Read Online Paper Tigers by Damien Angelica Walters - Free Book Online

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    â€œPlease, could you show me the pages again? The pictures?”
    Elena gave the album another nudge. “You look and see.”
    â€œBut when I—”
    Behind Alison, a man cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Could I interrupt for a moment? I’m interested in the desk, but I can’t find a price.”
    â€œYes, I help you,” Elena said.
    Go, please.
    Alison shoved the album back in the shopping bag and the paper in her pants pocket and wound her way back around the plastic bags and the boxes.
    Go away, Monstergirl.
    We can’t help you with the tiger.

    Halfway home, the sky darkened from slate to charcoal, and the rain became a deluge whipped sideways by the wind. In seconds, Alison’s pants turned dark and her shoes grew sodden and heavy, and she ducked under the awning of an empty building.
    The pages had turned. All of them. Fighting the urge to pull the album from the bag and check it herself, she shifted her weight back and forth as rain tap-danced against the shopping bag.
    Maybe they were only stuck together for her.
    A jagged bolt of lightning split the sky, filling the air with an ozone stink. Thunder rumbled, long and low. Lightning flashed again. She stepped out from the awning, moving with quick, limping steps, her hip crying out in protest. The piece of paper in her pocket held the weight of a promise, but if she—
    A muscle spasm struck near the base of her wrist, white-hot pain flaring below the scar tissue. Her fingers twitched, and the bag slipped from her fingers, landing on the pavement with a wet thump.
    With a groan, she shifted the umbrella, pressing the handle close to her chest with her forearm. Her traitorous fingers skittered against the bag’s corded handle and once she had it firmly in her grip, the umbrella slid forward. She jolted upright in response, but the umbrella kept its momentum, aided by the wind, and slipped from her grasp. Another gust carried it further away.
    She barked a laugh and lurched forward. Rain soaked her scarf, pinning it to her head, and streaked the lenses of her glasses. Footsteps approached. Splashing, squeaking.
    A scratchy voice said, “Here, let me help.”
    Don’t look at me. Oh, please, don’t look at me.
    Clutching the shopping bag tight, she took the umbrella from the stranger’s hand. “Thank you,” she said.
    â€œMost welcome. Take care now.”
    Lightning pierced the gloom, turning everything momentarily bright. Alison whirled away, nearly losing the umbrella again in the process. But did he see her face, and she his? And what of the look in his eyes? She hunched her shoulders. It didn’t matter what he saw or didn’t see. He’d helped her, hadn’t he?
    The muscles in her wrist relaxed, but her hip continued its steady throb, and when she crossed onto her street, she let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a sob. Her front door loomed close, the promise of warm and dry tucked inside. A tiger of brick, plaster, and glass to swallow her whole—to swallow her away from the world.
    The album banged against her leg, and she thought she heard the rustle of pages as she turned the key in the lock. A car door slammed shut, and someone called out her name. Her mother rushed over, shielding her face from the rain with one hand, and Alison laughed, urging her to hurry inside.
    â€œIs everything okay?”
    â€œEverything’s fine,” Alison said, setting the shopping bag by the door. “Here, let me take your coat.”
    â€œDon’t worry about me. You need to get out of those clothes. You’re soaking wet. What possessed you to go out in weather like this?”
    â€œTrust me. It wasn’t raining like this when I went out.” Alison peeled off her scarf and gloves. Inside the bag, the photo album beckoned. “But what are you doing here?”
    â€œDon’t you remember? We’re having dinner tonight.”
    Alison pressed