Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Jeff had Henny cuddled to his chest. “Great day, sis. Eric. See you two in the morning.”
FYI: Eric had insisted on yet another thing. Jeff spending the night Christmas Eve so we could all wake up and start the day together, as well as him staying that night, so he didn’t feel he had to leave, and he didn’t have to be alone at all on Christmas Day.
That afternoon, we’d all hit up Mace and Stella’s for an open house Christmas buffet that Stella, Cap and Raye had put together, and the gang was all there.
So all day, our Christmas was about family.
Thought I was crazy for falling in love with this guy in about a week?
As you could see, you were wrong.
“You can leave Henny,” I told him.
“Henny’s coming with me,” Jeff replied.
I opened my mouth, but my brother was out the door with our cat.
I glowered at the door.
“Babe,” Eric called.
I shifted my attention to him and stopped glowering.
“Thanks for not giving me my Christmas present of porn comics in front of my brother,” I said.
He started chuckling.
And…yeah.
Eric had run across my stash of porn. He’d thought it was hilarious, but clearly hadn’t thought it was a turn off, considering that day, he’d augmented it.
In front of Jeff, he’d given me a Disney Villain Maleficent heart-shaped onyx pendant with a vine of diamond thorns.
It was sheer perfection.
So much so, I was never taking it off.
“Thanks for waking me up with a phenomenal Christmas blowjob,” Eric replied.
I grinned at him.
That had been present number one.
The biggie had been a kickass, decorative firepit for his yard.
He’d loved it.
Henny, by the way, did not get thousands of cat toys for Christmas, but he was allowed to scatter the spent wrapping, bat the bows and squeeze into the boxes to his heart’s content.
“It’s not Christmas anymore,” he told me something I knew.
“Okay,” I replied, not sure how I felt about how his expression had changed.
“You’ll want to know,” he murmured. “But I hope you’ll get why I delayed it until after the big day.”
“Know what?” I asked.
He blew out a breath.
Then without a word, he righted the recliner, put us on our feet, took my hand, led me to the door and out went the lights.
He then guided me to the bedroom, turning off more lights along the way.
Once he got us there, he gently pressed me to sitting on the side of his bed. Only then did he open the drawer on his nightstand.
I knew this was no Boxing Day present when he pulled out a plastic bag.
“Getting on their radar, especially how they did, the cops cleared out Homer’s camp,” he said.
My throat closed.
I’d been to the camp twice since the first visit after his abduction, and Homer had not come out of his tent either time.
Due to that, I’d been giving Homer space.
But I had to admit, things had gotten hectic, what with Christmas and all, and the last couple of weeks, I hadn’t checked in.
“They were all moved, to shelters or other accommodations, or they scattered,” Eric told me.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Homer has disappeared.”
My heart stuttered to a stop.
“Oh my God,” I whimpered.
“We’ve looked for him, and we can’t find him. We’ll keep looking, honey. But in the meantime, a woman named Connie gave this to a shelter worker saying it had to get to me, so I could give to you,” Eric concluded.
He then handed me the bag.
Uncertain, I took it.
There was no weight to it. It just seemed to be an empty bag.
“There’s something in it,” Eric said.
I looked up to him, before I opened the bag and peered in.
A photo was in there.
Even more uncertainly, I reached in and took it out.
This time, my throat convulsed when I saw it was a picture of a much younger Homer standing behind a beautiful woman, his arms around her, his hands on her very pregnant belly.
They were both smiling huge.
“Sweetheart,” Eric called gently.
I looked up at him again.
He was wavy through the tears in my eyes.
“We’ve also looked into him.”
I knew I didn’t want to know, but I nodded anyway.
“She died of postpartum preeclampsia.”
I swallowed a sob.
Oh, Homer.
“The baby lived,” Eric went on. “Then she got leukemia and passed when she was four.”
I made a pained noise.
Oh, Homer.
I couldn’t hold my head up anymore, so I let it drop.
Eric curled a hand around the back of my neck and put his lips to my hair.
“Let’s get this done for you,” he muttered into my hair. “Look at the back, honey.”
To get it over with, I flipped the picture. I had to blink several times to clear my eyes, but I read:
This is home, Jessie.
I’m glad you found yours.
Hold on to it.
As long as you can.
I couldn’t swallow that sob, my whole body bucked with the power of it.