Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“How were they?” She did not greet me, but she did bend to scoop up both her kids in a move I’d seen many times before, I was still impressed.
“Harmony’s asleep. Dusk and Feather, as you can see, are ready for Momma to read a book and bedtime. How was Reiki?”
“Good,” she mumbled between planting kisses back and forth on the tops of their heads.
Dusk was trying to push her away with an ornery expression on his face.
Feather was giggling.
“So,” I began, “this is the gig. You do Reiki every Monday, either Mom or Dad, both of them or I come and look after the kiddos.”
She put the kids down and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Or, if that’s too much, every other week,” I went on.
“I’m not your charity case.”
“Sister, it’s two hours on a Monday night,” I pointed out.
“Every other week, I can go on my own because my babies are with their dads.”
Oh yeah.
Right.
“So, why don’t you?” I asked.
“Because I’m saving to buy a house, all right?” she snapped, like we hadn’t been conversing for about a minute and a half, but instead, I’d spent the last eight hours working her last nerve.
But…wow.
No wonder she was working so hard.
I smiled at her. “That’s so cool.”
She rolled her eyes and replied, “You can go now.”
Well, she did warn me she wasn’t going to thank me.
Whatever.
Time to instigate part two of my We’re Gonna Be Functional Sisters if It Kills Me, Dammit Plan.
“I went to see Knox before I came here.”
She arrested and her eyes got big. “What?”
“I stopped ’round to see him. He’d gone in without backup in whatever went down Thursday night. I wanted to ream his ass. I ended up arranging things so he could be comfortable and have food, then screaming in his face before I escaped, but I have to go back and bring more food and put away the food I ordered to be delivered.”
She stared at me.
“Yes,” I answered her unasked question. “I need my head examined.”
“I’m not sure,” she mumbled, wandering into the kitchen.
Wait?
What?
I got up from the floor where I’d been playing with the kids and followed her.
“You’re not sure about what?” I asked as she poured milk into Feather’s bottle.
“You know, I didn’t know you were doing all that vigilante stuff,” she said to the bottle.
Yeah, I’d outed myself (not to mention all of the Angels) with that through sobs and sniffles. This was right before I got a handle on it enough to make her pinkie promise never to tell Mom and Dad. She thought the pinkie promise was stupid and told me so.
She still pinkie promised, probably because she knew Mom and Dad would lose their minds if they ever learned about the Angels.
“And he has a point about you not doing it,” she concluded.
“Say what?” My voice was pitched high because…this was Dream.
Dream detested toxic masculinity. Dream thought marriage was an anchor on women. Dream thought women should rule the world (I was with her on that one). Dream would probably forgive you for murder before she’d forgive you for being a chauvinist pig.
She turned to me. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it. I’m saying he had a point about being the man in your life and not wanting you to do it.”
“He gave me an ultimatum,” I reminded her. “Him or the Angels.”
“Yeah, that was a dick move,” she said coming toward me.
This time, I got out of her way.
She scooped up Feather as she made her way to an armchair.
She settled in with her girl and offered the bottle.
Feather put her sweet little hands on it, gazed up lovingly at her momma and started sucking.
“I’m not sure I get you,” I said. “Are you saying I should have picked Knox? Or are you just saying I shouldn’t be an Angel?”
She studied me, and she did it very closely.
What she didn’t do was answer.
“Well?” I pushed.
“You want my opinion?” she asked quietly.
Well…
Um…
Damn.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever asked Dream’s opinion on anything.
Was that part of her damage?
“Yes, I want your opinion,” I replied.
“Okay then,” she launched right in. “I think it was a toxic asshole move to give you an ultimatum. You’d been together two weeks. That wasn’t his place then, and arguably never would be. Though, just sayin’, if you two had more time in, had built your foundation, were looking at a future together, then I’d hope you’d both discuss important stuff like that and understand your partner’s position on it. Definitely take it into account.”
Two huge things were happening to me all at once.
First, I was thinking my flakey, hippie-dippy big sister might be wise, and somehow, I’d missed that.
Second, I was inwardly squirming because she was right about big things like, oh, I don’t know…me putting my untrained, inexperienced ass on the line going after human traffickers and drug gangs, and my partner maybe not being at one with it, but even so, having that discussion like two grown-ass adults and figuring it out.