Page 121 of Overcast

He has this way of making me anxious in a millisecond, and I don’t have a defense built up for that yet.

I didn’t have a lot of what I have now since Emric.

I’d like to think that I’m a little braver. That I can do exactly what Mills just said—I can function.

He’s correct, I can.

Still don’t want to deal with Emric’s bipolar mood swings.

Outside, I find Emric cutting wood off a large tree trunk, clearly getting some pent-up aggression out of his body.

And for what reason, I have no idea, but I’m sure it has something to do with his sour frame of mind.

When he notices me approaching, Emric stalls his next swing and props the ax over his shoulder. “I have some news for you.”

I clasp my hands together, keeping a careful and lengthy space between us. Especially since he’s in a great position to swing that sharp object in my direction.

I’ve watched baseball and what he can do with a bat.

“Do I need to shout it across the yard, sweetheart, or are you going to come closer so I can tell you?”

Okay, so maybe I have more than a lengthy space in the middle of us. It’s more like the distance between Pluto and the sun.

I inwardly groan, eyes still locked on what’s in his hand. He’s preached that he won’t harm me while being here, but...there’s a blinking red light in the back of my head that’s warning me to yield.

Noticing my hesitation, he promptly drops it. “Better?” He extends both hands in the air to show that he’s not armed with anything else.

When I move, he mocks my steps until we’re within arm’s length of each other. But when I think he’s going to come right out and tell me, he just stares at me, flicking his eyes everywhere around my face.

“What is it?” I ask finally, anxiety brimming through my head. “Did something happen?”

He frowns, casting a more serious look on his face. “I let your dad go today.”

My eyes expand. “What?”

“He’s receiving medical attention—” He shoves his hands in the front pocket of his jeans as I blink away the burn of tears forming. “—and he can go home probably in a few days.”

“Is he okay?”

What did he and his men do?

“He’ll survive.” I open my mouth, but it trembles in response to the news. A mixture of relief and worry clamors through my brain, but he’ll live. He won’t die in that dingy warehouse Emric took me to.

Emric kept his promise to me.

“I—thank you,” I quip, blinking back waterworks. “It means more to me than you’ll ever know.” He bows his head but remains silent, obviously not wanting praise. “But...aren’t you afraid of him...going to the cops?”

“Um, no.”

My brows knit. “Why? He could—”

“He got a warning, Stormi. Trust me when I say, he won’t be running to any pig to file a report.” I bob my head, not understanding but not going to push the matter anymore. “Now, let’s talk about you and Mills.”

“Huh?”

“My man and you,” he repeats, erasing more space between us. “All comfy and cozy on the couch a few minutes ago.”

Comfy, and what?

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