Misha: Lanning's Leap Read Online Free PDF

human as well when she’d met their father all those years ago. “We’ll see to her.”
    The drive to the house was made mostly in silence between him and Misha. Billy, not one to ever pass up a captive listener, even one that didn’t want to prattle on and on, never shut his mouth the entire way to the house. When the truck slowed in front of a house, Carter felt his gut twist.
    The police were parked in the yard and street. An ambulance was still sitting with the doors opened to an empty back end when they walked by it. Two of the cops, friends of the family, were standing near the yellow tape keeping the neighbors out. Carter nodded to one of them.
    He was afraid. If he’d gotten her hurt or even killed by what he’d done today, he’d never forgive himself. The closer they got to the house, the heavier his heart got, and the slower his steps seemed to be.
    “How bad?” Carter was relieved when Misha asked. He could feel his cat move along his skin in a powerful need to fix and protect.
    “Beaten pretty badly. The neighbors called it in. Heard her screaming, I guess, and knew it was bad. One of them told me that when the girl is beaten, she rarely makes a sound. We’re looking for her mother now.” Carter asked if he could go inside. “Yeah, but don’t go in the kitchen. They’re working on her still.”
    Carter moved up the two rickety steps slowly. He could smell the blood and urine almost before he stepped onto the porch. He moved into the house only after Misha gave him a gentle but firm push from behind.
    The living room looked like something that only a blind person could enjoy. The pink in the room ranged from neon to something that was even gaudier than that…pink furry pillows, pink shag rug, and hurt-your-retinas-pink walls. The decorations, big pink flowers with equally bright green stems, graced the walls. There was even pink in the giant squares of yarn that hung from the back of the couch. The coffee table had been spray painted to match, but whoever had done it hadn’t bothered to remove the glass tops and they, too, were sprayed with the ungodly color. Carter felt his stomach lurch. They were directed down the hall when they asked about where the girl had stayed.
    The bathroom they passed was done in purples , much in the same manner as the living room as it was too much. It looked like someone had even tried to spray paint the color on the toilet and the seat, and had hit the wall behind it as well as the floor. Christ, he was nauseous and would never have been able to take a piss in that room.
    At the end of the hall they stood in front of a closed door. Carter was almost afraid to open the door, but Misha did before he could touch it. Carter took a step back from the room in shock.
    The starkness in the room, the sterile whiteness of it , was actually comforting after the excess of color in the other rooms. He walked in just as Misha cleared the doorway.
    A white spread fit neatly over a small single bed. The single pillow was also white , but there was a small stain on the center of it. Blood from long ago was all Carter could think.
    There were no pictures on the wall s, nor a single poster. The dresser was devoid of anything at all…not even a hair brush or a bottle of perfume. The end table had a lamp, a white one with a shade that was so pale a blue that he had to look hard to see it. It was the only color that marred the perfectly pristine room. There was also a book, but it had fallen to the floor or had been put there to hide it. Carter walked over to read the title.
    “It’s William Wordsworth. In French.” Misha picked it up from the floor before taking it to his nose. As he set it back where he’d found it, something occurred to Carter. “Aren’t you reading this, too?”
    Misha didn’t answer him but walked around the room , stopping only to pick up a white sock that had missed the equally white laundry basket. He held it for a long while before dropping it on the small