I go through the rest of the game in a daze, barely registering the action on court, except to note that, as usual, Caleb and August provoke one another to perform even better than they usually would. They both have exceptional games, but August always seems to manage a win against Caleb. Thank you, God, because that is a loss I wouldn’t want him having to process over Thanksgiving dinner.
Susan and I are entering the private underground parking lot to wait for August, when I sense danger.
I look up, and Caleb is right there, a few feet away. His dark sweater and slacks throw that golden hair into relief. He looks like something sent down from the sun.
Only I know he’s something dispatched by Hell.
With a cocky grin, he moves in for the kill. He can probably smell my fear, so I smooth my face to neutral. I lift my chin and meet his eyes squarely. He can’t attack me in the open, and I refuse to show the terror that’s being pumped into my heart, carried by my blood.
He looks from Sarai on my hip to August’s mother. “Good to see you again, Mrs. Foster. It’s been years, but you look beautiful as always.”
I forget the history Caleb and August have predating me. They’ve known each other longer than they’ve known me.
Mrs. Foster isn’t one for phonies. She doesn’t answer him but stares with hard eyes at Caleb until he shrugs.
Sarai looks at Caleb, fascinated. She reaches out to touch his nose and his lips. I want to run with her in the other direction—to get her as far away from him as possible. I know what it’s like to be deceived by the angelic shell. You never suspect that beneath it beats the heart of a demon until it’s too late.
Caleb tries to capture her little fingers, but I angle my hip away so her hand falls out of his reach.
“You’re so pretty, Sarai,” he says to her but looks at me. “You have your daddy’s eyes. Do you remember me?”
Thumb in her mouth and tugging on her ear, Sarai shakes her head.
Caleb glares at me and grabs a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “I’m your daddy.”
I take several steps back, putting more distance between them.
“Daddy,” Sarai whispers, violet–blue eyes locked with violet–blue.
“Mrs. Foster, would you take Sarai to the car?” I ask abruptly, watching the interplay between father and daughter with dread. Sarai is bright and curious and has the memory of an elephant.
“Are you sure, Iris?” Mrs. Foster asks.
I pass Sarai to her and fabricate a smile. “I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “Caleb and I need to talk.”
“But Iris, maybe you should wait for—”
“No, now’s fine.” I nod toward the black SUV a few feet away. “I’ll come in a little bit.”
She splits a concerned look between Caleb and me but turns with Sarai and goes to the car.
“Alone at last.” Caleb touches my hair, sifting it through his fingers. “I prefer your hair straight, but you do look beautiful.”
I pull away, scooping my hair with one hand and tucking it behind my back and out of his reach. “What do you want, Caleb?”
His smile, his eyes—everything about him is lascivious as he studies me, my face, my breasts, lingering at the juncture of my thighs and down my legs.
“I want what’s mine.” He leans forward to whisper in my ear, “Do you honestly think you can leave me, Iris, and never come back? Do you think you can take my daughter from me and not pay for it?”
The fine hairs on my body lift. My heart pounds and my muscles brace. My body is an uprising, prepared for anything.
In a flash, his hand shackles my wrist, gripping to the point of pain. “How dare you fuck him?” he hisses. “And flaunt him in front of me on my home court? Let him watch my daughter grow up when I can’t?”
His tongue darts out and licks behind my ear, and the saliva freezes and dries on my skin, repulsing me.
“I wish I could fuck you right now in front of everyone.” He laughs. “Wouldn’t August love to see how we do it?” He steps so close his dick pokes my belly. “Only you do this to me, Iris.” He swallows, the hardness in his eyes fading to that sick desperation he covers with hubris. “Come back home. I miss you. I’ll be better this time. I promise. I—”
His breath stalls in his chest. He glances down between us, where MiMi’s jeweled knife glints in the dim parking lot. The wicked tip is pressed to Caleb’s dick.