In Search of Healing by Katie Holmburg

Author:Katie Holmburg [Holmburg, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-10T22:00:00+00:00

* . * . *

The car ride was quiet, unusually so. Lirim could tell that Aletta was concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what was bothering her. He could tell from the affection in her voice when she talked about her family that she wasn’t seriously worried about being interrogated at the barbecue.

He glanced at himself but could find nothing wrong with his appearance. He had brought nice clothes with him to the gym so he’d look nice when they’d visited her family. He was surprised that she was dressed so casually in just jeans and a pretty turquoise top, her hair hanging loose. He glanced over to where she was looking out the window, chewing absently at her lip. He looked himself over for a second time but couldn’t find anything that would cause that level of worry. You couldn’t even tell that he’d been sparring with a Lycan a little while before.

He felt an idea click into place. Was she mad that he had sparred with Cyrus? Neither of them had been hurt, and it had been nice not to have to hold back for a change. Still, if it had upset her for some reason, he had better get to the bottom of it.

He asked quietly, “Are you mad that I sparred with Tala?”

She looked at him, her expression startled. “What?”

He repeated, “Are you mad that I sparred with Tala?”

Her expression shifted into puzzlement. “Why would I be mad that you two sparred? Baffled by how two men can pound on each other and suddenly be friends, but not mad.”

He chuckled quietly at that but didn’t drop it. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “You seem... upset for some reason. Is it something I did?”

She frowned at him, “What? No! Why would you even think that?”

“We’ve been driving for nearly half an hour now, and you haven’t said anything besides giving me your parents’ address.”

Her frown faded away and was replaced by that distant thoughtful expression again. “Oh. No, I’m not mad at you. I’m just thinking about something is all.”

Not liking that expression on her, he asked cautiously, “Is it something I can help with?”

She sighed, her frustration clearly evident in the sound. “I have a question, and I don’t know how to phrase it without it being either incredibly offensive and/or racist.”

This surprised him, and he examined her out of the corner of his eye. She fidgeted nervously in her seat, her fingers playing restlessly with her seatbelt. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking about that could fall into that category, but it was obvious that it was deeply concerning to her.

He shrugged. “Why don’t you just ask your question, and I can let you know if it crosses a line or not? After all, I can’t tell you if I don’t know what is bothering you.”

She stilled, her fingers freezing on the belt. Breathing deeply, she seemed to scrape her courage together. “All right, but please don’t hate me.”

He was starting to get concerned, but he made himself chuckle, “You are way overthinking this.

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