Whispers of the Raven Read Online Tiana Laveen

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nikolai drew the window shades down, locked the storefront door, then turned over the ‘CLOSED’ sign. Charlie Wilson’s, ‘There Goes My Baby,’ played softly as he placed some of his merchandise that had been tinkered with by customers back into their rightful places. Shot glasses, funny cards and the like oftentimes were placed where the custom jewelry moon rings and small stuffed bears dwelled. Once that was settled to his liking, he reached for a broom to chase away some dust clustering in the corners near a display of sunglasses.

A tap sounded at the door. He glanced at his watch.

“I’m closed. Come back tomorrow!” he hollered, then began sweeping again.

Another tap was followed by, “Nikolai, It’s me. Porsche.”

He gripped the broomstick with both fists as he stared at the front door. What the hell is she doing here? He’d just spoken to her on the phone a couple of hours ago, told her to have a good night, and they even had plans to spend some time together that weekend. She’d mentioned nothing of stopping by. In fact, she’d told him she was heading to bed early.

“I’m coming.”

He placed the broom against the wall, made his way over, and lifted the shade. It was dark outside, but a streetlight shone down on part of her body, illuminating half of her face. She was wearing a cream scarf around her head and a matching cream coat. Her eyes were watery and pink, and she had no makeup on.

He unlocked the door, then swung it open. A cool burst of air entered, swimming past him as his gaze landed on hers. Without a word, he took her hand and escorted her inside, locking the door behind her and pulling the shade back down.

“I wasn’t expectin’ you.”

“I know. I’m sorry for popping over like this. It was a spur of the moment decision. I tried to go to sleep but couldn’t.”

“No need to apologize. It’s cool. You’re always welcome.” He yawned and massaged the back of his neck, wondering about the reason for this impromptu visit. She stood before him, her eyes swollen and raw, and the tip of her nose a pinkish hue as if she’d been fighting a cold, blowing far too hard into a tissue.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just close by and thought I’d drop in.”

He licked his lower lip and crossed his arms. “…Porsche.”

One of the saddest, most pitiful smiles creased her face and then, she hung her head. Tears fell from her blinking eyes, landing onto her black boots.

He stepped closer and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“You don’t have to hide your feelings from me, baby. What’s going on?”

“I didn’t know who else to turn to.” She sniffed, then shook her head as if her burden was far too awful to bear. “…I don’t know what to do.” She began to rock back on her heels and nervously rub her hands together. “It happened so fast! I’ve been a mess all day. I tried… I tried to pretend I was okay. I was doing good until a little while ago… I was holding up just fine, but I’m falling apart now. It’s too much.”

The tears flowed faster now.

He realized at that moment that Porsche detested being vulnerable. She kept trying to avert eye contact while struggling with what had to be the beginning stages of a nervous breakdown. A wrecking ball had entered her world, and she couldn’t stop the carnage. On the inside, he felt warm and loved… for Porsche had come to him in her time of need. That had to mean something. That was important.

“Here, have a seat.” He gently took her hand and led her over to an antique chair that was for sale. He helped her into it, then placed a blue and red checkered quilt over her lap. “You feel a little cold to the touch, like you’ve been outside for a while.”

“I was. I stood a few feet away from your door for a good long time before I knocked. I kept trying to talk myself into leaving you alone and going home. Obviously, I lost the argument with myself because here I am.” She rolled her eyes, as if disgusted with herself.

“I’ve got a pot of coffee going in the back. I think you could use a cup. Stay right here.”

She nodded, then looked away.

He went into his workshop and filled a sturdy paper cup with coffee. Adding three spoonfuls of creamer and two packets of sugar, he prepared it just how he’d seen her make her own coffee, only he didn’t have the fancy flavorings she enjoyed. This would simply have to do. When he returned to her, she was sitting with her legs tucked beneath her, her chin trembling, and her small nostrils flaring over and over as if she was trying to keep her heart from bursting out of her chest. He handed her the cup and stood across from her, leaning against the corner of an old stone hearth that hadn’t been lit in decades.



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