Shake: Dystopian Urban Fantasy Conspiracy Theory Romance Novelette (The Great Keeper series Book 1) by Adelaide Walsh

Author:Adelaide Walsh [Walsh, Adelaide]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-28T05:00:00+00:00

Part III

Chapter 8

“No,” Armand whispered, furrowing his brows and shaking his head slowly.

“What is it?” Adele asked, glancing over at him casually.

“No! No, no no!” Armand screamed, his jaws clenched and his face red.

“Armand-“ Adele rushed over, touching Armand’s shoulder gently.

“They killed him!” He threw his phone across the room. “They have killed Philippe. He was our art. He was our voice. They have killed him because he was too foolish to take a break from painting.”

“Oh, no,” Adele whimpered, a tear rolling slowly down her cheek.

“Adele,” Armand said firmly, grabbing her arms in his hands. “We must stay here and hide. We must not go anywhere until we figure out who was behind this. Close all of the curtains.”

Adele did as she was told. She felt fear dancing in the pit of her stomach. She had always trusted Armand to keep her safe, but so had Philippe. She knew that in part, this was Philippe’s on fault for being so reckless, but still, had Armand known these people were out to kill them, he would have gone to greater lengths to protect them. She was sure of that. This was the first time since receiving his initial message, that Adele worried there was someone more powerful than Armand.

After a few hours and several angry phone calls, Armand had cooled off a bit. He was no longer red faced and shouting, but Adele could see he was still on the defense. She did her best to comfort him.

“Why don’t we see what’s on the television?” Adele suggested, putting on a warm, maternal smile.

“Okay, sure,” Armand replied, a tinge of defeat in his voice.

Adele poured two glasses of wine and turned on the television in their bedroom. She went into the kitchen and prepared dinner. She recalled her childhood, and how her mother had always made her spaghetti and garlic bread when she was upset. She made the same for Armand. She returned to the bedroom with their dinner. Armand smiled, his face warm and inviting for the first time all day.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” he said, grabbing a plate and kissing Adele.

“I love you too,” she said, still feeling surprised to hear the words come from her lips. Everything had happened so quickly with Armand. She was sure that she loved him, but when she said it, it was as if she were reminding herself of some incredible fact she had just discovered.

They found a film on the television. It was a classic. They had both seen the film dozens of times growing up, but they still enjoyed it. They took turns quoting lines to one another. They had finished eating and were snuggled up smiling when it came time for a commercial break.

“I hate commercials,” Armand sighed.

“Really? I actually kind of like them. I know I’m weird.” Adele waited for Armand to laugh, or to reassure her, or react in some form, but he didn’t. His eyes were glued to the television. Adele watched, to see what was so interesting.

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