Hopeful Whispers by Bink Cummings

Author:Bink Cummings [Cummings, Bink]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Kat

What a day. What. A. Day. After a bath that turned my fingers and toes to prunes, I dressed in one of Ryker’s Harley T’s that fits snuggly around my belly, and a pair of his sweatpants with ankle cuffs so they can’t drag underfoot. I might look like Tweedledee sporting MC Hammer pants, but I’m cool with that. They’re comfy. Kade delivered the suitcases to the bedroom. However, I didn’t wanna weed through them to find pajamas. Ryker’s clothes suit me just fine. And if I’m being honest, I kinda like the idea of something he’s worn before wrapped around me. Call me sentimental. I don’t care. It is what it is.

Once I emerged from the bedroom, refreshed, I found my dad, Bear, Kade and the girls chitchatting in the kitchen. We ordered pizza, Kade discovered a marathon of Harry Potter on TV, and we settled in for a pleasant, no stress evening of family bonding. Scarlett, as I suspected, stayed glued to Kade’s hip. While Roxie, my independent child, kept to herself. It was nice to catch up. By the time the kids’ bedtime rolled around, Rosie arrived, and took up her temporary quarters in the spare bedroom, after she double checked all the doors and windows for security purposes. The men left together sometime thereafter, leaving the Suburban out back and me with its keys. Ryker has yet to be seen or heard from. Now, I’m curled up in the dark on the oversized chair in the living room, reading a blue alien romance on my Kindle. For my protection, there’s a handgun on the end table next to me. I found it locked and loaded in Ryker’s drawer underneath his sweats. Figure you can never be too careful, and I don’t think he’d mind.

Lost in the world of weird creatures, snow, and symbionts, I’m sluggish to respond to the creaky floorboard behind me until the noise happens again. Heart jacking up my esophagus, I swiftly yet silently reach for the gun and curl deeper into the chair, hoping whomever’s in the house hasn’t seen me. There’s a rustling of fabric. Another creak. Whomever it is, is getting closer. Cold sweat beads on the base of my neck, goosebumps sprouting from toes to nose. Pressing my lips together, holding my panicked breath, I force my pulse to quit pounding fervently. I don’t want them to hear it.

Creak.

Screw this. I’m not a victim. I can’t just sit here and wait. If they wanna come into my house and fuck with me, I’ll show them who’s boss. Knifing up in the chair surprisingly fast for a pregnant chick, I aim my gun at the black figure standing next to the kitchen table. “Freeze, motherfucker!” Spewing venom, I cock the gun. Click.

The silhouettes’ thick arms shoot in the air before stumbling over the nearest chair and knocking it on its side. “Fuck!” a familiar voice booms. “Put the gun away,” he then demands, righting himself and the chair on four legs.

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