Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Yes, Amelia. Where is she?” I hate using her fake name but keeping who we really are under lock and key right now is paramount.
“She left. Levi called us to come to the station. He said Adam was arrested and they think Jeremiah was killed in a car crash.”
“Yeah, it’s been a shitty day.”
“So…” She’s animated with her movements, and I don’t have the energy for it.
“So, can you take me home?” I pull the blanket away from Roza and drink her in. My sanity. My saving grace. My happiness. My reason for all of this.
“I suppose if you explain what the hell is going on,” Vika hisses, placing a hand on her hip.
“I don’t have all the facts, just what you’ve been told.” I notice Roza’s diaper bag and car seat have been left too. “Where did Rosetta go?”
“I don’t know. My God, Ally. Is Jeremiah actually dead?” she asks, her eyes wide, panic rising in her voice.
“Can you take me home or not?” I ask, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I need to get out of here.
“Fine. But you’re going to spill everything to me.”
As we make our way to her sleek, black convertible, I let out a groan while juggling the stroller and balancing the car seat on my hip. I can't help but notice how she delicately inspects her freshly manicured nails.
“You’ll need to put the roof up,” I mutter, frustration seeping into my tone.
“It’s a summer day! Why would we do that?” She blanches like I’ve suggested something offensive.
“Please, can you just put the roof up? You can lower it again as soon as you drop me off."
I seriously don’t want to argue with her, but she makes it difficult.
She arches an eyebrow, skepticism written all over her face. "Is this about keeping your hair nice?"
This woman isn't for real.
“No, Amelia, I have a child who needs to go in the back, and it will be safer with the roof up.”
“Ugh. This is what I mean about children.” She scrunches her nose in exasperation. “Never having them. Ever.”
“What are you going to do when your betrothed wants to have them?” I tease, imitating her words from the other night, and securing the car seat into the car. My little angel yawns but stays asleep.
I know Maddox wants kids because he talked about it often with Jeremiah, admiring our family unit. If she stays with him, he’s going to get babies out of her.
“Once we’re married, I’ll distract him with other pursuits,” she replies, a hint of mischief in her voice.
Oh God. I’m not even sure what that means, but I am sure I don’t want to know.
“You do realize you can hire nannies, right? We were practically raised by them.” I quirk an eyebrow playfully as I slide into the passenger seat. Her cheeks flush a deep red, and fine lines form around her eyes, revealing her discomfort.
“I’m not going to have nannies around for him to fuck and breed with, Ally. If anything from our past, I’ve learned that lesson.”
“Touché.”
We drive in silence, the steady hum of the engine the only sound between us, and I’m grateful for the reprieve from all the questions.
Once we reach the house, Roza is awake and giggling at one of her soft toys. Vika follows me inside, not carrying anything but her purse. Very helpful.
I gently place Roza in her booster seat at the table. Her eyes sparkle with delight, knowing food will follow. “Are you hungry, my little angel?” I ask, stroking a hand down her cheek.
I head to the kitchen to cut up some fruit, returning a minute later and placing it on her tray.
“Are you going to be all right?” Vika asks, her voice laced with fake concern as she purses her lips. “I don’t handle these situations very well.”
I can’t help but chuckle slightly. “Death, Vika? You don’t handle death well? Haven’t you lost a few boyfriends along the way?”
The thought brings a smirk to my lips. I have vivid memories of the numerous failed relationships she’s navigated, each leaving its mark, or a body.
“That was the old me. Don’t be bitter, Ally, it’s unbecoming,” she retorts and jabs a finger in my direction. “And stop using that freaking name.”
I cover Roza’s eyes and give Vika the middle finger.
“Charming,” she replies, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Do you need me to hang around, or can I go?”
She’s such an asshole. “We’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“Right, well, let me know what’s happening as soon as you find anything out.”
“Of course, you’ll be my first point of contact.”
Glancing at me with a mix of suspicion and concern, she says, “I can’t tell if you’re for real or just being difficult.”
“Difficult. Always,” I confirm with a smile.
She rolls her eyes and wiggles her fingers to signal her departure.