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And now left on this table in a restaurant full of half-eaten meals, I’m alone. He wanted away from me so badly, he exploded through the window to expedite his exit.
Infuriated glowing eyes, loud and terrifying growling, pinning, hardness against me, and then gone.
***
“Erica?” Bailey pokes her head in, interrupting nothing but me being alone with my thoughts. “Are you okay?” she asks.
I must look so pathetic lying on the table.
I get to my feet and look around. “Yeah, I’m… uh…” I try to swallow down the lump in my throat as I smooth out my dress, “just dandy.” I squat to lift the fallen sugar packets, salt and pepper shakers, and the napkin holder.
Bailey helps.
Promptly, I burst into tears. She reaches out a hand and I’m about to take it when she pulls it back.
“Um…” She looks torn.
I search her face.
“Sorry. Uh… my first instinct is to give you a hug, but my father told me never to let a witch touch me.”
Not a surprise.
“He’s drilled it into me my whole life. But… come to my house. I’ll make you breakfast. We’ll talk.”
“If you’re that unsure about me, you really shouldn’t have me to your home.” I wipe my eyes with my sleeves.
“Are you going to be a problem?” she asks.
“I’m trying to fix the problem,” I advise then whisper, “I fucked everything up, so god knows what it’ll take.” Or what’ll be left of me when he cuts me out of his life permanently. “He won’t even talk to me. If he just talked to me, I could explain and then give him his options.”
“Let’s just get you out of here for now. You can figure the rest out later.”
***
We make our way on foot down the main street back the way I walked up earlier with the Brennan sisters and Cicely. We pass a few curious-looking people who greet Bailey and smile at me with curiosity. Some were probably in the restaurant when it got cleared out. Some people are now on front lawns and porches in little groups, obviously discussing what happened.
They’re trying to figure out who I am. If they knew who I was, I’m guessing they’d have different expressions on their faces. The kind of expression Lincoln and Cicely both wore first thing this morning.
I feel solidarity from Bailey, though we don’t talk while we walk toward the store. Once we pass the group of a half dozen or so people outside it, Cicely included, Bailey says, “I’m just down there. Still living with my parents.”
Cicely gives me a curious look with a chin jerk. I give her a tight smile and we keep going.
“Call me,” Cicely calls out to Bailey.
“Okay,” Bailey answers with a wave.
A handful of houses away from the store, the road begins to loop into a large circle of around thirty or forty cute family homes.
“This way,” Bailey says and leads me down the driveway of the second house on the right of the cul-de-sac. It’s a Cape Cod style home done in white and blue with meticulous landscaping.
“Wow. This is pretty,” I say.
“Mom loves working in the garden. She’s home. I’ll introduce you.”
“Oh… uh…” I nervously tuck my (probably wild) hair behind my ears. “I’m not sure I’m in a position to make a good impression on anyone’s mom.”
Bailey dismisses this with a wave of her hand. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll have to meet everyone eventually, right?”
We’re at the door and she’s reaching for the knob.
“Not necessarily,” I say.
“You’re Rye’s mate. This is home now. No?”
“Not if he requests to sever our connection,” I mutter.
Her body locks tight and she’s in frozen animation for a moment, her hand on the doorknob. “Do you want it severed?”
She looks into my eyes, and I know she knows the answer is no. But I answer with, “It’s complicated.”
Something prickles at the back of my neck, and I turn in time to see a giant wolf running toward us. It’s pretty startling seeing what looks like a super-sized wild animal running toward you, even if you know they’re supernatural. He’s suddenly, as if in slow motion, rising from four legs to two as the fur evaporates and the face morphs and tattoos appear on his arms. Jason Creed. A very naked, very large (all over) Jason Creed.
I try to work down a swallow and avoid the temptation of gawking at his crotch. He’s angry.
“Bay!” he clips. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Tried going for breakfast but Riley showed and went all… you know… so we left, but he took off on her and left her in Roxy’s alone. I’ve got her.”
“She doesn’t leave,” he warns.
“I’m not leaving your village until I talk to Riley. Just like I told Tyson and Lincoln,” I say.
Tyson made a point of showing up last night to let me know I needed to fix things with Riley. I made it clear that it’s what I’m here for.
