Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” I breathed. “Fucking fuck.”
My sweet principal, the man I loved more than anyone, was scared out of his fucking mind and determined to push through it. And there wasn’t a damned thing I could do except be there for him and help keep him safe.
For the first time, I thought I might understand why the Ventdestinians relied so much on their damn winds “whispering fortune.” The fear I felt for Zane—for his safety and for the emotional toll this was taking on him—was so huge I might have actually listened to superstitions if it meant keeping him whole and protecting his heart.
As I lay in bed that night, staring at my darkened ceiling, though, the winds weren’t whispering a goddamn thing. All I knew for sure was that Zane was not fine…
But that I would make sure he was, as soon as possible.
Even if it fucking killed me.
FIVE
ZANE
Bears in the wild are known to chase off scavengers. Nobody’s getting a free meal on their watch! Bears respect those who work hard for their food, and they’ll send uninvited guests running before sacrificing an ounce of their honey.
—Bear Facts for Insomniacs, Episode 8
“There he is, my sweet punkin.” Gran stood proudly on the front porch of the house she’d lived in for as long as I could remember. Nowadays, it was practically unrecognizable since I’d bought up three vacant lots around it and forced a big renovation on her about five years ago. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the upside-down horseshoe over the front door for luck and to ward off bad spirits.
As I got out of the dark SUV, I tried not to notice the eight other vehicles crowded in Gran’s driveway. I knew from experience she didn’t see any reason to say no when all of our extended family insisted on swinging by “just to say hey” to “good ole Zee.”
“Fucking Christ,” Bear muttered under his breath from where he stood holding the door open for me. He stretched his head from side to side before murmuring into his wireless earbud, “Lou, get Boomer to run those plates.”
I sighed. “White truck with the Jesus stickers is my uncle Bart. Gray Malibu is my second cousin Pearl. Red Trans Am is my cousin JK. I think the yellow Jeep is my high school friend Carrie-Beth. Brown minivan with the Coexist sticker is Aunt Rinny. No clue who drives the motorcycle, but that’s pretty sick.”
“You will not be taking a ride on anyone’s motorcycle,” Bear warned too low for anyone to hear.
I ignored him and trotted up the three steps and into Gran’s arms. “Hey,” I said, inhaling her Jean Naté bath splash and the scent of french toast and syrup. “God, I missed you.”
“Gosh,” she corrected out of habit. “And I missed you, too, angel.”
“Boy, when you gonna get a haircut?” The boisterous voice of my uncle Bart came from inside the open front door a split second before his wide body sauntered through it. He met my eyes over Gran’s shoulder and winked at me. “Good to see ya, son.”
I moved away from Gran to give Bart a quick hug, even though his use of the word “son” in reference to me had begun at exactly the same time my family began to realize I had money. It wasn’t until my first recording deal that some of my extended family perked up and took notice of me.
I felt Bear’s presence behind me as I backed out of the awkward hug with my uncle. Bart was definitely not Bear’s favorite of my family members, and I couldn’t blame him. Bart tended to drink too much beer and make pointed comments about people’s “lifestyle choices” when the night was no longer young.
Even though, as I’d told Landry, Bear was (probably, almost definitely, despite my many fantasies) straight, he was a staunch ally. He’d never once side-eyed me or my friends when we talked about being with other guys, and he was completely accepting of the members of the brotherhood who had partners now.
I’d been the recipient of plenty of homophobic comments by the general public, and I could tell it got under Bear’s skin. But then again, any threats against me got under his skin. He took it as a personal affront when one of his principals was under threat.
It was simply part of his job. And he took his job seriously.
Pearl’s voice called from inside the house. “Zee’s here! Quick, hide your abs!”
I let out a laugh as I walked through the door. “Ain’t no abs in this place, girl. You should know that by now.”
My cousin JK and several guys I didn’t recognize but were clearly JK-adjacent glanced up from the big sectional sofa in the family room, where sports coverage was playing before today’s football games started. JK made a point of stretching backward over the cushions and pulling up his faded red Bulldogs T-shirt to show he did, in fact, have abs. They were just hidden under a manscaping nightmare.