It was hours before everyone finally left. When they did, the kitchen was clean, everyone was fed, and the house was secure.
Ashley pretended she was fine as she read a book on the couch, but she hadn’t turned the page in ten minutes. Gran dealt with her fear by showing Prince the video from the cameras and watching for bugs the night vision picked up.
I watched them quietly, giving them the time they needed to process in their own way, but stayed close by.
Prince sat patiently on Gran’s lap, like an angel sent from heaven, comforting her.
Thoughts rapid-fired through my mind: Prince’s arrival on Violet’s doorstep a week ago, Finn’s visit, the black roses, Finn’s possessive, aggressive texts, the bloody ‘body’ left in the kitchen today.
What if Prince’s arrival wasn’t a blessing, but a curse?
“Violet, did Prince have a collar when you found him?” What if someone dropped him off with a tracker?
“No, and I didn’t find him; he found me. Why?”
I didn’t know why the difference mattered, but it wasn’t worth wasting time on.
“Just curious.”
“He’s not chipped either,” Ashley added. “I wanted to make sure we weren’t stealing someone’s pet.”
Knowing it was near impossible to inject a GPS tracker under a dog’s skin, I moved forward with the assumption it’d be impossible with a cat. I’d verify, but my confidence level was high.
“He’s my little angel,” Gran crooned.
“More like a demon,” Ashley teased.
“I think he’s a little of both.”
I texted John my thoughts concerning Prince, trusting him to follow up.Or tell me I’ve lost my marbles.
Soon after, Gran went to bed, and Ashley wasn’t far behind.
I read on the couch, with my gun and laptop on a TV tray just to my left. I glanced at the screen each time I reached the bottom of a page.
I’d only read two chapters when Ashley padded into the living room with green fuzzy slippers on her feet.Fucking adorable. As my eyes travelled up her uncovered legs, the word adorable stopped applying. I cursed the long strappy top she wore for hanging mid-thigh and disrupting my perfect view.
“Eyes up here, Casper,” she whispered as she walked closer.
I didn’t have to see her face to know she wasn’t okay; the tension in her shoulders spoke volumes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep.”Not surprising.
“Sit.” I patted the cushion next to me. Not waiting for an invitation, she snuggled up to my side. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer still.
“Whatcha reading?” She asked, her hand settling on my chest, no doubt feeling my heartbeat pick up pace.
“The Hobbit, by Tolkien.”
“So not a rom-com?” I missed her hand when she pulled it away to cover her laugh.
“No.” I dog-eared the page and put the book down. “Want to talk, or do you want quiet company?”
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.” I could hardly blame her for wanting company or needing comfort; the last few days had been hell.
