Read Online For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings) by A.L. Davroe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A.L. Davroe
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dead. I glance at Jeanette. The fact that Jeanette no longer has her mother seems very sad to me. Perhaps because I don’t have one either.
Chapter 14
Jeanette
As the mantle clock chimes ten, I close my book and glance around the living room. Dad’s passed out in his chair, snoring. I look at Black Butler , the latest manga that Emily shoved in my backpack this afternoon, and smile.
Thank God for Emily. I don't know what I'd do with my dorky obsession with anime and manga if it weren't for her. Celeste may make fun of it, but ogling hot supernatural anime guys sure beats trying to find something favorable in the incestuous puddle of hormone-suppressed Catholic boys I've known since kindergarten. And now look where your lust for adventure has gotten you, Jeanette.
For a moment, my mind conjures Green Man flashing his big, stupid smirk and saying, “I’m one hell of an imaginary man.”
Sighing at my own twisted mind, I shove Neko-Neko off of my lap and stand. Much as I’m not keen on leaving my father’s presence, I know I can’t hide behind him like a frightened child forever. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Startled, Dad straightens and blinks. “Oh, g'night,” he says through a yawn.
Dread pooling in my stomach, I tuck my book under my arm. Slipping out of the room, I ninja-climb the two flights to my bedroom. No sign of a stalker. As I close my door, I hear Dad turn the television to the late night news. The sound of the weather report cutting through the silence of the house is a comfort. Sunny with no chance of clouds or rain.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You’re being stupid,” I say to myself. I file Black Butler into the wall-length shelf of books in my room and turn around.
Him .
With a choked gasp, I fling myself backward and smash into the shelf, knocking most of my books to the floor. For an instant, a scream bubbles up, but I note the presence of both knife and arrows and choke it back. A scream would bring Dad running and, in the unlikely event he is real, I don't want Green Man to kill him.
I swallow hard and try my best to look more angry than frightened. I half turn to recover my books, hiding my face behind my hair while still keeping an eye on him. “What the hell are you doing in here?” I demand.
Green Man crouches beside me. “You knew I was coming. I did tell you. And you made an obvious point of avoiding me.” He picks up books and hands them to me. I shove them onto the shelf, not paying attention whether they’re in alphabetical order. “It’s very rude to make people wait, you know. I missed dinner.”
I give a sarcastic roll of my eyes at the book in my hands. “Pardon me for not being sensitive to your needs.”
Green Man picks up a copy of Nephilim John and inspects it. “Angels?”
Feeling myself blush, I tear the book out of his hand and cradle it against my chest. “I like paranormal stuff, okay.” I move to the side in a protective gesture. “I refuse to be judged by a sociopath.”
“I’m a sociopath, am I?” Green Man asks as he wanders over and sits on the edge of my bed.
“Imaginary sociopath.”
His eyes peruse my room with interest, his brows lifting and lowering at each new discovery – especially my Game of Thrones poster. It must surprise him that he’s not the first person to dress like he belongs in a castle – which he totally does. One would have thought he’d get rid of the school uniform and go back to his Snow White and the Huntsman get-up, but apparently murderous house-calls warrant something more gentlemanly.
I bite my lip. Part of me wants to crank on him about dirtying his lovely outfit, but it’s probably a bad idea to barb the suspected
Chapter 14
Jeanette
As the mantle clock chimes ten, I close my book and glance around the living room. Dad’s passed out in his chair, snoring. I look at Black Butler , the latest manga that Emily shoved in my backpack this afternoon, and smile.
Thank God for Emily. I don't know what I'd do with my dorky obsession with anime and manga if it weren't for her. Celeste may make fun of it, but ogling hot supernatural anime guys sure beats trying to find something favorable in the incestuous puddle of hormone-suppressed Catholic boys I've known since kindergarten. And now look where your lust for adventure has gotten you, Jeanette.
For a moment, my mind conjures Green Man flashing his big, stupid smirk and saying, “I’m one hell of an imaginary man.”
Sighing at my own twisted mind, I shove Neko-Neko off of my lap and stand. Much as I’m not keen on leaving my father’s presence, I know I can’t hide behind him like a frightened child forever. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Startled, Dad straightens and blinks. “Oh, g'night,” he says through a yawn.
Dread pooling in my stomach, I tuck my book under my arm. Slipping out of the room, I ninja-climb the two flights to my bedroom. No sign of a stalker. As I close my door, I hear Dad turn the television to the late night news. The sound of the weather report cutting through the silence of the house is a comfort. Sunny with no chance of clouds or rain.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You’re being stupid,” I say to myself. I file Black Butler into the wall-length shelf of books in my room and turn around.
Him .
With a choked gasp, I fling myself backward and smash into the shelf, knocking most of my books to the floor. For an instant, a scream bubbles up, but I note the presence of both knife and arrows and choke it back. A scream would bring Dad running and, in the unlikely event he is real, I don't want Green Man to kill him.
I swallow hard and try my best to look more angry than frightened. I half turn to recover my books, hiding my face behind my hair while still keeping an eye on him. “What the hell are you doing in here?” I demand.
Green Man crouches beside me. “You knew I was coming. I did tell you. And you made an obvious point of avoiding me.” He picks up books and hands them to me. I shove them onto the shelf, not paying attention whether they’re in alphabetical order. “It’s very rude to make people wait, you know. I missed dinner.”
I give a sarcastic roll of my eyes at the book in my hands. “Pardon me for not being sensitive to your needs.”
Green Man picks up a copy of Nephilim John and inspects it. “Angels?”
Feeling myself blush, I tear the book out of his hand and cradle it against my chest. “I like paranormal stuff, okay.” I move to the side in a protective gesture. “I refuse to be judged by a sociopath.”
“I’m a sociopath, am I?” Green Man asks as he wanders over and sits on the edge of my bed.
“Imaginary sociopath.”
His eyes peruse my room with interest, his brows lifting and lowering at each new discovery – especially my Game of Thrones poster. It must surprise him that he’s not the first person to dress like he belongs in a castle – which he totally does. One would have thought he’d get rid of the school uniform and go back to his Snow White and the Huntsman get-up, but apparently murderous house-calls warrant something more gentlemanly.
I bite my lip. Part of me wants to crank on him about dirtying his lovely outfit, but it’s probably a bad idea to barb the suspected
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