Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
His jaw ticks, then he drops his head, cursing beneath his breath. His grips the gun tight again, swaying it.
“What kind of idiotic shit is that?” he growls. “Why not just take matters into your own hands? What the hell do we need the cops for?”
“I don’t know, but that’s just how it is. Think of the cops as The Council in Vakeeli. I know the rules are dumb and unfair, but please, Caz, I’m begging you. We don’t need this right now. It’ll only set us back.”
I move toward him, reaching for his hand that has the gun. Carefully, I take it away, placing it on the side table. He stands there, body rigid, breathing hard through flared nostrils.
“I want to kill him, Willow. I don’t know him, never seen him, but I want to murder him. He’s tormenting you!”
“I know, I know. But you can’t.” When I wrap my arms around him, some of the tension melts from his body. Finally, he sighs and encloses me in his arms too.
“Earth and its restricting rules. Bloody ridiculous.”
I laugh. “Yeah, some of the rules do suck a little.”
There’s silence, only for a moment. “If he shows up while I’m here, I can’t promise I won’t hurt him, Willow. I mean that. If I see him, I’m putting every bullet I have in his head.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so instead I raise my chin and plant a warm kiss on his lips. “Can you just promise me no violence while you’re here?”
His brows pucker. “That’s an unreasonable thing to ask of me.”
“Caz.”
“Fine.” He holds me closer. “No violence on Earth. For you.”
I smile as he buries the tip of his nose in the crook of my neck. “Good. And we are going to see Phil. Sure, he might be crazy, but he could have answers. If we’re going to be traveling, we need to get you more clothes, so how about we go shop a bit? Take your mind off of wanting to murder people?”
His lips twitch. “Whatever you want, Willow Woman.”
Chapter 20
WILLOW
For me, Target runs are better done alone. Every time I go with Faye, she takes it upon herself to stop by every department. One time she browsed nearly every shelf and rack to declare what was and was not cute—even down to the bathroom and kitchen cleaners. Then she stopped by the electronics to ask one of the techs about a new device they had on display. So yes, going alone is always better because typically, I’m in and out.
Now, I’m shopping with Caz, and he is ten times worse than Faye. His hyperawareness is making me anxious, and he’s hardly paying attention to the clothes I select for him. Every time I ask if he likes something, he simply nods and glances at it before returning his attention to his surroundings. It’s come to the point where I’m selecting clothes I think he’ll like just so we can get the hell out of here.
I’ve never seen anyone so paranoid in public the way he is, and I’m sure others are noticing because mothers with children are pushing their red carts with haste to get past him. Every single male is being glared down. Even some of the employees have looked at him strangely. They’re probably assuming he’s up to no good. Because that’s the thing about Caz. He doesn’t look away when you lock eyes with him. He stares and stares and stares until the other person gives up and puts their attention elsewhere.
To a normal earthling, it’s intimidating and unnerving, and he’s doing it right now to a poor employee who’s placing clothes on a hanger next to one of the racks.
I smack Caz’s arm, my phone wedged between my ear and shoulder, and give him a stern eye.
“What?” He frowns, dropping his eyes to me.
“Stop staring at people like you want to rip their heads off,” I hiss away from the phone.
“He was staring at me first.”
“He doesn’t mean you any harm. He just works here. Jesus.”
Lou Ann’s voice comes through the phone again. “How many days do you plan on taking off?” she asks. I called her when we came to the men’s department. If I’m skipping town, I know she’ll be contacting me and wanting to meet so we can plan the next event.
“I think just a week,” I tell her. “Things are really crazy right now.”
“Why do you sound out of breath?” she asks around a mouthful of something. “Are you working out?”
“I sound out of breath?” I dump a pack of T-shirts into the red cart. If I do, it’s because I’m trying to focus on our conversation while also keeping an eye on my murderous mate. “Well, like I said, things are crazy. Will you be okay with me taking a week…maybe even two?”