Page 8 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

SIX

KIRA

Six unblinking black eyes stared at me from the corner of my pillow, four out of eight legs visible and twitching.

The last remnants of sleep shredded from my system as I screamed, and the spider leapt away from the crazy lady—aka me —who launched said pillow as far across the attic as humanly possible, while wrestling out of a sleeping bag that had seen better days.

My knee banged against the hard floor as I kicked the sleeping bag free, a string of muttered and varied fucks punctuating every panicked breath.

Husker popped to his feet, pacing around me as I frantically searched for the nearest blunt object I could find to take out the hairy-legged demon. There were stacks of boxes everywhere, but not a crowbar to be found.

Hiding out in the bookstore’s upstairs apartment for a night had been a risk, but I wasn’t ready to face anybody.

Not Dad, not my grandparents, and definitely not my brothers.

Though Aspen would’ve taken me in no questions asked, I didn’t want to disturb the newlyweds with a late, unannounced visit.

I had the key to the bookstore, as did the rest of my family.

It’d been on my keychain since the day Dad distributed them to each kid, shortly after Mom’s funeral.

I also packed a thermal sleeping bag—perks of having military veteran brothers.

One night of roughing it in the old, dusty apartment before I decided who to face first seemed doable.

I didn’t think about the fucking spiders that would take up residence in the vacant space.

A big, hairy spider that was currently MIA.

“Where’d it go?” I whimpered, spying my flip-flops and snatching one up. I didn’t want to sacrifice my favorite pair, but desperate times and all that. Charlotte and whatever web she had going on up here definitely had to go.

Morning twilight bathed the mostly empty space, but it wasn’t enough to track down the eight-legged asshole.

To be fair, she probably thought I was the asshole for intruding on her cozy, quiet space.

Either way, I wasn’t waiting for the sun to fully rise. I needed to be out of here before the bookstore opened.

I had a sinking suspicion that my archnemesis was either lurking inside my sleeping bag or hiding under my second pillow.

It would be a lot easier to prove or debunk my theory if I could risk turning on the overhead light.

But the moment I did, one of the early-morning coffee drinkers would no doubt notice and call Margene.

Or worse, Dad. Spider or no spider, I wanted to stay incognito every minute I could get away with .

Husker looked at me, then at the sleeping bag, then back to me.

“Leave it, Bubbies,” I said, quietly but firmly. The last thing I needed was the heart attack I’d surely have if my dog tried to wrestle a wolf spider the size of a damn bowling ball.

I scanned the studio apartment for inspiration, and discovered a yardstick propped against the wall.

With it and the flashlight of my phone, I sucked in a deep breath.

I scrunched up my face as my pulse raced off the charts, but pretended I was brave—because New Kira could do “hard things”—and poked the yardstick toward the opening of my sleeping bag.

Just as the shaky stick lifted the fabric, thunderous pounding echoed in the empty room.

I screamed again.

Husker paced in circles, whining.

“Police, open up.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled, recognizing Luke’s official tone. I started to call out to him, but then I remembered the door was deadbolted. I didn’t need him busting it open and breaking the damn door.

I slipped on my flip-flops, flipped open the deadbolt, and stepped out of the way. I knew my brother would charge into the room like he owned the damn place. He’d been banging on the door like he was prepared to raid a known drug den.

“Calm down, Rambo. It’s just me.”

“Kira?”

I flipped the light switch on as Husker weaved through the stacks of boxes and rushed my brother, pressing his body against Luke’s legs.

I had to admit, I wasn’t upset that those black uniform pants would be covered in blond fur.

To his credit, my brother bent over to give Husker pets.

He might be a grumpy pain in my ass most days, but my brother did have his redeeming qualities.

“Why are you here?” Luke asked, his tone an understandable mixture of annoyance and confusion.

He scanned the stacks of dusty boxes littered throughout the room, his gaze finally landing on my makeshift sleeping area.

I spread a blanket over the floor—only now able to see exactly how dirty it was—and put my sleeping bag on top, leaving room for Husker to curl up beside me.

The spider—Charlie, I decided—chose that moment to scurry out of my sleeping bag and make a beeline for the dark bathroom doorway. Dammit, I really had to pee.

“Why is the bookstore for sale?” I shot out.

“How did you get in?” We were both good at sidestepping the questions we didn’t want to answer. It was a dance we did well.

“My key?”

