AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ve never fallen in love or forgotten you.” I twisted in my seat. “Stop being a drama king.”
“Forgotten,” he moaned. “Unloved.” He slumped over on the bench. “Forced to live on pumpkin spice.”
Asa got in, took one look in the backseat, and shook his head. “He’s been like this for hours.”
“A giant crybaby?”
“The oven was broken at the coffee shop near our hotel,” Asa explained. “He hasn’t had a single baked good all day.”
“Poor baby.” I reached back and patted Clay’s leg. “I promise you a full breakfast in the morning.”
Asa cut his eyes toward me. “You have work tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Yep.” I checked the time. “In about three hours.”
“You don’t want to nap?”
“I’m too wired.” I slid my hand down one of his braids. “I might as well stay awake.”
A soft purr rumbled in his chest as I toyed with the end of his hair, which reminded me.
“Aedan wants to talk to you about touching me.”
Clay shot upright, leaning forward until his nose almost bumped mine. “Do tell.”
“The hair thing, you pervert.” I shoved him back. “He wants to know the rules.”
“I’ll speak with him tomorrow, but the general rule of thumb is what applies to me applies to you too.”
“And when do you plan to talk to your dad and explain that what applies to you only applies to you?”
“I’ve requested an audience with him.” Asa’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “It could be a few days.”
“Great.”
Colby greeted us at the door, but her usual enthusiasm was absent, even with Clay’s arrival.
“Everything okay?” I coaxed her onto my shoulder. “Did something happen while I was gone?”
“I cracked the code on the tags.” She leaned against my cheek. “They’re all registered to the Devlin Wildlife Center.”
“That’s good news.” I scratched her back. “It means the creatures all come from the same place.”
“The sanctuary is…” Her antennae rustled. “It’s funded by a trust.”
“Okay.” I leaned back to see her better. “What’s wrong?”
“The trust was established in the name of Amalthea Vonda Winterbourne.”
A metallic taste flooded my mouth, and my ears buzzed with a high-pitched whine.
Clay, who grasped the heavy significance of the name, clapped his hands once, snapping our attention to him and buying me time to pick my jaw up off the floor before Asa noticed and started asking questions.
Amalthea Vonda Winterbourne.
Mom’s maiden name.
What did she have to do with this? With any of this? Why hadn’t I known? What else didn’t I know?
