Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Delilah, though, she’s still alive.
And here I am, still thinking about the stiffness of her spine, the way her mouth was set in this grim line like she was trying not to break down in front of me.
I just had to run my mouth and upset her more, even if she flashed me her claws.
So I can’t help wondering if there’s something I should do for her, too.
‘Course, that might be because I’m parked across the town square from The Rookery, settled in my car for my patrol shift.
While everyone else in this God-fearing town is sound asleep, there’s lights on in the house up the hill—and in a single room in The Rookery.
I can make out a feminine silhouette, settled against the window seat, backlit by gold.
She must’ve been there for hours.
Barely moving, just staring into space.
I don’t think she’s noticed me.
Will she get any sleep tonight at all?
Fuck.
For about two seconds, I try to talk myself out of it.
Good thing I don’t listen very well. Because next thing I know, I’m stepping onto the sidewalk, locking my vehicle behind me.
Screw it.
As of now, the Redhaven PD does house calls.
I head up the walk and I don’t even make it to the door before I hear a window opening above me, and then a soft hiss.
“Lieutenant Graves?”
I stop, craning my head up to look at her.
She’s perched on the sill in a little babydoll tee and shorts, her hair tumbling over her shoulder.
“Evening, Miss Clarendon,” I call up.
“It’s almost morning,” she whispers. “What are you doing here?”
I shrug, tucking my hands in my pockets. “Thought I’d check up on you. You look like you’re having a bit of trouble, ma’am. Mind if I come up?”
Her expression darkens into a scowl. “I mind a lot, thank you. I’m not having more trouble, and unless you’re officially here to question me or you’ve got a warrant, no, you can’t come up. I don’t want to wake up Janelle.”
I try not to let my jaw set.
“She sleeps in the house out back with the chief, you know. They wouldn’t even hear you.” It’s damn hard not to smile at this girl when she gets her hackles up, and I’m glad for her attitude. If she’s using it as a shield, it’ll hold her strong till she’s past this crap. “Don’t worry, New York. We’re not so old-fashioned that she’d go talking behind your back for having a man in your room at midnight.”
Her blue eyes dagger me like icicles. “You’re right. You did the world a favor when you didn’t go for that career in comedy.”
I can’t help the way my lips twitch up. “Wow. I thought you New Yorkers spoke fluent sarcasm.”
“And I thought you townies only spoke hillbilly, but you actually pronounce the ends of your words. I’m shocked.”
“Nah. Hillfolk live a bit higher up in the woods. Not people.”
She blinks. “Hillfolk?”
“You’ll meet the Jacobins when they’re ready and not a minute sooner. They’re the kind of folks who can’t be found unless they want to be.” I rock on my heels, studying her face. “You sure you’re gonna be all right? You don’t have to worry. I’m just out here on patrol all night, and I tend to settle in around the town square. If anyone comes by this place, I’ll see it from there. Thought you should know.”
There it is.
That New York glower, coming back in full force. “I don’t need you to watch over me, Officer. You insisted I’m safe... aren’t I?”
She’s got me there.
“Just doing my job, lady. You happen to be where my job is.”
“Wow, the full cop chaperone experience. Haven’t seen that since high school. I feel so special!”
“You were the one who said you didn’t need me,” I growl. But there’s no point in riling her up, either, no matter how sweetly it makes her flush and her eyes glitter. I just nod firmly and lift a hand. “I won’t keep you up. You need me, I’m parked right across the way. Have a good night, New York.”
“Not likely, Officer Limpdick,” she mutters.
Snorting, I ignore that comically wrong insult to my manhood and start to turn away, but this odd hunch turns me back.
Right on time to see her New York salute again, her slim middle finger thrust to the night sky, jabbed in my direction.
Two one-gun salutes in one day?
This is going great.
Before the window slams shut, there’s nothing left but the lash of her hair before she vanishes from view.
There you have it.
It’s gonna be a long-ass night, the kind that leaves you red-eyed and questioning your own life the next morning.
At least New York’s gonna be fine, attitude and all.
And me?
I fight back a shit-eating grin and shake my head.
All the way back to my damn car.
3
Red Light (Delilah)
She’s coming.
I’m back at the blue house, the interior lit red, the girl rising up off the floor like she’s being lifted by strings, her hair unbound and streaming, her limbs hanging limply, her face hidden.