Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
That thing that lived invisibly in my body, side by side with my soul and my organs, flexed, reminding me it was there.
That it was always there and always would be. Whether I understood it or not. Whether I wanted it or not.
But I was going to keep my promise to Henri, so all I allowed myself to do was lean clear around the tree so the mean bigfoot could get a good look at me. He already knew I was here. I might be a fraction of his size and didn’t have his physical attributes, but I didn’t need either to defend myself.
And that’s why I let my anger and hurt get the best of me, and I yelled the first thing that popped into my head. “The only abomination here is your dry-ass hair, Fabio!”
You could get a lot done without stooping to words like “evil” or “asshole.” If you made an insult personal enough, it could be almost as hurtful as something really nasty.
It worked.
“You dare tell me that my hair is dry?” the big jerk hollered back.
“Being insulted isn’t very nice, is it?” I yelled again, focusing on the hairy being as I took a step back until I was a little more behind the tree. I didn’t want to totally go back on my word.
“My hair isn’t dry!” Spencer roared.
Some people couldn’t take their own medicine. He could call me a demon, but I couldn’t talk about his hair? The Jenny Greenteeth from yesterday wasn’t the only little b around here.
“Do you have any idea what that is?” the hairy mythical being demanded, aiming the question toward the group.
I made the mistake of peeking at Henri again, but that time, his attention was centered on me. Just me. His eyebrows were a hard line on his tan forehead, and his expression….
Maybe I should’ve stayed in the golf cart.
The bigfoot let out a roar even louder than the ones before. The only person who reacted was Henri, who took a couple of steps so he stood directly in the path Spencer had to where I was. Was he blocking him from seeing me?
“You’ve allowed a curse onto this land,” Spencer the Asshole spat, and I could literally see the muscles under Henri’s flannel shirt tense.
Did he call me a curse? That was a new one.
“The only curse here are your split ends,” I muttered, insulted all over again.
If the log that randomly landed a good distance to my right meant anything, I was pretty sure he’d heard me.
What a jerk!
It had barely landed when Henri bent over, picked up a log—not a small one, not one that he should have been able to lift singlehandedly or much less barehanded—and hoisted it onto his shoulder. In one fluid movement, he threw the log like a javelin. It landed several feet to the side of Spencer. I guess I wasn’t the only person who thought Spencer may have just tried to hurt me.
“Enough!” Henri’s dominant voice echoed through the forest.
I’d swear on my life that even the birds stopped singing at the sound of it. The wind might have stopped blowing too. Everything in our vicinity seemed to freeze for a moment. I was pretty sure the only thing I heard was Henri taking a deep breath before speaking again.
“If you have a problem with the agreement we’ve made, leave. This is getting old. Do this again, and I will escort you off this land. Threaten my people again, verbally or physically, and I’ll still do it, but it’ll be with two broken legs.” The growl he let out was a freaking menace. “Am I making myself clear?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
In that moment, I didn’t think I’d ever been so attracted to anyone in my life.
A strong breeze made the younger trees sway and sent dust motes swirling around us like a dream. I saw the moment the bigfoot really got a good sample of my scent. He must have had a crappy sense of smell if it had taken him that long to go from throwing around ugly words to looking uneasy.
I needed to ask about my bracelet.
Henri took a step toward the mythical being. “Are we on the same page?”
Spencer’s beady black eyes flicked from where I was to the semicircle of werewolves he was surrounded by. He was silent for longer than I would’ve expected. “Yes,” the bigfoot grunted.
It was kind of amazing how well he blended into his surroundings as he retreated one step at a time. How the color of his hair—coat?—matched the trees like natural camouflage. He never turned his back on us.
When he’d finally disappeared into the trees, the man who had been my first childhood crush slowly turned to face me.
I threw up both my hands. “I stayed out of the way.”