Read Online Grayslake: Furrever Yours (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Georgette St. Clair - Free Book Online Page B

scooped her into his arms before her shaking legs could give out on her.

Chapter Eight
     
    “You did it,” Amelia said the minute she saw Heather at the beginning of their shift the next night.
    “Did what?”
    “Oh, please,” Amelia scoffed. “You totally did it with Knox. You have that I’ve-just-been-fucked look on your face, you’re turning redder than a rutabaga right now…”
    Heather took a step back, blushing furiously. She glanced around to make sure nobody was listening.
    “Well, just for the sake of argument, what makes you think it was Knox?”
    “Because you wouldn’t have done it with anyone else. He’s the one.” Amelia gave a smug grin. “So, finally! Did he say why it took him so long to make a move?”
    “How do you know he was the one who made the first move?”
    “Because I know you,” Amelia said, rolling her eyes. “You’d never make a move. When are you guys seeing each other again?”
    Heather was moving from room to room, checking all the cabinets to make sure they were fully stocked. Amelia stuck to her heels like Krazy Glue.
    “Hey, the ETOH is getting a little excited – you should go help,” Heather said, nodding her head across the hall. “ETOH” was an abbreviation for ethyl alcohol; in the emergency room, it meant an alcoholic patient, frequently suffering from the D.T.s.
    “Nice try, but Allen has it. So spill the beans, sister.” Allen was a bear shifter; Knox had told her that.
    Heather narrowed her eyes at her. “Nosy pants.”
    “Nosy pants? That’s the best you got? I think I rate at least an interfering bitch, thank you very much,” Amelia said with mock offense.
    It sucked that she couldn’t tell Amelia everything, but there were very compelling reasons why she couldn’t. “Okay, Knox had been getting over a very bad relationship, and as for when I’m seeing him again, tomorrow morning. Uh, someone broke into my house, so I’m going to be staying on his family’s property.”
    “You’ve moved in with that hottie already? Jackpot!” Amelia gasped. “I knew he totally loved you. Wait, what? Somebody broke into your house? Has Knox arrested them yet?”
    “No, not yet. It’s, uh, under investigation.”
    “You should have called me,” Amelia protested. “Were you home when it happened? Did they take anything?”
    “Cleanup on aisle eleven!” Allen bellowed. The drunk had just puked all over.
    “Wow, it hit the walls too. Impressive,” Amelia observed.
    “Oh, I gotta go,” Heather said, running towards Allen. She’d never been so glad to see projectile vomit in her entire life.
    The next few hours were, as usual, one catastrophe after another, until around 3 a.m., when things finally slowed down.
    Finally, Heather caught a break. She was exhausted, and she needed the sweet magic of caffeine or she was going to be very, very cranky soon. She glanced around. She didn’t see any of the people Knox had identified as shifters to help her out, and they were out of coffee in the break room.
    The Koffee Klatsch was only half a block away.
    She hurried out the front door, looking around her. No scary people in the parking lot. She should be okay.
    She bought a steaming-hot, extra-large cup of coffee with milk and four sugars.
    As she was returning, a man rushed out from a narrow alleyway and moved into her path. She let out a shriek.
    “Whoa, whoa, settle down,” he snapped, looking offended. He shoved a photograph at her. “I’m looking for this girl. She’s my daughter.”
    Disgust bubbled up inside her. This was the bastard who’d driven one daughter to suicide and tried to sell another to an abuser.
    “You’re blocking my path,” she said angrily. She tried to step around him, and he moved to block her again. “I just need you to look at this picture.” He waved a picture of Margaret in her face.
    “You need to step out of my way,” she said loudly, feeling panic rise in her. The man smelled faintly of booze, in that way that