Page 52 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

I stood frozen in the doorway to my room, my eyes locked on where Magnolia was curled into a ball on the bed.

I wasn’t sure if she’d meant to say it aloud or if she’d thought I was already gone, but holy fuck.

I wanted to throw a damn parade, do a stupidly giddy dance in the hallway—hell, shout it from the rooftops.

But even from across the room, I could see her features contorting—pain wracking her body, even in sleep.

Focus, Taylor. It doesn’t count.

Not yet.

And she needed me more than I needed to hear it again.

With a relieved smile on my lips, I hurried into the kitchen and stashed the food in the fridge before digging into no-man’s land—a woman’s purse. Thankfully, Magnolia’s was at least somewhat organized, making it relatively easy to find her keys.

Her mumbled confession echoed in my ears, the sound growing sweeter with every repetition, as I drove toward her house. Suddenly, the stars were brighter, the crisp winter air more refreshing, and—to my unending surprise—Christmas music wasn’t quite so obnoxious.

Amazing what hearing that the woman you loved, loved you back could do to a person’s mood and general outlook on life.

Bellevue Manor was dark when I pulled into the drive, save for the icicle lights draping from the porch awning. I had to turn on my phone’s flashlight to find my way up the steps. But as I slipped the key into the lock, it hit me—I had no clue where I was going.

I’d never been in Magnolia’s room. Hell, I’d never been further into the house than the living room and kitchen. And yet, she trusted me enough to traipse through her house unaccompanied to find the things she needed.

A love confession and a new level of trust in one day? I needed to buy a lottery ticket.

The moment I pushed the door open, a strange warmth wrapped around me, trickling down my spine—seconds before something tapped against my shin, followed by a very angry-sounding yowl.

“Well, hello to you too, you angry cotton ball.”

“Meow.” The tone was unmistakable—fuck off.

“Well, that was rude. Can you show me where Magnolia’s room is, please?”

Meowfoy narrowed his eyes before flopping onto the floor like a fluffy barricade.

“You know I can just step over you, right?”

“Rraaaarr… Hisss.”

I sighed. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say, but I’m pretty sure that was a threat. One I’d be inclined to heed, if it weren’t for the fact that your mother sent me here to get her migraine medicine.”

A smaller mewl came from the stairs. Shifting my gaze, I spotted an orange version of the marshmallow at my feet, tail flicking side to side as it studied me… curiously? I don’t know. I don’t understand cats.

“Hermeownie, I presume?” I asked as I stepped over my arch-nemesis.

Naturally, Meowfoy took offense—swatting at my shoe, trying to bite my pants, hissing like a damn snake.

“Would you stop it? I’m just trying to help.”

A delicate mrrow sounded from the staircase before Hermeownie stood, arching into that signature feline stretch, before turning to head up the stairs.

Taking the cue, I hastened my steps away from her angry counterpart and followed.

The upstairs was bright and colorful, the walls adorned with countless frames—artwork, family photos, snapshots of life frozen in time.

I wanted to take it all in, to see Magnolia at every stage, to glimpse the childhood that had shaped her.

My gaze snagged on a blonde-haired Magnolia, head thrown back in laughter as she swung on a tire swing tied to an old oak tree—

An impatient yowl snapped me out of it.

“All right, all right, I’m coming.” Geez, these cats are bossy, I thought as I made my way to where she seemed to be sitting sentinel outside a door.

Don’t ask me why, but as I pushed the door open, I glanced down at her and asked, “Do you know where Mags keeps her meds?”

She gave me what looked like a curt nod before sashaying into the room.

Flicking the light on, I took a moment to take in Magnolia’s space. Jewel tones mingled with bright colors, soft surfaces met hard edges, books and knickknacks and art covered the walls and tables. It was an amalgamation of everything her, and I just wanted to soak it in.

Hermeownie jumped onto the bed, padded to the nightstand, and pawed at the covers before spinning in a circle and sitting down. Her expression—shockingly expressive for a cat—seemed to scream stop gawking and look over here, idiot.

Sure enough, three orange bottles caught my eye.

Picking them up, I checked the labels—Propranolol, a preventative, and two pain relievers, the generic versions of Fioricet and Maxalt.

“Damn, baby. How do you live like that?” I muttered, searching for something to carry them in. Finding a bag, I tossed the bottles inside and turned back to the cat. “Wanna help me find her some clothes?”

I had officially lost my mind. Or maybe I was turning into a Disney princess. Either way, I went with it.

To my increasing amazement, Hermeownie led me around the room, meowing at drawers and pawing at closet doors, directing me to what she apparently deemed acceptable options. I packed a small overnight bag, then asked, “Do you know where her cold cap is?”

