Until Ashlyn
Page 40
“I need you now,” I whine, tossing my arms over my head in defeat.
“Poor baby.” His eyes slide over me, and for a brief second, I think he’s going to change his mind, but instead, he shakes his head and adjusts himself yet again. “I’ll be home by five.” He leans over, kissing me once more before grumbling something under his breath as he leaves, shaking his head.
Getting up from the couch, I pick up my cell phone and take it with me, wanting a glass of water. Moving through one of the living rooms and down the long back hall toward the kitchen, I notice the door that leads out to the garage is open and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise on end. Dillon is always overly careful about locking up; he’s never left any of the doors open or unlocked.
Hearing something, my heart begins to race and my breath freezes in my lungs as panic starts to set in. Leaning back against the wall, I listen carefully, swearing I hear the sound of someone breathing. “Dillon?” I call, feeling my heart in my throat when I get no response. Lifting my cell that is clutched in my hand, I press 9-1-1 then move toward the door with my thumb on the call button. “Dillon,” I repeat, then jump and scream when the door is shoved open.
“Dammit, Leo!” I cry, holding my hand over my heart that feels like it’s about ready to explode out of my chest. “You scared the crap out of me,” I chide, scooping up my cat before he can get away from me. Hissing, he swipes at my chin, but then gives up on being mad and starts to purr when I flip him to his back and rub his tummy. Shutting the door to the garage, I lock it and head for the kitchen with Leo purring loudly in my arms.
Since we’ve been staying here, he’s been laying low. I don’t think he knows what to do with so much room to roam, and most days I find him hiding in the top of the towel closet in the hallway upstairs. “Have you been locked in the garage all day?” I ask, kissing his head before dropping him to the top of the island in the middle of the kitchen.
Stretching out, he looks around then looks at me before falling to his bottom. “You didn’t even eat breakfast,” I say, picking up his still full bowl of food and setting it on the counter near him. Looking at the bowl, he bends to sniff it then looks back at me and blinks. “Is it not to your liking, King Leo?” I smile, rubbing the top of his head. Seeing he’s not going to eat it, I dump the contents down the disposal and rinse the dish before grabbing him a new container of food. As soon as the dish is on the counter near him, he sniffs it again. Obviously finding it to his liking, he shoves his face in the bowl and begins to eat.
Taking a seat on one of the stools, I watch him lick the bowl clean, and then watch as he wanders around the top of the island for a moment before hopping across to another counter and up to the top of the fridge. “Are you going to hide up there for the rest of the day?” I ask him as he walks in a circle before lying down. “I guess that is a yes,” I mutter, taking a sip of water, and then jump as my cell phone rings. Seeing it’s my cousin June, I pick it up and put it to my ear, smiling. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, are you home?” she asks as the sound of the doorbell rings through the quiet house.
“Yes.” I snort, sliding off the stool. “But I think you’re supposed to call to make sure I’m home before showing up. Not call as you ring the bell.” I laugh, heading for the front door.
“I’m not there yet. I just left work. I should be there in five.”
“Oh, someone’s at the door. I thought it was you,” I say, and hear the sound of a horn through the phone then listen as she shouts.
“Put your cell phone down before you kill someone, asshole!”
Shaking my head, I mutter, “One day, someone is going to follow you home.”
“Please, if someone ever followed me, they would have to deal with Evan. You and I both know they would run for the hills the second they saw him.
“True.” I grin at my feet as I walk across the marble entryway toward the door, knowing she’s right. Evan would lose his mind if someone even looked at her in a way he didn’t like, especially now that she’s pregnant.
“But seriously, is checking Facebook so damn important that you can’t wait until you get home?” she grumbles.
“I wouldn’t know. After MySpace went up in smoke, I gave up on social media.” I smile, hearing her laugh. “Hold on a sec. Let me see who’s here.” I pull my cell from my ear and lean up on my tiptoes to look through the peephole. “Fuck me.” I close my eyes when I see none other than the she-bitch-from-hell standing on the front porch.
“Who’s there?” June asks, and I grit my teeth.
“Take a wild guess.”
“Please tell me that bitch is not at your house.”
“I won’t tell you then.” I sigh, wondering if I should just ignore her and pray that she goes away.
“Don’t answer it. I’ll be there in less than two.”
“I can hear you in there,” Isla calls, and I lean my head back.
“God, even her voice is annoying,” June gripes, and I groan as Isla pounds on the door.
“I just want to talk,” she yells, and my hand balls into a fist at my side.
“Do you want me to call Dillon?” June questions softly, and I think about it for a second, but the idea of him dealing with her doesn’t sit well with me… or the ugly green monster that lives in my head.
