Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
After getting the orders from the other two, I left the men on the porch, since it was obvious they were wanting to talk without the virginal ears of a woman around, and started in on breakfast.
I was doing damn well, too, until the smell of the eggs started to make me nauseous.
Dropping the eggs on the counter, I dashed to the bathroom and puked up the cup of coffee I’d consumed, and then my dinner from the night before.
Brushing my teeth quickly, I ran back to the kitchen in time to flip the eggs.
“You almost burnt them,” Silas said from the kitchen table, scaring the absolute shit out of me.
I whirled with the spatula in my hand, making bacon grease splatter the table where he was sitting. “W-what?” I stammered.
“You almost let them burn,” he repeated.
“Oh, well yeah, I didn’t mean to,” I said with wide eyes.
He turned his head, surveying me from head to toes, lingering on my belly that he couldn’t possibly see. Somehow, though, I knew he knew. He’d spent less than two minutes in my presence, and he knew.
“You tell him yet?” He asked softly.
My eyes went to the door in a panic. “No.” I shook my head frantically.
He nodded once, but his serious eyes never left me. “Don’t fuck him over.”
It wasn’t a statement, either. I knew that if I ever did Loki wrong, Silas wouldn’t let me forget what I’d done.
“I won’t. I never will. I love him,” I said simply.
His serious eyes held mine, pale blue on pale blue, and he nodded, “He won’t be mad.”
I smiled slightly. “I know. I just...he has a lot on his plate right now, and I don’t want to add to that. I want him to know, don’t get me wrong, but I want him to focus on fixing this problem, not freaking out about me. I’d planned on telling him as soon as I saw him again, but then he told me about the multiple attempts on his life and, well, I just couldn’t add to his burden right now.”
He nodded. “He’s going to figure it out sooner rather than later. Don’t wait too long, darlin’.”
My shoulders slumped. “I don’t know how to tell him, to be honest.”
He leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “How far along are you?”
I blinked. “Uh, twenty three weeks.”
He blinked.
Then blinked again.
“How the fuck are you hiding that from him?” He asked, flabbergasted.
I giggled. “I’ve always had a pouch. It’s just...harder now. Not quite so flabby. Then I wear loose shirts. My jeans don’t snap anymore.”
“Uh, oh. I looked at your pants to see what size you were. I didn’t realize they didn’t fit.” Loki smiled at me as he came inside with a bag.
He offered it to me, and I took it worriedly.
Did he hear what I’d said?
My worried eyes found Silas’, who shook his head, indicating that no, he didn’t hear us. Which allowed me to relax.
I’d tell him the minute we got back.
***
“Are you hot?” I asked Loki as we started our seventh hour of driving.
He looked at me oddly. “No. I can officially say you’re the first girl to tell me that she’s hot, and have the air conditioner on.”
I snorted. “I have to pee. Can we stop at the next exit?”
His head fell back onto the headrest. “We just stopped less than an hour ago.”
“Yeah, well tell that to my bladder,” I snapped.
“Maybe your pants are too tight,” he tried.
I giggled and then pulled my shirt up to show him my unbuttoned pants. “No chance of that.”
His eyes went to my unbuttoned pants.
He gave me a bemused look. “I’m sorry. I thought that they were universal sizes. I wasn’t aware skinny meant anything other than the style.”
“It’s okay. Just remember, for future reference, that I don’t shop in the teen section,” I said dryly.
“Well,” he said as his eyes followed the movement of a semi-truck in front of us. “That was all Cleo’s fault. I just told him what size to get.”
I shrugged. “I’ll get a pair when we get to...wherever we’re going. I really do need to pee, though. We’ve passed like, eight exits, and all of them have had gas stations. What’s the deal?”
“This guy in front of us...oh, fuck,” he said as he slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road.
My head whipped around and I watched in horror as the semi-truck that had been weaving in the lane suddenly whipped across all three lanes of traffic, through the light pole, across the center median, and into oncoming traffic.
The scene played out as if in slow motion.
I watched in a daze as the truck tore through the concrete median as it was tissue paper.
Then he hit a caravan and two trucks, before continuing off the shoulder and disappearing down the hill.
Then the chaos started.
Debris started flying like confetti paper, cars hit wrecked cars. Some went off the road. Some hit the concrete barrier. All the while I sat on my seat in a panic.
Loki had no such problem, though.
He, and the four motorcycles with us, all pulled off the road in a matter of seconds.
Loki wasted no time in ripping his center console open, withdrawing a box of purple gloves, and donning them.
He followed that up by reaching into the backseat and grabbing what looked to be a large duffel bag and bailing out of his truck.
He sprinted across the interstate, dodging cars going seventy miles an hour and over, and sidestepped through the ruined barrier.
My phone was in my hand, and 911 was on the line before I was even aware that I’d called.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The calm voice said.
“There’s like a 90 car pile-up on I-10. Uhh, I can’t tell you a mile marker though. Oh, my God. It’s bad,” I chattered frantically into the phone.
“That’s okay, dear. We know where you are. We’ve already had five other calls. We have units in-route,” she said calmly.
I was anything but calm, though. In fact, I was on the opposite end of the spectrum.