Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I don’t like grape,” Charlotte complained.
“That’s okay. I do. You can have the pink. Whatever flavor that is.”
“Pretty sure all the flavors are just ‘sugar,’” Christopher said. “How are my girls doing?”
“Wallowing,” I told him. “But together. Like a family.”
“Got room for me?” he asked, making his way toward the bed.
He scooted in behind me, sliding me between his legs. And I saw the smile Charlotte tried to hide.
“What? I don’t get an invite?” Liam asked from the doorway, Tuna at his feet.
He made his way toward the bed, taking up the spot at the foot, Tuna curled in at his side.
Sure, two of us were beaten and bruised.
And two of us were sick.
But curled up with them was the best I’d felt in a long time.
Judging by the look on the kids’ faces, they felt the same way.
Christopher’s lips pressed to my temple, and his arms wrapped around me.
I knew he felt it too.
Christopher - 1 week
The girls were on the mend.
Charlotte had a lingering stuffy nose but was mostly back to normal and was going back to school after the weekend.
Alara was still sleeping a lot, but it was impossible to tell if that was the flu, the aftereffects of the attack, or what.
Liam, on the other hand, was in the throes of body aches, fevers, and congestion.
So far, I’d somehow been lucky.
I figured if I got through the next day or two, I was going to avoid it completely.
Even with all the sickness and injuries, fuck, it was probably the best week of my life.
No more hiding what was going on.
I was in bed with Alara every night, sleeping with her on my chest, in my arms. Waking with her still there with me.
And getting to watch the kids fall all the more in love with her now that they knew she had no intentions of leaving.
There was a knock at the door as I slid one of the frozen lasagnas that had been dropped off into the oven.
“I got it,” I said when Charlotte and Alara looked up from their positions in the living room—Char on the couch, Alara beside it in her chair.
“Oh, hey,” I said when I saw Brio.
“Can I talk to you and Alara out here?” he asked, waving to the hall.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Alara, got a sec?” I asked.
Her posture stiffened, but she rolled over to the door and out of it, only managing to hit the jamb once.
“When Zeno was digging into Robin’s case, he found out that Robin left something kinda important behind,” Brio said. “Seems like she’d been hopeful about the future. She’d just adopted a kitten,” Brio told us. “When she was killed, they brought it to the shelter. But they’re overrun. And it’s a kill shelter. And he’s… not the most desirable kind—a black cat with yellow eyes.”
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Alara asked, nodding toward the box sitting against the wall.
“I figured I’d give you guys the option to decide if you want to give him a home or not. He’s vetted, fixed, and dog tested. Know your girl liked our cats.”
Alara looked at me, eyes just the tiniest bit round.
“It’s your decision,” she said, even though her answer was all over her face.
“That’s not how this works,” I said, shaking my head.
“But it’s your apartment.”
“Figured it was our apartment.”
“Yeah, well, important shit to discuss. But I got places to be. So, here, you take this,” he said, grabbing the box and putting it down on Alara’s lap. “And you two talk it over. Let me know what you decide.”
“Brio,” I called as he turned to walk away.
But he was already ducking into the elevator.
Alara looked over at me, brows raised.
“Maybe we say we are fostering,” I suggested. “That way, if we decide cats aren’t for us, it’s not gonna rip out Char’s heart.”
“That feels like a solid plan,” she agreed, pushing the edge of the box inward to get a look at the kitten. “Hi, buddy. I’m sorry you lost your mom. And had to go to the stinky shelter. But you’re about to be very loved on.”
“Come on,” I said, grabbing the handles of her chair. “Let’s go get him settled so I can go get supplies.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Pretty sure the cat will disagree with that,” I said.
“No, trust me. Brio will drop everything off outside the door. That’s his thing.”
“What’s that?” Charlotte asked, half-interested, when we made our way back in.
“Well, Uncle Brio dropped by and asked us for a favor,” I said as Alara set the box on the cushion beside Charlotte. “He needed someone to keep an eye on this little guy for a while.”
Alara pulled the tuck at the top of the box.
Not a second later, the kitten’s head popped up, wide yellow eyes scanning around before he let out a sad little meow that almost sounded like a question.