Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
She sighed. “I had lunch with my uncle and grandparents. It didn’t go so well.”
Pissed that the fuckers had upset her again, Trick felt his jaw harden. He didn’t voice his anger—she didn’t need to deal with his shit on top of theirs. He rubbed his nose against hers and skimmed one hand down her hair. “Want my wolf to go piss on their tires?” As he’d hoped, she laughed. It was a quiet, tired sound, but still.
“Nah, but I appreciate the offer.” Frankie released a sigh of pleasure as his fingers feathered over her nape. “I really don’t think I’ll make good company, but if you want to take your chances you can grab a beer and join me on the deck.” His face went all warm and lazy, and she figured it had pleased him that he hadn’t had to coax his way farther inside. Well, she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t want him there. That would just be stupid.
“I’ll take my chances.” Trick grabbed a beer from her stainless steel double-door fridge. Outside he settled on the rocking chair beside hers. “Sweet setup you’ve got here.” Especially with the hot tub and the monster grill.
He was guessing she’d made the sculptures. One was a black, twisted, rickety, evil-looking tree that contradictorily had beautiful white blooms dangling from the branches. The second was a large black chess piece that was peppered with moths and had six crows perched on top. Neither sculpture should have looked right in such a beautiful garden, but they gave it an edge and made it look better. Balanced out the natural perfection of the flowers.
“How’s your day been so far?” she asked.
“Dull, really.” Trick tossed her a smile. “Much better now.” He drank some of his beer. “What was the first sculpture you ever made?”
Thinking back, Frankie smiled. “It wasn’t very good. Or very big. It was a volcano. Someone with severe burns was crawling out of the top. You can imagine how horrified my grandparents were. They even sent me to a therapist.”
“A therapist?”
“Yeah. I remember feeling really frustrated that he asked why I’d chosen to make it. I tried explaining that I didn’t realize I was making it until it started to come together. He seemed to understand. Anyway, he told Marcia that using art as a form of expression was healthy, and that she should encourage the hobby. In that sense he did me a favor. You said you like to sketch. Is it something you’ve always done?”
Trick used the heel of one foot to gently rock his chair. “It was my mom who encouraged me to try it. I was a restless kid. Liked having something to do with my hands. She thought sketching might help relax me, and it did. Still does. But I can’t say I have a drive to create art. I can’t even call it a hobby. It’s just something I do sometimes.” He paused to sip at his beer. “The first time I saw one of your sculptures online was a few years back. I wondered if you made them to purposely disturb people. But I can see now that it’s more than that.”
Frankie frowned. “You saw one of mine years ago?”
“I looked you up, curious about what you were doing with your life.”
“Why?”
“I’m a curious guy. I was surprised by how well you’ve integrated yourself in the human world. I wondered why you hadn’t ever contacted the pack. In your position I’d have wanted to talk to the other half of my family and hear their side of things. I didn’t think for one second that you’d been fed lies. What exactly did the Newmans say happened to your parents?”
“That they both died in a car crash. They said my father’s name was Dustin Turner. Said he was loving and loyal and devoted to my mother. I know why my family lied, I just can’t help being pissed that they lied for so long.” She rubbed at her temple. “They’re not happy about me having contact with the pack. The way they see it, shifters stole Caroline from them.”
“That so? Well, they stole you from me, your paternal family, and the rest of your pack mates. I don’t think this will ever be a situation that works for everyone. You just have to do what you feel is best for you. So what do you want?”
Frankie took a long breath. “Pizza. I want pizza.”
His mouth curved. “Then we get pizza.”
Pulling out her cell phone, she asked, “What do you like on yours?”
“Anything except anchovies.” He waited until she’d finished the call to the pizza place before he spoke again. “I know a thing or two about feeling like you’ve disappointed the people who raised you.”
“Yeah?”
“My parents were loud supporters of Trey’s banishment. They hadn’t suspected I’d leave with him. Oh, they knew I was close to Trey and that I didn’t respect Rick, but they never anticipated that I’d go against their wishes. That was the way they saw it—that I was choosing Trey over them. I wasn’t. I was choosing what was right for me. They were so angry with me, but they were positive I’d run back there with my tail tucked between my legs.”