Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Frida also seemed to just be cooling off for a long few moments before she turned away from the window, and curled up with her head on my lap.
I ran my fingers over her soft coat, finding something meditative in the motion, letting it calm my still frantic heartbeat as we left Miami behind us.
I didn’t often leave the city I called home.
Namely, of course, because I didn’t drive.
I mean, I could.
I had a driver’s license. At least, I was relatively sure it was still active. But I’d long since sold my car.
It seemed silly, when you lived in a walkable city, to pay for car insurance and maintenance. Especially when driving made you anxious as hell anyway.
Selling that car was actually what had paid for my camera that I used to take the pictures for my site.
It was the longest ride I’d taken in a car in a long time, but it felt like it passed in a blink by the time the driver was pulling up to the sidewalk.
“This is you, hon,” he said, waving toward the street.
“Oh, okay. Great,” I said, suddenly regretting getting in the cab, pointing him in this direction.
Why the hell would I have gone to Alaric’s home instead of the police station?
What had I been thinking?
I hadn’t.
That was the problem.
I’d kind of just gone with what I wanted. Which, apparently, was Alaric. Instead of what was needed, what was smart, what a person in possible trouble actually did.
Go to the police.
Not the guy you were having steamy dreams about.
It was too late now, though.
“Keep the change,” I said after passing the driver a hundred.
“Nah, hon,” he started to object.
“No, really,” I said, starting to slide out of the backseat. “Thanks,” I called as I led Frida out, then slammed the door.
I watched the cab pull away until it was out of sight before looking down at a confused Frida.
“This was a very, very stupid mistake,” I told her, exhaling hard.
Why had I gotten out of that cab?
Instead of telling him to just drive me back, drive me to the police station?
My brain wasn’t working right. Clearly. That was the only explanation.
“Well, we’re here now,” I said, petting her head, then turning to look at the house we’d been dropped off at.
Alaric’s house was a sweet, old little bungalow with a lovely front porch, and a somewhat overgrown yard, and a mostly broken picket fence. I loved the cheery blue color the previous owners had painted it, but it was crying out for a fresh coat.
I didn’t see his motorcycle, but there was an oversized shed near the top of the driveway that could have served as storage for it.
“Well, here goes nothing, girl,” I said, taking her with me up the front path, almost knocking some loose penny bricks free as I stepped up them.
My heartbeat was skittering around in my chest as I lifted my hand to ring the bell.
Hearing nothing when I hit it, though, I opted to knock as well.
But nothing.
No sound or movement inside.
“Uh oh,” I said, wincing down at Frida who was giving me This is weird, but I’m choosing to trust you look. “Looks like this was an even bigger mistake than I realized.”
And with no way to call a cab or ride-share, we just had to… wait.
In the heat.
“Thank God for the front porch,” I said, moving to sit down on the bricks, suddenly bone-deep exhausted.
Frida lowered herself down next to me, and I was glad I still had water for her, even if I was going to go without, unless I got desperate enough to hit up the hose. If he had one.
“I’m sorry I screwed the whole day up, girl,” I said, rubbing her head as she rested it down on her paws.
The great thing about dogs, though, was they really didn’t care what you were doing. They just wanted to be with you.
Eventually, she slept.
I sat awake. Worrying. Second-guessing every move I’d made that day. Kicking myself for my poor decisions. Starting with leaving my cell at home. And going right up to stepping out of that cab in front of Alaric’s house.
I had no way to tell the time, but I was sure at least two hours passed as we sat there. Me, sweating even further through my clothes. Frida… sleeping. Likely exhausted from her forced foray into long-distance running.
I was starting to wonder if I should start walking, try to find a store or something. If absolutely nothing else, I could buy a burner phone, put some minutes on it, and get back to my life.
Just when I was about to wake up Frida, though, I heard it.
A low rumble that got louder by each passing second.
If I thought I’d been anxious when I’d shown up on his doorstep, it was amped up times a thousand from sitting there for hours stewing over my decision to do so.