“I’m getting that sense,” I mumble.
“You remember Dennis,” she whispers.
“I don’t want to remember him,” I grit out.
“I know, but if Rylee has been through worse than she was…”
“I’ll hold it together.”
“No, you won’t. It means you care about her.”
“I can’t lose it. I won’t,” I insist.
“We’ll see,” she hums.
“Mom,” I sigh.
“If her abuser is alive, take it out on him.”
“Of course I will.” Dennis will never touch anything again.
“Did you meet her parents?”
“No. None of the shifters are biologically related. She hasn’t spoken of them, and I don’t think they are in her life. I’ve yet to learn why.”
“Damn, poor girl.”
“She’s loved, though. There is a snake shifter who has taken her as a sister. He’s protected her.” I’m trying not to be jealous of the relationship. I’m grateful, but the possessive part of me doesn’t want her relying on anyone but me."
“Be thankful, not grumpy, about it,” she orders.
“Grumpy?” I laugh.
“Remember, I raised you. I’m familiar with your moods and emotions.”
“Right,” I murmur. “I need to ask you a favor.”
“Anything.”
“Do not get on a plane tomorrow,” I command.
“What? Me?” she gasps.
“I hear the keyboard. Stop looking at tickets,” I say dryly.
“I wasn’t doing that,” she denies.
“Remember, I lived with you. I know a few things about you too.”
“Little shit,” she grumbles.
“Mom, I would love for you to meet her, but I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“Fine. I get it.”
“I promise, when she’s ready, you’ll be the first call.”
“I’m thrilled for you. Have you called Issy?”
