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I shook my head, my lips twitching in puzzled amusement. My life was just one bizarre thing after the next. How could he be so relaxed and not think this was weird?
Gingerly, I stepped over him and sunk down on to the blanket. I stretched my legs out in front of me and crossed my feet at the ankles. I sat back with my elbows to the blanket and looked over at Ty to see he'd dragged the basket closer and was digging through it.
Curiosity got the better of me and I couldn't help but ask, "What do you got in there?" I really, really wanted to know.
He pulled out a Tupperware container and placed it on the blanket between us. Next came a box of crackers. "Cheese, meat, and crackers," he explained.
Next, he pulled out a thick black book with no markings on it. "This is a journal that used to belong to my mother. She wrote in it every day for as long as I can remember. I like to come here when I miss her. I bring her journal with me and I read. It makes me feel close to her."
That was both sweet and also made me incredibly sad for him.
"I thought maybe I could read some of it to you and maybe you might remember something about your own mother. Maybe you've got memories locked away in your mind that you don't even know are there. All it's gonna take is one little thing to push them to the surface. Maybe this will be the thing that does it, maybe it won't. Either way I thought it would be nice to share it with you."
I sat up straight and leaned over the Tupperware and the book. I brushed my lips across his cheek and sat back.
"If you had told me on the day I first met you that you could be one of the sweetest people I'd ever meet in my life, I'd have called you a liar right to your face."
He grinned at me, all big, bright, and blindingly beautiful. I wished he'd take his hair down from the man bun he sported at the back of his head so I could run my fingers through its soft silkiness. Maybe I'd get to after. If I asked him to take it down now, I figured things would go in a different direction and I'd miss out on hearing his mother's voice through her words written years ago on paper.
"I've apologized for that already," he reminded me. "Several times, in fact. I can be a dick, we both know that. Though, I think it's sweet that you think I'm sweet."
I rolled my eyes and reached for the Tupperware. I popped the lid, picked up a small cube of cheese, and tossed it into my mouth. It was extra sharp cheddar, and I knew he'd had to buy a block of it and cube it himself. It was my favorite. Cheese and crackers never got old. I could eat it once every day for the rest of my life. Though, I'd probably switch up what kind of crackers I ate every now and then, just to keep things interesting.
It was also our go-to snack every time we watched one of our shows together. He'd switch things up and add cashews or grapes to the mix. This time he'd skipped the extras and stuck to the basics.
I laid back on the blanket, munched on the goodies, and watched the light fade from the sky. All the while Tyson read to me about a woman that seemed incredibly shy, all kinds of sweet—like her son—and extremely nosy. People, it seemed, overlooked her because she was quiet and that was her opening. Being overlooked made it easy for her to watch and listen. She paid attention to everything, and in doing so learned all kinds of juicy secrets. All of which she wrote down in her journal. And they were damn good secrets.
Tyson also read me a passage she wrote about Quinton. She didn't refer to him as her brother-in-law or even Tyson's uncle. No, to her the two were brothers and she wished she could have kept him in her house with her always so she could raise him right alongside his brother.
She seemed like a lovely but interesting woman, and it made me very heartbroken to know I'd never get to meet her.
Before I knew it, the sound of Tyson's gentle voice had lulled me to sleep.
* * *
I stretched, rolled over onto my side, and opened my bleary eyes.
The first thing I noticed was that it was dark, and dark in a way where I knew I was outside and it was not a starry night. The second thing I noticed was that it was cold and my body had started to shiver, which is probably what woke me. Or so I hoped that was all that woke me.
The third thing I noticed? I was all alone on the blanket and Tyson was nowhere to be seen. I was going to wring his neck when I found him for leaving me alone out here. That is, if he hadn't been dragged into the woods by some deranged man with an axe who wanted to chop up his body and drink his blood like some kind of serial killer/vampire.
I sat up in a rush and quickly looked around to make sure I was alone and that axe man wasn't sneaking up on me too. Thankfully—depending on how you looked at it—I was still all alone.
I grabbed my purse and dragged it into my lap. I rooted around inside until I found my cell phone and pulled it out. The bar had turned from green to red, meaning my battery was low. I didn't want to be out here aloneandwith no phone.
Yup, I was totally going to kill Tyson when I found him. Even if he was in pieces. I'd just have to glue him back together again just so I could rip him apart. I'd do it.
I ignored the twenty-five unread text messages and the thirteen—oh boy!—missed phone calls. It was one of the things that went along with having so many men in my life and an outrageously overprotective father that I now had to deal with.
I pulled up Tyson's contact information and pressed call. The phone didn't even ring but went straight to voicemail. What a lovely time for his phone to be off. Also, and more importantly, what an asshole.
I pulled up the group chat, ignored all the rest, and scanned through the latest. We had two different group chats. One for just the coven. Meaning me and the guys. And the other one included all the stragglers we'd picked up along the way.
Quinton, who was also an asshole much like his nephew, I must note, had chosen not to text the private coven chat, but instead had gone ahead and texted the big group chat hours and hours ago to let freakingeverybodyknow about my taking off on a motorcycle with one Tyson Alexander.
He was a damn traitor.
And, going by the text messages, Rain had gone into a bit of a rage.
