean? “Where’s Mommy? Why doesn’t she live here?”
“Look what you have done,” the Tin Man said, his gaze fixed to the Cowardly Lion. “You have gone and upset her.”
“This is not me,” the Cowardly Lion said. “What you are doing here is cruel, Kassian.”
“Her mother is the one that moved on. She is the one with a new life in the city, one without her daughter... new friends, new lover, new everything, and no Sasha.”
The little girl frantically shook her head. “No, Mommy wouldn’t do that.”
The Tin Man looked at her. “Your mother is gone, kitten. I have tried to find her, but she does not want to be found. She is the one hiding now. But you do not like me. You do not like my home. So here you are, where there is nobody to care for you.”
He shoved away from the house, stepping off the porch, pausing in front of the Cowardly Lion.
“Do something with her,” the Tin Man said, “since you cannot ever seem to find her bitch mother. Do you think you can handle that much, Markel?”
The Cowardly Lion stared him in the face, saying nothing.
The Tin Man shoved against him, knocking him out of the way as he headed to his car.
The little girl got to her feet to follow, tears falling down her cheeks. “Wait, Daddy!”
He shook his head as he turned to her, holding up a hand. “No, this is what you wanted. You thanked me for it. You are just like her. I hope you are happy. No Mommy. No Buster. And now, no me. No home. No love. No food. So good luck, my kitten, with nothing.”
The little girl stood there, crying, as he drove away. She should be happy the Tin Man was gone, shouldn’t she? So why did her insides feel so empty?
“Do not cry, sweet girl,” the Cowardly Lion said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You will be okay.”