Hoot steps closer to him, clearly wanting those pets that Marx was just offering, and Marx gurgles out a weird combination of groan and squeal before he leaps away. Hoot suddenly thinks this is some kind of game and proceeds to trot after him, a steady stream of toots going off like machine-gun fire in his wake.
Rogan runs to a set of sliders and pulls them open. “Run!” he yells at his friend. “Lose him in the trees, or there’s no hope for you,” he calls after as Marx books it into the backyard with Hoot, Gibson, and Tilda hot on his trail.
I have no choice but to run to the guest room by now, holding my crotch and bargaining with my pee to not go anywhere until I say it’s okay. I’m still cracking up as I slam the door behind me and, in record time, strip down and commandeer the toilet. Laugh-tears drip down my cheeks, and I wipe them from my face, losing it again when I hear Marx scream from somewhere outside.
I love that dog.
After washing up, I head back out to the kitchen where I find Rogan talking to Elon while he makes a sandwich.
“You’re back,” I announce, surprised, and then Rogan moves over, and I catch sight of my girl.
I gasp. “Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much,” I exclaim and then open my arms and sprint across the massive space.
Rogan looks amused, and Elon looks momentarily confused before he opens his arms, clearly expecting my hug trajectory to take me to him. I run right past him, wrapping the espresso maker up in a bear hug so tight that it communicates how much I’ve missed her and that I never want to leave her again.
“It’s you and me forever, you got that?” I promise her, closing my eyes to revel in the feel of her cool metal outside and the magic all her parts create inside.
“What the hell just happened?” Elon mumbles. “Did I seriously just get pushed aside for the coffee maker?”
“Don’t take it personally,” Rogan reassures him. “I barely make the cut. Pretty sure she was open to forgiving me because I read the instruction manual and know all its tricks.”
“You’re not wrong,” I confirm, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. “Please make her scream my name,” I beg, and Elon chokes on air as Rogan offers me a wide grin and a shake of his head that sayswhat am I going to do with you.
He trades me places and starts touching the espresso machine in all the right ways. “Fuck, that’s hot,” I purr at Rogan, and his eyes turn molten and playful.
“You two are making me uncomfortable,” Elon announces evenly, and I turn to him, almost forgetting that he was there.
“How’d everything go? Did Tad and Hillen get settled in okay?” I ask.
As if his name conjured him, Tad walks out from the direction of the stairs, in sweats and ruffled wet hair. Bewilderment crashes through me as I take him in, and then worry inundates me as questions stack up in my mind.
Did something happen when they were going to the safe house? Where’s Hillen? Why didn’t Elon call to tell us?
“Don’t get mad, Len,” Tad commands, and my eyes narrow at the instruction.
“Tad, what the hell did you do? You’re supposed to be at some safe house I’m not allowed to know about so it can’t be tortured out of me!” I shout at him, all thoughts of a coffee-making hot-as-sin Blood Witch fleeing my dirty, dirty thoughts.
“I was,” he shouts back. “But then Elon was leaving, and I just couldn’t do it.”
“Couldn’t do it?” I demand, confused.
“No, I lost you once already, and I’m not going to sit aside and let it happen again. Elon and I already discussed it,” he announces as though that makes it all final.
“Oh, you did, did you. You discussed it?” I snarl, aiming a glare at Elon.
Rogan moves toward me, sending me all the calming vibes through our tether, but I shut that shit down. “Elon, it’s not safe here,” I start, but Tad cuts me off.
“Actually, Lennox, it is. It’s safe here inside this house or inside Elon’s house. They designed them that way. Elon, Ma, and I all already agreed. I’m stayinginthe house where it’s safe. I won’t take any unnecessary risks. I will not get in the way, I’ll only help where I can while staying completely safe and secure at all times.”
I open my mouth to argue. The only problem is I’m struggling to grasp on to anything I can argue about. He’s right, Rogan’s house and Elon’s house are mini bunkers. There’s no one getting in here unless we let them in. The plan is to take the fight to the High Council anyway, so there’s really no reason at all that Tad couldn’t be perfectly fine here.
“What about Hillen?” I counter, raising my eyebrows in a very mature declaration ofthere, take that.
“She’s calling the rest of the family we actually care about and getting them to safety. She understood that I needed to be here, and she was fine with it.”
I scoff. “Oh please, she wasfinewith it?”
He fidgets for a beat and shrugs. “Okay,fineis a stretch. She said, if anything happened to either one of us, that she’d spend the entire afterlife kicking our asses,” he admits.
