Page 41 of Thunder with a Chance of Lovestruck

He flashed one of his famous reassuring smiles. The kind that left his picture splashed all over newspapers as women fawned over him. “Rhys. Have you noticed he’s been sticking to you like glue?”

Rhys was the one Hunter out of the new protection detail who had been nice to me. He’d also been close to me any time I left the house for months now, using his body to block the media and spectators from getting to me. He didn’t say much, but always seemed to have my well-being at the forefront of his mind. “I think he’s worried I’ll do something stupid—like Nile would.”

Goodfellow laughed in a way that no doubt made women’s clothes melt off. “I think there is more to the story than that, but if that makes you comfortable having him around, we’ll go with that. For now.”

“Okay,” I said, thoroughly confused.

Goodfellow stayed close to me. “Anyway, Rhys insisted on riding with us today. Heshouldbe here by now. Odd that he’s not.”

I glanced to the side to find Drest there, watching as Goodfellow kept his arm around my waist and led me toward the table he sat at while court was in session.

Was Drest taking Rhys’s place today? Was he going to be part of my guard detail?

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. More than that, I disliked thinking about Drest so much. He’d turned his back on me and used me for a quick slap and tickle in the basement. He didn’t matter in my life, and I needed to remember as much.

“Ms. Frankenstein,” said Goodfellow, his voice like silk, causing the fine hairs on my arms to raise, dragging my attention from Drest.

“Rachael,” I managed. “Please. Call me Rachael, Mr. Goodfellow.”

He walked me around the table to the chair he normally sat in. “If you’ll call me Robin.”

A small laugh came from me. “Your parents had a sense of humor.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“The faerie or hobgoblin, depending on what text you’re reading, had the same name. The one from Oberon. You know, Puck?”

The rather ironic, impish smile that slid over his face wasn’t lost on me. “You’re familiar with Fae lore?”

“I’m a Frankenstein,” I reminded. “Lore kind of comes with the territory.”

I’d seen Drest and Goodfellow in heated debates outside of the courtroom before and got the impression the attorney knew far more about the truth of things than he ever let on.

He laughed softly. “I suppose it would. Have a seat, Rachael, and a glass of water. I need to speak with someone and check on Rhys before we leave.” He motioned to the pitcher of water and the glasses near it.

I offered a small nod. “Okay.”

The idea of leaving the courtroom on my own to face the reporters, protesters, and, weirdly enough, the groupies who wanted to bang my uncle (gross) held little appeal to me.

Goodfellow glanced out into the galley and lifted a hand, catching the attention of a man there who was waiting near the door as everyone else filed out. “A word.”

The man pointed to the side exit, and Goodfellow went in that direction. The courtroom cleared out fully, including Drest and the men he’d come with. A little part of me had been holding out hope that Drest would still be there, wanting to talk to me. Wanting to make amends.

He’s not the man you think he is. He’s a Hunter. Never forget that, I reminded myself.

As I turned slightly, I realized my uncle was still there, cuffed but minus any deputies. In fact, there wasn’t anyone else in the courtroom except us.

That shouldn’t be.

Something was wrong.

Nile was around the defendant’s table rather than behind it, standing only a few feet from me. Close enough to touch.

I took a small step backward.

His expression was downright murderous, causing fear to take root in me. Every alarm bell I had was going off simultaneously, screaming at me to run and put distance between my uncle and myself. That this wasn’t a time for bravado. It was a time to flee and live to fight another day. For some stupid reason, my feet remained planted in place.

“H-how?” I asked, referring to the fact that we were alone, and he wasn’t being escorted back to jail.

---