Can chickens swim?
Which ear did Van Gogh cut off?
Do fish ever get thirsty?
Where does the word ‘pornography’ originate from?
Can cows from different countries understand each other?
Who came up with the alphabet?
When did humans start wearing shoes?
What’s the definition of an antihero?
“What a great idea,” Evan said. “God, I love how your brain works. This is fucking awesome.”
My hands stopped moving. “It is?”
“Course it is.” He reached out to skim his fingers along the list. “It’s like a window into your mind. I love it.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.” His hand dropped, finding its way to my hip. I knew I should push him off, but I didn’t. “Your mind fascinates me, Reid. I don’t understand it, but I want to.”
“Good luck with that,” I said sourly. “I’ve had twenty-three years to practise, and I don’t understand it.”
“I have a lot longer than that ahead of me,” he said distractedly as he continued reading my random musings. “I’ve got time.”
He did, because he was a shifter. He was immortal.
I, a human, was not.
The reminder was enough to have me stepping out of his hold and ducking around him. “I’ll start packing.”
There was a beat before Evan spoke. Was he trying to figure out what had made me suddenly move? “Are ye sure you don’t want help?”
“Nope.” I injected false cheer into my voice. “I’ll be quicker on my own. I know where everything is and what I need.”
Well, that was slightly optimistic, but it wasn’t like Evan lived far.
It also wasn’t like he was keeping me there against my will. I could return whenever I liked.
That made it easier to drag out my case from under my bed.I had to whack it a few times to shift the thick layer of dust. It hadn’t been touched since the day I’d shoved it under there.
A couple of days after I’d fled the Clarksons.
The irony that this was the first time I’d used it since didn’t escape me.
This time will be different. You won’t be trapped there.
Right?
I shook myself off as I began to haul clothes out of the various piles around my room. Of course it was different. Evan had said so himself. Besides, Chester wouldn’t stand for them keeping me there.
Why would they even want to?
That was the question that settled me the most. I wasn’t slave labour for the McCarthys. They didn’t have a vested interest in holding me hostage. If anything, they were putting themselves in harm’s way by doing so.