“Poor baby.” His eyes slide over me, and for a brief second, I think he’s going to change his mind, but instead, he shakes his head and adjusts himself yet again. “I’ll be home by five.” He leans over, kissing me once more before grumbling something under his breath as he leaves, shaking his head.
Getting up from the couch, I pick up my cell phone and take it with me, wanting a glass of water. Moving through one of the living rooms and down the long back hall toward the kitchen, I notice the door that leads out to the garage is open and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise on end. Dillon is always overly careful about locking up; he’s never left any of the doors open or unlocked.
Hearing something, my heart begins to race and my breath freezes in my lungs as panic starts to set in. Leaning back against the wall, I listen carefully, swearing I hear the sound of someone breathing. “Dillon?” I call, feeling my heart in my throat when I get no response. Lifting my cell that is clutched in my hand, I press 9-1-1 then move toward the door with my thumb on the call button. “Dillon,” I repeat, then jump and scream when the door is shoved open.
“Dammit, Leo!” I cry, holding my hand over my heart that feels like it’s about ready to explode out of my chest. “You scared the crap out of me,” I chide, scooping up my cat before he can get away from me. Hissing, he swipes at my chin, but then gives up on being mad and starts to purr when I flip him to his back and rub his tummy. Shutting the door to the garage, I lock it and head for the kitchen with Leo purring loudly in my arms.
Since we’ve been staying here, he’s been laying low. I don’t think he knows what to do with so much room to roam, and most days I find him hiding in the top of the towel closet in the hallway upstairs. “Have you been locked in the garage all day?” I ask, kissing his head before dropping him to the top of the island in the middle of the kitchen.
Stretching out, he looks around then looks at me before falling to his bottom. “You didn’t even eat breakfast,” I say, picking up his still full bowl of food and setting it on the counter near him. Looking at the bowl, he bends to sniff it then looks back at me and blinks. “Is it not to your liking, King Leo?” I smile, rubbing the top of his head. Seeing he’s not going to eat it, I dump the contents down the disposal and rinse the dish before grabbing him a new container of food. As soon as the dish is on the counter near him, he sniffs it again. Obviously finding it to his liking, he shoves his face in the bowl and begins to eat.
Taking a seat on one of the stools, I watch him lick the bowl clean, and then watch as he wanders around the top of the island for a moment before hopping across to another counter and up to the top of the fridge. “Are you going to hide up there for the rest of the day?” I ask him as he walks in a circle before lying down. “I guess that is a yes,” I mutter, taking a sip of water, and then jump as my cell phone rings. Seeing it’s my cousin June, I pick it up and put it to my ear, smiling. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, are you home?” she asks as the sound of the doorbell rings through the quiet house.
“Yes.” I snort, sliding off the stool. “But I think you’re supposed to call to make sure I’m home before showing up. Not call as you ring the bell.” I laugh, heading for the front door.
“I’m not there yet. I just left work. I should be there in five.”
“Oh, someone’s at the door. I thought it was you,” I say, and hear the sound of a horn through the phone then listen as she shouts.
“Put your cell phone down before you kill someone, asshole!”
Shaking my head, I mutter, “One day, someone is going to follow you home.”
“Please, if someone ever followed me, they would have to deal with Evan. You and I both know they would run for the hills the second they saw him.
“True.” I grin at my feet as I walk across the marble entryway toward the door, knowing she’s right. Evan would lose his mind if someone even looked at her in a way he didn’t like, especially now that she’s pregnant.
“But seriously, is checking Facebook so damn important that you can’t wait until you get home?” she grumbles.
“I wouldn’t know. After MySpace went up in smoke, I gave up on social media.” I smile, hearing her laugh. “Hold on a sec. Let me see who’s here.” I pull my cell from my ear and lean up on my tiptoes to look through the peephole. “Fuck me.” I close my eyes when I see none other than the she-bitch-from-hell standing on the front porch.
“Who’s there?” June asks, and I grit my teeth.
“Take a wild guess.”
“Please tell me that bitch is not at your house.”
“I won’t tell you then.” I sigh, wondering if I should just ignore her and pray that she goes away.
“Don’t answer it. I’ll be there in less than two.”
“I can hear you in there,” Isla calls, and I lean my head back.
“God, even her voice is annoying,” June gripes, and I groan as Isla pounds on the door.
“I just want to talk,” she yells, and my hand balls into a fist at my side.
“Do you want me to call Dillon?” June questions softly, and I think about it for a second, but the idea of him dealing with her doesn’t sit well with me… or the ugly green monster that lives in my head.
