Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
But she didn’t come out. Stubborn through and through. It had to make him weird that he liked that about her. He turned the knob and walked inside… only to freeze as he found the room empty. “Fuck.”
Jolene placed two steaming mugs on the square coasters of the mahogany coffee table. “Drink your tea, sweetheart. It’ll relax you.” She then sat on the couch beside Martina and crossed her legs. “Feeling any calmer?”
Holding a soft cushion to her chest, Harper settled deeper into the overstuffed armchair. “Not really.” She’d tucked a fleecy blanket around her legs, just as she’d often done as a child. When she’d visited Jolene over the years, she’d curled up in that chair many times – sometimes with a book, sometimes snacks, while she watched a movie with her cousins.
She loved her grandmother’s house. Loved the welcoming feel of it. It always smelled of cookies, coffee, and lavender. Tonight, there were also a hint of the light rain coming through a partially open window.
It wasn’t a quiet house, since her relatives were always waltzing in and out for one reason or another. The kids in particular showed up a lot, hoping Jolene had made her famous cookies. But even though it was a constant hub of activity, it was relaxing. Maybe because it was so homey with all the throw cushions, blankets, and the earthy colors. There were framed photos, keepsakes, and knickknacks everywhere. Like Harper, Jolene treasured memories.
“You know why he’s angry,” said Jolene.
“Sure I do. But I’ll be damned if I apologize for what I did.” Or for being who she was.
“I wouldn’t expect you to. But imagine being in his position.” Jolene picked up her coffee. “Imagine you received a weak telepathic call from him. Imagine you then arrived at his office to find him sprawled on the floor, not moving. Tanner’s been shot, and Crow has a gun. How would you react?”
In a word, badly.
“Knox was scared, sweetheart.” Jolene blew over the rim of her mug. “Now, sure, he knew you were alive because the anchor bond was still in place. But I’ll bet he wasn’t thinking of that when he saw you lying there. Panic and fear probably took over.”
Harper could understand that, could even sympathize. But it didn’t erase how much his words hurt. Her demon was imagining lots of wonderful ways it could make him suffer. “It still doesn’t give him or his demon the right to be an asshole.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jolene agreed. “Which was why I sent Ciaran to teleport you here. That comment about you not being someone who keeps their word was a shitty thing to say.”
Martina nodded, painting her long acrylic nails red. “People say things they don’t mean when they’re angry, but that’s no excuse.”
“It pisses me off that he said that,” Ciaran told Harper, his eyes glued to the TV as he lounged on the reclining chair; beer in hand, remote controls on his lap. “But I don’t believe he really thinks that of you.”
“Neither do I,” said Jolene.
Harper tightened her hold on the cushion. “Maybe. Maybe not. But if he can’t accept that I’ll do what I have to do to protect him, consequences be damned, then he doesn’t accept me.”
Jolene sipped at her coffee. “He accepts you, Harper. He just doesn’t know what to do with you. He’s used to things and people being under his control.”
Yeah, she knew that. “I warned him over and over that he’d never control me.”
“Maybe some really, really dumb part of him thought it wasn’t true,” suggested Ciaran.
“Men,” scoffed Martina. “You’re attacked, but does he hug you? Kiss you? Reassure you that you’re fine? No, he behaves like a dick.”
Ciaran tore his eyes away from the wall-mounted TV. “That’s not because he’s a man,” he said, offended on behalf of his gender. “It’s because he isn’t good at handling fear.”
Whatever. Harper sighed. “Let’s just talk about something else.”
Jolene patted her hand. “Of course.”
Harper leaned her head on the cushion, listening to the kids laughing as they jumped in the puddles in the front yard. Each time she heard a car approaching, she panicked; wondering if Knox had come for her. But then the car would drive by, and her heart rate would slow down.
“I’m glad they’ve caught Crow,” said Jolene.
That had Harper thinking. “Something he said bothered me.”
“Knox or Crow?” asked Martina.
“Crow,” Harper replied.
Martina blew on her nails to dry the paint. “You mean the demon baby thing?” She said it with no concern whatsoever.
“No. He said he was on a mission; that someone told him to do this.”
“He’s suffering from delusions, sweetheart,” said Jolene.
“I know.” Harper lifted her mug and took a sip of her tea. “It was just something about the way he said it. What if he didn’t have a true vision? What if someone manipulated his mental state and put the idea in his head?”