“Dad changed the locks a month ago. Your new key is sitting on his desk.” His tone was harsh, and his scowl an accusation.

“You think I broke in.” Not a question, because he wasn’t asking it.

“I know the place was locked,” Luke said, folding both arms over his chest. Most might find the pose intimidating, considering his height and muscular build. But I’d never been rattled by him. Call it emotional calluses from years of handling both my brothers. “I checked it myself. ”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I used the key. Maybe you didn’t do a very good job of checking it.”

“I check it every night,” he said, his words a defensive growl.

“How did you even know I was here?”

I was careful to park a couple of blocks away, in an overflow lot that was filled with local and tourists’ cars alike. No one in the family knew about my red Jeep. It was a recent purchase, and I didn’t think to text anyone the news. I didn’t think anyone would be all that happy for me.

“Silent alarm was tripped.”

“Wow, you need to work on your response time.”

“I came right over, before you could finish making camp. Did you think no one would find you here when the store opened?”

“Before I could—” I shook my head, already exhausted with my brother. Five minutes had to be a new record. Clearly, my calluses had softened with disuse. “Does it matter if someone finds me here?” I fired back. “There’s a reason we have keys.”

“ You don’t have a key.”

I covered my face with both hands and groaned.

I needed an iced coffee stat. It wasn’t fair I was being forced to face my brother on low caffeine levels.

My lower back ached from a rough night on the floor, my stomach was rumbling, and I felt like I could sleep for two days if everyone would just leave me the hell alone.

Why did I keep running into irritating men?

“Can we not do this right now?”

I stuffed the few loose items I had into my duffle, including the clothes I was wearing when I fell into Ghost Lake. I couldn’t decide whether this confrontation was better before or after a near-drowning experience.

I shuddered at the memory of the pondweed wrapping around my foot when I went under. For a moment that felt like an eternity, I was certain I was going to die. That Husker would be floating around solo on a paddleboard, and no one would even know I was in the lake.

“Why are you here, Kira?” Luke asked, his tone gentler.

“You wouldn’t understand.” I’d tried to tell him once, about my Mom dreams. But he scoffed as if I were crazy.

“Well, whatever the reason, you can’t stay here.”

“Who put you in charge?”

It was Luke’s turn to groan, and he scrubbed a hand over his face.

Small wins.

“I wasn’t planning to move in,” I said, meaning to lighten the mood.

“Did he hit you?”

“What?”

“Where’s The Asswipe?”

It took me several beats to realize my brother meant Travis, and the glacial layer around my heart thawed a sliver.

“We broke up,” I told him.

Though Travis never actually hit me, I didn’t know what Luke would do if he found out he cocked a fist right at my face the day I came home from Colorado last summer.

“I hope you mean that. ”

The words hit me like a blow, but I couldn’t pretend I didn’t deserve it. I lied before when it came to Travis, especially to my family. I thought I was protecting someone I cared about. But it turned out, I was just stupid.

“Why is Dad selling the bookstore?” I tried again as I rolled up my sleeping bag. I had half a mind to leave it behind in case the eight-legged demon invited a friend over when I wasn’t looking. Did Charlie have friends, or did she just eat them for a snack?

“You’ll have to ask him.”

An answer I should have anticipated.

“Right.”

“How long you staying?” he asked, arms folded again as he leaned in the doorway. It was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere until he followed me out of the building.

“Haven’t decided.”

“Typical.”

Defensiveness rose in my chest, but I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths before I spoke. My brother knew how to rile me up on the best days. On the days I had shitty sleep and drowning nightmares, I was extra susceptible to his bullshit.

“Want a coffee?” I asked, trying to be the bigger person. Trying to extend an olive branch.

“Why would I want a coffee? I just got off my shift, and I’m fucking wiped. I was almost in bed when?—”

“You know what, forget it.”

I shouldered my backpack, wedged the sleeping bag under my arm, and clipped on Husker’s leash. Luke stood in the doorway, like the roadblock he was, until I glared at him to move. Smart man that he was, he stepped to the side and let me pass.

“Kira?” he called from the top of the stairs.

“Yeah?” I turned to look back at him, hoping he had a change of heart about the coffee. If I could get through to Luke, the rest of the family would be a cakewalk. Or so I hoped.

“If I find out you’re lying about Travis?—”

I resisted the urge to give my brother the middle finger, mostly on account of not having any free hands, and rushed out the back door.

Maybe coming back was a mistake.