Samantha Moon 24: Vampire Sire by J.R. Rain

Samantha Moon 24: Vampire Sire by J.R. Rain

Author:J.R. Rain [Rain, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eighteen

I found myself crying harder than I expected to, and it took me many minutes to get the tears under control. That a man had given up everything for me, my one-time father... oh, geez.

More tears flowed and, at one point, Anthony was hugging me while Tammy stood in the doorway. She had, undoubtedly, read every word with me, seeing it through my eyes. My daughter was, of course, the ultimate snoop. In this case, although the letter was deeply personal, I did not mind that she had seen what I had seen.

“It’s okay, Mommy,” Anthony was saying, over and over, sounding much younger than his fifteen years.

Tammy said nothing, but I saw the tears in her own eyes. She was wearing sweats and a Supergirl shirt. I’d asked earlier what the difference was between the Supergirl and Superman logo was, and, with a full eye roll that surely hurt, informed me that there was no difference. Duh. And added, “You’re such a dork.”

“Well, it’s a legitimate question,” I had asked. “Like, legit.”

“Did mom just say ‘legit’?” Anthony had asked, sauntering by with a sandwich in hand. Correction, three sandwiches in hand, all smashed together. Jelly and mayo oozed between slices of bologna, peanut butter and bananas. Sweet Moses, I had not just seen that.

The memory comes and goes as she stood in the doorway, crying quietly herself. She knew everything I knew about my own sire. I asked if she was okay, and she nodded, wiped her eyes, and asked if I was okay. I answered honestly. I didn’t know.

Anthony never did ask what was wrong. But when he saw that his work here was done, that his mother was under some semblance of control, he headed back into the living room, and continued his video game.

I carefully rolled up the scroll and re-tied the leather strap. I opened the top drawer in my desk and set it in inside, just behind my pens. The scroll was, quite literally, the story of a life. An important life. Jeffcock, despite how outrageous the name was, had been my father. A very good father at that. A loving and kind and hardworking father who let a little girl enjoy the magic of the world, without judgment or punishment, a father who had seen his world get turned upside down.

The scroll was also another story. It was the story of me, as a young girl, in another world and another time. It was a story I knew I would re-read over and over again, especially the scenes of playing in the woods, connecting with nature, and of me happy and content, pure and full of joy. I wonder... yes, I wonder if I would ever be that happy again? I doubted it. I had been magical and alive and connected, and all was right in the world.

Until the Red Rider appeared and took me away.

And he didn’t just take me away, did he? A part of me suspects I had been consumed alive, one bite at a time.



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