Page 69 of Wanted

“Your badge doesn’t scare me, Silas.”

“Neither do you.” He raises a cocky eyebrow.

I give him my back, and his laughter follows me out the door.

Frankie waits for me in the lobby, playing with her old phone.

“You’re trouble,” I growl.

“The battery’s dead.”

“I might have a charger back at the Sanctuary.”

Stepping into the sun cleanses Silas’s provocative words from my head. My irritation cools enough to focus on driving us home.

“You’re quiet,” I intrude on the silent drive. The only sound filling the cab is the rush of tires eating up the pavement.

“I don’t know what I need this for now that you bought me a new one.” She holds up the useless block of wires and plastic. “I programmed all the important numbers into the other one already.”

“Is it a smart phone?”

“It had some capabilities, but I couldn’t use social media apps or video chat.”

“Does it have location services?”

“I think so. I could use maps to get where I needed to be.”

“Your ex have that information?”

She shrugs. “Probably.”

I pluck the phone out of her fingers and chuck it out my open window.

“I just got that back!”

“Do you want me to turn around and go get it?”

The sound of her huff fills the cab. “No.”

I check the rearview mirror, then take a left turn. “Then why are you pouting?”

“I’m jealous I didn’t get to throw it out the window. Not only did it look like fun, but it would have felt really symbolic.”

17

Frankie

My yawn threatens to wake up the whole house. Wearing Jude’s tee shirt and a pair of soft cotton pants, I pad down the stairs with Ashe on my heels. The kitchen lights jolt me awake as I flip them on, moving easily into my new routine despite being half asleep.

Jude finally conceded on the breakfast issue and gives me a wide berth to prep our first meal without his grumbling ass.

I have to admit, he’s been less of an ass lately, and I never minded the grumbly parts in the first place. In fact, I like the grumbly parts more than I want to admit. The way his voice sounds, deeper and raspy, when he’s entered a verbal sparring match with me, brings up fond memories.

I fail to stifle another loud yawn as I flip over the fried eggs. Bacon sizzles in a separate pan. Ashe settles next to my feet, only raising her head when the toast pops up, ready for a pat of butter.

We were up late last night. A new hound came in, and it would seem the poor baby is terrified of storms. The long rain last night had plenty of thunder that sent the scared boy into howling cries for half the night. No matter what Jude and I tried to do—and we tried everything—it didn’t help.

In the end, a little medication is the only thing that calmed him down.

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