Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 154037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“Just checkin’.”
Haddie giggled. “You’re always checking on everything, and I already promised that I would tell you if anyone was mean to me.”
“That’s my girl.”
She beamed.
Otto roughed a hand through his hair, wondering how to broach it. “Speaking of friends…I met a new friend who has a little sister about the same age as you.”
Her brows rose. “Really?”
“Yeah…they’re staying with us for a bit.”
Haddie’s brows that had been high in exhalation knitted in worry. She knew where he lived only because he’d had to take her there once when their mom had disappeared for three days. He’d had half a mind to keep her, but in the end, he’d decided it was better for her here.
Where she had a real house.
He made sure she had a phone so she could reach him at any time, though, and she knew to use it if she needed him.
“She doesn’t have a house?” she whispered.
Air rushed from his nose. “Not a good one, Haddie, and she’s kind of sad and scared, so I thought it might be cool if she had a friend.”
“Like me?” She perked right back up.
“Yeah. She’s shy, though, so it might take her a bit to warm up.”
Hell, he didn’t even know how to facilitate it.
Haddie squealed as she tossed herself from her bed. “I have the perfect idea. I’ll write her so she can get to know me, and then we’ll totally hang out, and if she has a phone then we can text.”
She marched for her little desk against the wall and dug through the bottom drawer. She pulled out a pink notebook with a buckle, and she immediately went to work, her head down for at least five minutes before she passed it to him. “Here. But you can’t look at it. Girls only.”
Otto’s chuckle was low. “Fine. Fine.” Then he blew out a sigh. “All right. I’d better go. Need to talk to Mom really quick before I head out. Give me a minute with her, yeah?”
Her nod was slight and tinged in disappointment. “Okay.”
He tipped up her chin. “I’ll take you to get ice cream soon. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds nice.”
He dropped a kiss to her forehead before he headed back out and into the kitchen where his mother was smacking dollops of mashed potatoes onto plates.
He leaned against the arch and said, “Hey.”
“I’m not in the mood for a lecture from you, Otto, so you can save it. Like you’re livin’ your life so much better than I’m livin’ mine.”
A splinter of pain jabbed at his spirit.
Sometimes he wondered why the hell she hated him so much. But the feeling was pretty much mutual.
He figured he’d cut to the chase. “Brought you money.”
Her eyes flicked to the cash that he pulled out of his pocket. “Good. Groceries are runnin’ low.”
He tucked the notepad under his arm as he crossed to her, his voice a low gruff of indignation as he leaned in closer to her and passed her the thick wad of cash and gritted, “Only reason I live that life is so I can take care of my sister. So I can put a roof over your heads. Make sure those groceries aren’t runnin’ low. I didn’t pick this life. You picked it for me.”
And he walked out without saying anything else.
SEVENTEEN
OTTO
My eyes sprang open to the shadows that played like ghosts in the room. Moonlight spilled in through the bank of windows on the east side of the house, the night rippling with a calm that somehow felt forged.
Disoriented, I blinked, trying to discern what had ripped me from sleep.
A cold dread slipped through my senses when I heard it again.
A low, mournful cry. The same kind of cry that used to pull me from sleep all those years ago. A devastating whimper that billowed through me like a plea.
A hook straight in my soul.
Tossing off the blanket, I slowly rose from the couch and onto my feet. My heart thundered, a battering so loud I could almost hear the reverberation of it against the walls.
Or maybe…maybe it was just her fear.
This thing that came alive in the room. A haunting that proclaimed.
Throat closing in, I edged across the floor and toward the steps that led up to my room.
Part of me shouted that I should ignore the call. Pretend I hadn’t heard. I’d learned the hard way that I shouldn’t intrude. I’d get wrapped up so fast I wouldn’t know what hit me.
But there was no chance I could disregard her pain. Especially when I heard another whimper echo through the door.
A dark energy roiled from within and bashed at the wood.
A thrashing of grief and a convulsing of horror.
Could barely swallow around the dread as I reached out a shaky hand and set it on the knob. I hesitated for a prolonged, uncertain beat, before I clicked open the door to the duskiness of my bedroom.