Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
“Oh good, scrambled eggs. I’m starving.”
The voice has me freezing, wondering if I’m imagining things. It feels more real—sharper than my memories of my past.
Whirling around, I locate the person belonging to the nonchalant voice. Like a vision come to life, my daughter prances into the dining room like nothing is amiss.
It takes me a second for reality to set in.
She’s alive.
My daughter is alive and apparently well.
A squeal of ire rips from Kota when she snatches the muffin off his plate. Reagan is here—standing in our house—taunting her baby brother like nothing ever happened. Like our entire world wasn’t just turned upside down and shaking while we all came tumbling out.
I’m out of my chair the next second and make it to her in an inhuman flash. I grab her shoulders and jerk her to me, burying my nose in her pine-scented hair.
This is real.
She’s here.
“Mom?” Raegan asks, voice soft and unsure. “Are you okay?”
This snaps me out of my relief. I dig my thumbs in and push her away until she’s at arm’s length. Her hair is messy and tangled from the wind. She also smells like she hasn’t had a chance to bathe.
“Where the hell have you been?” I demand, my words shrill and bordering on a shriek. “Goddamn you, child!”
Her lip curls up, and she affixes me with one of her usual defiant glares. “Good morning to you too, Mother.”
The sass in this girl.
My God.
It takes everything in me not to kill her.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve put this family through?” I shake her shoulders to get her attention. “Your brothers and father are out there right now looking for your dead body!”
Raegan snorts out a laugh and then winces when she meets my furious stare. “S-sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough!” I yell, causing the two youngest children to start crying. “I want to know where you were!”
She tries to jerk out of my hold, but I’m too upset to let her go. I thought I lost my baby. I thought she was gone. Hurt, raped, murdered. I can’t fathom letting her out of my sight, not even for a second.
“Mom,” Raegan whines. “It’s fine.”
So help me, I want to slap this child. I want to slap her into next week so she can physically feel the pain her family has felt while she was off doing whatever it was she was doing.
“It’s not fine, Rae,” I shout, ignoring the wails of Dawson. “You could have died!”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been on the roof,” she grumbles. “Don’t you think you’re being slightly overdramatic?”
The roof?
“You were on the roof of this house the whole time?” I close my eyes, breathing heavily through my nose to calm my fury. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“I go up there all the time.” She attempts to shrug her shoulders, but my vise-like grip prevents her from moving. “I just never fell asleep before.”
This unruly girl fell asleep on my roof.
Unbelievable.
“Go to your room,” I snap, body vibrating with anger. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
Her lips thin into a line, and her eyes flicker with the desire to argue, but whatever she sees reflected back has her backing down.
Good, because I’m going to do something regrettable if she doesn’t leave right now.
I release her and give a sharp shake of my head. “Destiny, keep an eye on the littles. I need to let your father know Raegan’s back.”
And grounded for life.
“We have to talk to her,” Reed says, stroking his fingers through my hair. “You can’t leave her in her bedroom forever.”
“Maybe we should,” I huff. “It’s safer that way.”
He doesn’t have to remind me I was brutalized in my own bed. I’m just being stubborn, and we both know it. Thankfully, he doesn’t call me out and continues to pet me like his favorite kitten.
“She reminds me a lot of you,” Reed says softly, dodging my swat. “I’m being serious.”
“I was much better behaved.”
“True,” he admits, “but you loved the outdoors. You loved getting dirty and playing with your brother. Your treehouse was your favorite place to be.”
“I never got on the roof.”
“Had you been born and raised in the wilderness, you may not be able to say that.”
Ignoring that statement, I watch Dawson as he crawls over to where Declan and Kota are trying to build a block tower. Kota sharply instructs Declan to keep the baby away. That it’s his job. Our other boys are well-behaved, but something tells me Kota will be a troublemaker one day.
“I can talk to her,” Reed offers, playfully tugging my hair, “but. . .”
I sigh heavily and fill in the rest of his statement. “But she has you wrapped around her finger. No, it needs to be me.”
He stays quiet, watching the kids play as I stew in my thoughts. Finally, when I’ve pouted long enough, I sit up and frown at him.