I cackle. “Fuck them off, or fuck them, fuck them like you would fuck them?”
“Both. Neither. None. Whatever you like.”
I sigh. “Okay. I like this suggestion. I do feel a little bad because Holland has been practically begging me all week to come to his work event tomorrow night, but…I just can’t. I need a step back.”
She giggles. “Girlfriend, with a name like Holland, he’s practically begging you to run away.”
“I always found it kind of interesting,” I defend, and she guffaws, full-on gal-pal gossip engaged.
“Oh, please.Youwould think a name like that is interesting.”
“You bitch.”
I can hear her smile through the phone. “That’s right, baby. And proud of it. Every sweet gal like you needs a sidekick like me, and you know it.”
I nod, admitting, “I would be lost without you, I’m afraid.” Licking my lips, I force myself to ask the thing neither one of us wants me to ask, and yet the thing I know she needs me to the most. “How’s your dad?”
“Not his best. But hanging in there. We all are.”
“Lyss, if there’s anything I can do, you know—”
“Yeah, yeah, can it, you overworking troll. Worry about yourself for once, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Call me tomorrow if you want, when you get to Gammy’s. You can let me live vicariously through her cooking on the phone.”
“Your mom still struggling, huh?”
She chortles. “To put it mildly. My dad has always been the one with the kitchen chops.”
Instead of lingering on the sad note, I move on. I know she wants me to.
“Okay, you got it. I’ll call you when I’m safely to Gammy’s and regale you with tales of leftover pot roast, buttered biscuits, and chicken potpie.”
“Can’t wait.” I smile, but her voice drops just the tiniest of notes before continuing. “And, Ky?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful, okay? Just in case Rook is right.”
“I will. Promise.”
We hang up, and I switch my ringer to silent, toss my phone to the coffee table, and lean back on the couch.
I only mean to take a little rest before my bubble bath, but before I know it, I’m fast asleep.
Rook
As Friday morning comes, I’m up with the rise of the sun.
While vampires don’t need sleep to survive, living among humans for so long has forced me into the habit of pretending. I lie down at night like everyone else and close my eyes until daylight turns the back of my eyelids orange.
But last night was different. Worry plagued me, and a knot in my stomach got tighter and tighter by the hour. Kane and Calloway showed up around midnight and practically sat vigil over me, and now, while they shower in my bathroom and the guest bath of my two-bedroom, respectively, I find myself staring into the soft glow of the sky.
I stand on the porch, arms braced on the railing, jaw locked hard enough to hurt.
The more I stare, the angrier I get.
