Page 112 of Secret Gifts
I calm down slightly. I’m not used to seeing my brother so shaken. He’s always the steel. Now he seems like glass... like me.
“Then you tell her you’re scared. You tell her how it kills you to see her walking away when you worry about never seeing her again. Hell, you even ask her to stay. You don’t go find the first thing in a skirt and use her to break Melania into pieces.”
He slumps down against a wall, and I join him while looping my arm through his.
“I know. It’s just… this is still new. She’s, well... she’s perfect. I just… it’s hard to tell her the truth, knowing tomorrow we’ll be even closer. This damn bond is so strong, and I don’t know how to deal with all of this.” He flings his hands around as though he's motioning to the air around him.
I shrug, my head falling to rest on his shoulder as his moves to rest atop my hair.
“Then you let her help you deal.”
I feel his smile, and then he leans up to ruffle my sexy hair still assembled - though I ditched the dress the second Jase and I got back to Seminole. Simone will kick my ass when she sees me in my tank and jeans.
“You’re such a drama queen,” he says in the way he does when he’s trying to downplay his emotions.
“You’re such a dick,” I playfully add while standing.
He hugs me briefly before walking back inside, and I smirk as I stick my tongue out at his back the way I always did after winning an argument as children.
“I saw that,” he laughs out while keeping his back turned.
“That was the point,” I say with a childishly endearing grin, and he shakes his head before disappearing into the building.
“Now it’s my turn to fight some battles,” I murmur to myself while jogging toward the archive building.
The dusty room promises to hold more spiders than answers, and the lights struggle to turn on as they flicker to a steady glow. The stale pages of ancient writings show their yellowing aged tales, and I sigh while tying my hair up in a ponytail.
This is going to suck.
I grab a ladder to start sifting through the mess of books, papers, scrolls, and so much more. I have no idea where to even start looking for this damn thing, considering Mr. Secretive Hybrid didn’t give me anything more than a title.
Would it have been so much to ask for a damn reference section to try?
I decide to start with a less than promising stack, and I pull up a cobwebbed chair that is loaded with aged cracks and centuries old dust.
I plop down, and the rusting heap sounds like metal scraping metal as I inch closer to the table. The first few documents hold no secrets, and I grumble under my breath.
Hours drag by, and I’m starting to hear an old clock actually ticking in my head as though there’s a hasty timeline. Suddenly, the metal cries out as a folding scream erupts from the chair I’m in, and I squeal as it collapses to the ground. My head flops back, my side slaps the metal pole of the broken chair, and I scream out my anger in a cathartic need for release.
“Stupid fucking chair,” I bark, and then I hear an echo of laughter for a brief second before it fades from the room, followed by the slight click of the door shutting.
I jump up, my body trembling instantly, but no one is here. Then I smell the melted chocolate and dark cherry left behind, and I roll my eyes.
Stupid fucking stalker.
“You could at least tell me where the hell to look,” I scream to the man who has probably already disappeared from the compound.
I shake my head, and then I look back to see a file on the table. I didn’t put it there, so he had to. He apparently watched me tirelessly combing through the mountains of useless information and coming up empty handed. Either he got bored or felt sorry for me.
I gasp as I read the lines of my saving grace, and I tuck the file under my arm while rushing out of the eerie room.
Fucking finally.
As soon as I enter the office floor, Simone is shamelessly enveloped in a tangling embrace with a husky guy I never saw her speak to at the club. His hands grab her ass through the tiny shorts she has on, and then he walks away as her eyes find mine.
“Hey, bitch,” Simone rolls out while casually taking her walk of shame toward me to loop her arm through mine. “What’s up with the ditching act? Some guy told me you got a ride back.”
“Jase showed up,” I say with a grin too big for my face, and it’s pointless to try and tame the full-flashing smile that won’t budge.
