Page 34 of Knot a Tie
“I will go to her now,” Will mutters and disappears through the door.
“I guess someone had better ring Jones.”
“I’ll do it,” James says. “Hopefully he found her stuff and doesn’t have to go back for it. He’s already at National Tyres in Wimbledon.”
I nod and sit back down, leaning my head on the back of the couch, exhausted from this day already.
ChapterNineteen
William
Making my way upstairs to the bedroom that was assigned to Rayne, I pause at the top, seeing the door open. Slowly, I approach, clearing my throat so she knows I’m coming.
Stopping outside, I lean against the doorframe casually and see her lying on her stomach in the middle of the bed, a bunched-up pillow under her chin.
She looks despondent and tired.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask quietly. Maybe too quietly, as I don’t think she heard me.
“For this day to never have happened,” she replies a few moments later.
I click my fingers and the sharp noise makes her look up and across to me.
“Sorry, it seems like my powers of time travel are on the fritz.” I give her a small smile.
She giggles. It’s a cute sound, and it makes me warm inside.
“Gingerbread man is a funny guy.”
I tilt my head.
“Sorry, you smell like biscuits to me, and I love gingerbread.”
“Me too.”
Her smile warms even more, and she sits up. Finding common ground with her will go a long way to helping her trust in us. I’m surprised that James agreed to Spencer’s suggestion that I be the one to help her contact her parents. She will see that as a big gesture.
“Do you want to ring your parents?” I ask her, still casually leaning in the doorway.
She blinks a couple of times and then sighs. “And say what, exactly?”
I push off from the doorframe and regard her closely. “Have you spoken to them at all since you left the house earlier?”
She nods. “Yeah, Mick the prick said I could ring them. I said I was at my cousin’s and that I'd check in later.”
“What did you tell your cousin?”
“I texted her and acted like a big, fat slapper,” she says with a groan, stuffing her face into the pillow.
I frown. “Pardon?”
“Ugh! I said I was going to be delayed because I’d met a hot alpha at the services. Christ knows what she thinks of me. I didn’t have my phone to see her reply.”
I stifle my snicker. I’m fairly certain that she is not a slapper, even though I don’t know her. She hasn’t thrown herself at any of us and we are a reasonably attractive pack as far as that goes. Holding my hand out for her to take, I say, “Come, I’ll show you the landline.”
“Jesus,” she mutters, but climbs off the bed anyway. “Landline? What is this, the nineties?”
“Like you’d know,” I chide her. “You are what? Twenty-two, three?”
