Page 79 of Demons

King glanced at Storm and gave him a shake of his head, as if to tell him to shut up. I was with King on that, but then I also understood where Storm was coming from. I wasn’t sure what to label this either. We had been in our own little bubble, and it had been easy to let the outside world fade away.

But the outside world was back. Bubble popped.

Thatcher said nothing.

“I don’t think there is a definition for it,” I told him, and Thatcher’s hold on me tightened. I glanced up at him. “I mean, we, uh, um …” I had no idea what it was I should say.

“She stays with me,” Thatcher said. “My house. My bed. With me.”

King nodded. “All right. What about her house? Does she ever get to go back there?”

“No,” Thatcher snarled.

King’s eyes shifted to me. “You think you can handle … this?” I knew by the this, he meant Thatcher’s crazy that they all seemed to pin him with.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Fucking doubt it,” Sebastian replied.

Thatcher dropped his arm around me and moved toward him so fast that I barely had time to call his name.

King and Storm moved between the two brothers.

“Go the fuck outside, Sebastian,” King barked.

Sebastian started to move, and Thatcher’s eyes followed him to the door. I stood there, afraid to move.

“You got her,” King said to him. “She’s right there. Calm down and let him go.”

He didn’t move.

“Thatcher,” I called out, and finally, he turned his head back to look at me. There was that darkness there. Warring inside him. The one he fought to have control over. “It’s okay. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t understand. I’m coming with you.”

His eyes searched my face. “Staying with me.”

I nodded.

“My house.”

“If that is where you want me.”

His shoulders eased. His eyes cleared.

What in the world had I gotten myself into?

• Thirty-Six •

Sorry, Dad, but we never wanted the same things

Capri

Standing inside the Shephards’ mansion, I twisted my hands nervously.

Before we had gotten back, Stellan had been called, and the plan to disarm all that Thatcher had caused by taking me was set into place. Instead of me going to my parents to talk to them, they would come here. To the ranch. The law enforcement and media were also alerted. When we arrived, they were all in place.

I was taken into library at the Shephards’ home and asked questions by the detectives on the case. All surrounding the day I had left with Thatcher, previous interactions, our relationship, my working here, et cetera. I answered all of it honestly—for the most part. They didn’t seem to want to pin anything on Thatcher, and the fact that I was telling the media and my parents that I had chosen to go with him seemed to relieve them. I had worried about this part most of all because I was sure they’d want to get Thatcher for something.

Thatcher was waiting outside the door since he hadn’t been allowed inside. It had taken me pleading with him to calm down and to wait on me outside the door. When it opened, he pushed past the officer and came straight to me, pulling me to him and glaring at the others like they’d made it on his shit list.

---