Page 106 of Undeniably Corrupt

A loud bangwakes me from one of the deepest sleeps I’ve had in years. I jolt up and fall out of bed at the same time, tumbling to the floor in a mess of arms and legs. For a moment, I have no clue where I am, and with that, my heart pounds harder.

I search around and realize I’m on the floor in Vander’s bedroom.

Hazel. Shit. What time is it?

I drag myself up off the floor and slam my shin into the wooden side of the bed as I go. “Ow! Crap, crap! That freaking hurts.” I jump on my other leg and spin around to find Vander’s side empty. And the clock on his nightstand says… “Oh my God! How did I sleep till nine?”

I race out of his room and down the hall toward the stairs, forgetting my smarting shin. I’m about to round the banister and fly up to the third floor when a sound from the first floor stops me. A squeal. Hazel.

My feet carry me down the steps so fast I’m shocked I don’t fall. I follow the sound and come to a screeching halt when I find Vander at the stove and Hazel on the counter a safe distance away.

“You ready? Should we try again?”

“No!” she cries.

“You sure? I think I can do it this time.”

“No! You dropped two.”

“Third time’s a charm. Come on. Count with me. One, two, three!”

Hazel counts with him, and I watch as Vander double clutches the pan’s handle and flips a giant, oddly shaped pancake in the air and catches it—sorta—in the pan.

“Success!” Vander crows triumphantly. “See. Told you I could do it.”

Hazel applauds and wiggles a happy dance before she pushes herself back on the counter so she doesn’t fall.

“Careful,” he warns. “I can’t catch pancakes and you at the same time.”

“I’m good,” she singsongs.

“Good, because this one is ready.” He sets the pan down andshuts off the stove. “Here, let’s get you in your chair. You said blueberries and strawberries for Mickey’s face?”

“Please.”

I smile at the please, but it’s all I’ve got because everything else inside of me is busy squeezing my chest so tight I can hardly breathe. He picks Hazel up off the counter and carries her to a seat at the bar, and that’s when they catch me.

“Mommy!”

“Hey,” Vander chimes in after her. “Good morning.”

He takes me in from head to toe, his lips twitching while his eyes turn molten, and I realize it’s because in my wild panic and haste to find Hazel, I didn’t get dressed, and I’m still only wearing his T-shirt.

“We’re making pancakes.”

“Mickey pancakes,” Hazel corrects.

“Yes. Mickey pancakes.” He sets her down and walks over to me. “I hope this is okay. You were sound asleep when Hazel woke up, and I didn’t want to wake you. We needed a few things, so we went to Broadway Market. I would have asked, but again, you were asleep.”

“You went grocery shopping together?”

“Yes.”

“And you made her Mickey Mouse pancakes?”

“I can’t tell if you’re mad or about to cry.”

“Not mad.”