Page 8
Story: Wrapped in Silver
What am I going to do, sit home and shiver until I’m old and ragged?
Dad needs me.
I’m finally at the front door.
I could’ve sworn a cab stopped briefly out front when I was in the kitchen earlier. If I would’ve ran to go see, Jacob would’ve been suspicious, so I just fought my twitchy nerves and decided it was true that Silver came back home.
Dnk! Dnk!
I clap the golden knocker on his door and take a step back.
Why am I fixing myself? Even as I ask the question, I bite off my mitten and run my fingers through my hair. Anything to avoid the butterflies tickling my belly.
After twenty seconds of waiting like an idiot, I convince myself that the cab that stopped earlier wasn’t for him. I haven’t heard even a flicker of noise from inside, and the glass is all fogged. I think there’s a light on in the kitchen though.
Biting my lip again, I poke the doorbell.
The slowding dongof church bells makes me want to sprint in the other direction.
I’m overstepping. He asked me ten times to leave him alone. This isn’t like me—
I hold my breath when I think I see a flicker, but still… no noise.
“Do I need to get a restraining order?”
“Ahh!”I scream and hold my chest when I turn to see the enormous man behind me. “Shit.” I’m mad at myself for being such a fool.
As I’m relearning how to breathe, I scan him up and down. There’s a shadow of a smirk on his face, but it drops immediately.
“Get the fuck off my property. This is your last warning, kid.”
I shake my head. “This house is owned by an LLC, which is owned by another LLC, which is owned by three Hollywood producers—”
“Who all owe me their lives,” he growls. “Now get the fuckout.”
“What the hell were you even doing out here?” I raise my voice to match his. Not sure what’s come over me, but I won’t cower again. Call it another overcorrection.
He points to the shed and guest house down the way, and then to the gate for me to exit. His green eyes may as well be uncut emeralds. They’re haunting, and captivating, and—
“Do I have to call the rookie myself?” he growls.
“What’s that symbol? Is it a gang? It’s just two points. I’ve been scouring Google all day,” I ignore him.
He hasn’t blinked since I’ve defied him. There’s a stone-cold stare that speaks of both intrigue and murder. A ghoul wrapped in perfect skin is about to slay me, causing my heart to beat like a thousand-pound stone as I do my best to hold his gaze.
Despite thinking I’m tough, I buckle first.
He’s terrifying.
But he wouldn’t do anything to me… I’m the captain’s daught—
He grabs my arm tight and lifts it, my shoulder scratching my cheek as he turns the knob of his front door and pushes me inside.
My teeth bare in a mix of anger and shock. “The hell—”
“Shut it.”He slams the door behind his back. “I don’t need your caretaker phoning in anything to his boss. He’s already seen me once because of your incessant nagging. He sees me again? I’m a suspect in your fucking case.”
“Well then, tell me something I can use so I can leave you alone.” I push him again. My first theory about him is correct – he’s a statue of muscle under that coat. He doesn’t even budge.
Dad needs me.
I’m finally at the front door.
I could’ve sworn a cab stopped briefly out front when I was in the kitchen earlier. If I would’ve ran to go see, Jacob would’ve been suspicious, so I just fought my twitchy nerves and decided it was true that Silver came back home.
Dnk! Dnk!
I clap the golden knocker on his door and take a step back.
Why am I fixing myself? Even as I ask the question, I bite off my mitten and run my fingers through my hair. Anything to avoid the butterflies tickling my belly.
After twenty seconds of waiting like an idiot, I convince myself that the cab that stopped earlier wasn’t for him. I haven’t heard even a flicker of noise from inside, and the glass is all fogged. I think there’s a light on in the kitchen though.
Biting my lip again, I poke the doorbell.
The slowding dongof church bells makes me want to sprint in the other direction.
I’m overstepping. He asked me ten times to leave him alone. This isn’t like me—
I hold my breath when I think I see a flicker, but still… no noise.
“Do I need to get a restraining order?”
“Ahh!”I scream and hold my chest when I turn to see the enormous man behind me. “Shit.” I’m mad at myself for being such a fool.
As I’m relearning how to breathe, I scan him up and down. There’s a shadow of a smirk on his face, but it drops immediately.
“Get the fuck off my property. This is your last warning, kid.”
I shake my head. “This house is owned by an LLC, which is owned by another LLC, which is owned by three Hollywood producers—”
“Who all owe me their lives,” he growls. “Now get the fuckout.”
“What the hell were you even doing out here?” I raise my voice to match his. Not sure what’s come over me, but I won’t cower again. Call it another overcorrection.
He points to the shed and guest house down the way, and then to the gate for me to exit. His green eyes may as well be uncut emeralds. They’re haunting, and captivating, and—
“Do I have to call the rookie myself?” he growls.
“What’s that symbol? Is it a gang? It’s just two points. I’ve been scouring Google all day,” I ignore him.
He hasn’t blinked since I’ve defied him. There’s a stone-cold stare that speaks of both intrigue and murder. A ghoul wrapped in perfect skin is about to slay me, causing my heart to beat like a thousand-pound stone as I do my best to hold his gaze.
Despite thinking I’m tough, I buckle first.
He’s terrifying.
But he wouldn’t do anything to me… I’m the captain’s daught—
He grabs my arm tight and lifts it, my shoulder scratching my cheek as he turns the knob of his front door and pushes me inside.
My teeth bare in a mix of anger and shock. “The hell—”
“Shut it.”He slams the door behind his back. “I don’t need your caretaker phoning in anything to his boss. He’s already seen me once because of your incessant nagging. He sees me again? I’m a suspect in your fucking case.”
“Well then, tell me something I can use so I can leave you alone.” I push him again. My first theory about him is correct – he’s a statue of muscle under that coat. He doesn’t even budge.
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