Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Little guy is tired, huh?” he said.
Zippy yawned and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Much like you.” He shut the door and let out a sigh of relief.
Thank fuck.
Then he climbed into the truck and immediately called Betsy.
“Ink? Did you find her?”
He hated hearing the fear and worry in her voice. “I did.”
“She’s all right?”
“Yeah. She twisted her ankle, but otherwise she’s fine. And she’s got a visitor she’s bringing with her.”
“A visitor? What kind?”
“The feline kind,” he replied. “She found a kitten.”
“Oh. Oh! Okay, I’ll warn Bandit and see what I can set up. Ink? She’s really all right?”
He hated the way her voice wobbled.
“She is, baby. I promise. I’m bringing her home. She’s worried about you.”
“She is?”
“Yep. Can you call the twins while I call off everyone else?”
“Of course. I’ll do that. Oh, Ink. Thank God or Santa, I’m not sure which.” She ended the call before he could ask her what the heck that meant.
Perhaps he was better off not knowing.
Betsy was waiting anxiously in the living room as Ink carried Zippy inside. She looked exhausted and she had a small gray kitten clasped against her chest, sleeping.
Betsy had done the best she could with what she had on hand to set up some things for the kitten. And she’d put Bandit in Baron’s room in the meantime. Baron wouldn’t mind, Bandit usually slept with him or Royal when they were home.
“Oh, Zippy! Are you all right?” she asked, hovering as Ink set Zippy down on the sofa and started to draw off the little girl’s jacket. “I was so worried about you. I’ve made you hot cocoa. And grilled cheese.”
“Good thinking, Brown eyes,” Ink praised while Zippy remained quiet.
Why wasn’t she talking? Was she upset?
“Do you want a hot cocoa?” Betsy asked.
Zippy shook her head as Ink drew off her shoes to look at her foot.
“Oh. Okay. What about ice for her foot?” she asked Ink.
“I don’t think it looks too bad. Can you move it, Zippy?” Ink asked.
Zippy wriggled it, wincing. “It’s not too bad.”
“Maybe an ice pack, Brown eyes,” Ink told her. “And I’ll take one of those hot cocoas.”
“A-all right. I’ll get that. Yep, I’m onto it.” She rushed into the kitchen and poured a hot cocoa, putting mounds of whipped cream on top.
Then she grabbed one of her ice packs from the freezer. They had images of elephants on them. She moved carefully back into the living area, not wanting to spill the hot cocoa.
“Why don’t you want a hot cocoa, Zippy?” Ink asked quietly. “Do you not like them?”
Betsy paused, waiting to hear Zippy’s reply.
“Of course I do! I love Betsy’s hot cocoas. She makes the best.”
She did? It was nice that Zippy thought that.
“Then why don’t you want one, kid?” Ink asked quietly.
“Because I don’t deserve it.”
Betsy nearly gasped at the sadness in Zippy’s voice. Why would she think that?
“Why is that?” Ink asked.
“I brought all this trouble to you guys,” Zippy said.
“What trouble?” Betsy asked.
They both looked up at her. Oops. She winced, sending Ink an apologetic glance. She hadn’t meant to interrupt them.
Hopefully, Zippy didn’t clam up.
“Leon.”
“Oh, honey,” Betsy said. “That’s not your fault. You didn’t ask Leon to be such a . . . such a . . .”
“Poop face?” Zippy supplied.
Betsy had to hide a smile. “Something like that.”
Ink stood and took the hot cocoa from her, setting it down on the coffee table.
Betsy kneeled by Zippy and placed the ice pack on her ankle. “Is that better?”
Zippy sniffled. “You shouldn’t be nice to me, Betsy.”
“Why not?” Betsy asked, shocked.
“I told you. It’s my fault you’re in danger. Leon is after me, but if he comes here for me, he’ll hurt you too. I don’t want you to get hurt, Betsy. But especially not ‘cause of me.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Betsy said. “If Leon comes here and I get hurt that is in no way your fault.”
“Yeah, it is! He’ll come ‘cause I threatened to slice him with the knife. But he deserved it.”
“What did he do, Zippy?” Ink asked quietly.
“He was hurtin’ Amber,” she whispered. “He hurt her lots.”
Betsy sucked in a breath. “And you tried to protect her?”
“She always tried to protect me. She’d send me away when he got all mad. He didn’t touch me, though. ‘Cause he didn’t want the school or Liddy to find out.”
Liddy was her caseworker.
“You never told anyone what he was doing to Amber?” Ink asked.
Zippy shrugged. “People don’t always believe me. They might say I was making something up and call Leon. Then he’d hurt her more.”
Oh, God.
That . . . that asshole! Yeah, she’d thought it and she meant it! Leon was an asshole. How dare he threaten a little girl like that.
“But I’d had enough this night, so I grabbed a big knife and swung it around, threatening to hurt him. He just laughed until I stabbed it at him and got his arm.”