Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I wish I could say I haven’t really done that, and it’s just my panicked mind that’s telling the tallest of tales, but alas…
I’m so fucked.
“R-e-g,” I stammer again, turning each letter into a syllable. “What are you doing here?”
He crosses his arms, trying to look bigger than he is. I know what he’s doing. I’ve seen it before. He might know me, but I also know his tells. My face might be projecting all sorts of things it shouldn’t be, and I might want to find a hole to die in, but nope. It looks more like I’m going to have to pick a hill to do that on instead.
What that hill is, I’m not entirely sure, but I know there’s one.
A Warrick-shaped hill in the middle of my chest.
“It’s my dad’s house.”
Facts: This man lied to me and tried to get me killed. That event led directly to me getting hired here. I haven’t done anything wrong. I have every right to stand my ground.
What I don’t have the right to do is fall for Reg’s dad. Or kind of dad. Technically still his dad. Whatever I do, I have to keep that from showing.
I force my eyes open wide. Obscenely wide. If Reg sees them twitch, he’ll know for sure that something is off.
“What are you doing with your eyes?”
I don’t blink. I keep staring until my eyeballs are one step away from rolling out of my head and sticking to the front doorstep.
“Nothing,” I answer.
“You’re doing something strange with them.”
“No, I’m not.”
In typical Reg fashion, he rolls his own eyes dismissively. “Whatever. Get some eye drops. I think you need them.”
I cross my arms. There’s no way I’m budging from this doorway until I know why Reg is here. My protective guard dog hackles are up in full force. I can practically hear Booty Sue hooing in the back of my mind. Not all guard dogs are built equal, but they’re all super cute.
All the same, my hackles are now engaged.
“You’re here,” I state flatly. It’s another version of my earlier question without repeating it. Well, mostly.
I don’t state that this is the first time he’s probably ever visited this place. I don’t remind him that he doesn’t talk to his dad. Things have changed. For all I know, maybe Warrick asked Reginald to come. He’s trying to get him on the straight and narrow. I asked him to do that. No, I begged him.
Maybe he came to thank his dad. To tell him that he’s sorry and wants a relationship.
The scrappy part of me that I didn’t know was a thing beats on her cavewoman breast at the thought of Reginald coming here because he wants something from Warrick. I can’t stand the thought of Warrick being hurt.
Ugh, that’s me. Maid by day, werewolf door guardian by night.
Because aren’t werewolves just a shade cooler than regular dog door guardians?
You know what would be cool?
The robot dog.
I wish I were good at programming so I could write its code to read people’s innermost thoughts and emotions and chase the bad ones away with really bad robot dog farts made to work with the world’s most toxic fart spray. Maybe it’s something Warrick could do.
“You’re here because…” I prompt. For a third time. “It’s the middle of the day.” If Reginald wanted to talk to his dad, he should have assumed he’d be at work. Maybe he already tried there and was told Warrick wasn’t in.
“I wanted to come see if what Candice said is true. That you’re living here now.” Reg always calls her by her name. Apparently, since he was a legal adult, she insisted on it.
“Here? No. I don’t live here.” Technically, he means the house. Well, I don’t actually live in it. My quarters are around the back. There’s a big difference.
“But you work here.”
My eyes are starting to waver. I’m going to need those darned eyedrops Reg so thoughtfully suggested. “Your dad offered me a job after I was fired from mine when some thugs showed up and intimidated my boss and all the other employees.”
This selfish little turdbag doesn’t even have the grace to look guilty about his actions. A wild vine of true anger wraps around my throat, but far from choking off my oxygen, it actually gives me a burst of fury equal to the task of doing what I should have done long ago. Telling Reg off.
“Those thugs smashed my teapot collection. They ruined my apartment. They also tore up and destroyed pretty much everything I owned. They threatened my family, and they were going to try and break my granny in half. Thankfully, your dad didn’t just pay them off. He replaced the money you stole from me and my family. How can you just…how can you hurt people so casually?”