With an exasperated huff—finally, you idiot—Hermeownie strutted back to the nightstand and brushed against it.

My confusion vanished when I opened the door and a blast of cool air hit me.

She had a mini fridge built into her nightstand.

Genius.

Grabbing two caps, I tossed them into the bag. “Thank you,” I said genuinely.

To my surprise, she brushed against my knee, nuzzling into my hand. Her purrs vibrated up my arm.

“I like you more than the other one,” I whispered, scratching behind her ear.

“Brrrow.”

The trip had taken longer than I’d intended, but when Magnolia didn’t respond to my text, I took it as a sign she was still asleep. With that in mind, I decided to take the long way home—swing by the supermarket.

She’d said chocolate and Coke helped her migraines, so I was going to get her some, dammit. Stock every nook and cranny with whatever she needed. Tampons, disks, liners? Just tell me the brand and size. Hell, if she had a condom preference, I’d switch in a heartbeat.

But as I turned down the street, my eyes locked onto a different destination.

Rage, which had dulled to a simmer while I took care of Magnolia, surged back, boiling over.

Kyle LeBlanc had stepped one toe too far out of line.

And it was about damn time someone put him in his goddamn place.

My knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as I took a sharp turn down the drive leading to the Mayor’s house. I’d spent most of my senior year here—studying, partying, watching my so-called friends skate through life. But now, all I saw were white walls housing hatred and bigotry.

I was out of the car and banging on the front door before I could second-guess my actions.

“If you don’t stop that racket—” The door flung open, and Cherie—their longtime housekeeper—went from annoyed to shock as she said, “Taylor. How good to see you.”

“As much as I love a friendly face,” I said, pushing past her, “where is he?”

“Who? Kyle?” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “What did that boy do now?”

“Does it matter?”

“Guess not. He’s in there, probably making a mess I’ll have to clean up later.”

I waited until she turned down the hall before throwing the doors open.

Kyle jolted, amber liquid sloshing over his glass, cigarette nearly slipping from his lips. His face was flushed, eyes glassy—three sheets to the wind didn’t even cover it.

His smirk widened as he staggered to his feet. He didn’t have a single scratch on him from what I could tell, and that just pissed me off even more.

“Taylorr! Mymanss. Fin’ly come to your senses?” he asked, his words slurring together.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I seethed, closing the distance between us.

Was this a HIPAA violation? Oh, no question. Especially since Magnolia hadn’t said who had been responsible for the accident. I wasn’t even sure if she knew, but I was past the point of caring.

Knocking the glass out of his hand, I shoved him toward the wall. “Not only did you drive, drunk off your ass by the looks of it, but you could have killed someone, you jackass!”

“I don know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” His words were a little clearer than they had been, though they still muddled together. But it was that insufferable, cocky smirk that he always had when he knew he would get away with something that snapped the last thread of restraint I’d been clinging to.

Slamming him back into the sheetrock, I gripped his shirt in my fists. “Do you know who you ran your car into? Do you know the extent of the damage you caused?” His smirk widened. “Do you even fucking care?”

“Why should I?”

It was the clearest his words had been since I’d stormed through the door, and the fire in his eyes stoked my own. He didn’t give two shits. Why would he when he always got away with everything? He had for as long as I’d known him.

Rage was a living force in my veins, growing stronger with every beat of my heart.

I didn’t care about the repercussions that beating the crap out of the Mayor’s son would bring.

All I knew was that I wanted to slam my fist into his face and wipe that fucking smirk off his lips.

Before I could think twice about what I was about to do, I raised my fist, arm cocked and ready to pummel the piece of shit in front of me.

Red filled my vision.

I wanted to hit him.

But then—

A slow, Southern drawl grated against my nerves.

“I’d think twice about that if I were you.”

The Mayor.

Fist still poised to strike, hand still fisted in Kyle’s shirt, I gritted out, “Why’s that?”

“Well, Dr. Hallows, we wouldn’t want that license you worked so hard for to get taken away, now would we?”

Kyle’s smirk deepened, smug and malicious.

My teeth ground together. “No.”

“Good. Glad we could come to an understanding.” He exhaled, feigning relief. “Surely, whatever my idiot son has done this time isn’t worth all this mess.”

I let my fist drop, shoving Kyle back as I straightened my own shirt. “He’s not worth the breath in his own damn lungs.”

Without another glance at either of them, I turned on my heel and stormed past his dad, out of the house, before I could change my mind.

Kyle wasn’t worth losing my medical license over.

But that wasn’t the only reason I stopped.

I wasn’t about to risk losing Magnolia over that worthless piece of shit.