Page 92 of Overcast

It's beenthree days of the same routine.

Stormi ignoring me.

My trying to get her to eat.

Her giving me the cold-shoulder some more.

And my attempts to do the best I can to make her as comfortable as possible.

Reagan left with Wade and Huck yesterday, stopping in Connecticut at her old house before taking off to Italy. She promised to check in twice a day. It still wasn't good enough, so I sent two of my guys to look over them and make sure they stayed protected and safe.

Sister dearest doesn't know that, though.

Scrambling through my nearly empty fridge, I need to hit town for groceries, but I'm not leaving Stormi here alone.

That and I don't trust her like she said.

The last thing I want to do is go on a woman hunt for her in the woods while she's still recovering.

So, pizza it is.

Yanking my cell out of my pocket, I order up two large pizzas, one with pepperoni and the other with every meat known to man for myself.

I'd go up and ask her what she likes, but the room goes down a few degrees each time I enter, so I refrain from going in there.

A half-hour later, the pizza arrives, and I'm trucking up the stairs to see which kind she prefers.

Only, funny fucking thing is, she's not in her room.

Sprinting back to the stairs, the bathroom door is still wide open, but that window she's always staring out—wide open.

Flying down the steps, I'm on my porch within seconds and studying the terrain for her ass.

If she was smart, she wouldn’t be running around with stitches in her thigh.

But who the hell am I?

Lucien is supposed to be swinging by after his hospital rounds tonight, and I'm not about to get bitched at for her acting like a moron.

I already feel like one.

Since we've done something like this similarly before, minus the stab wound, I run towards Reagan's house. It's the evening, someone could drive down the desolate road, and lately my luck hasn't been up to par.

She'd be hard to turn down for a ride, a pretty little thing on the side of the road looking for help. And if it's a dude on top of it, well, it only leaves me one option.

It'll be a little bloody, and I don't want to hurt anyone else that doesn't deserve it, or that's in the wrong place at the wrong time, however...she's not going anywhere.

Dressed still all in black, I cuss myself out for picking the perfect color for us to play hide and seek in. I could've looked at the security cameras outside the property, but there's seriously no time.

I'm taller than her, I know for a fact I can run faster, it's just finding her that might not work out in my favor.

Clearing some of the woods that opens up to my sister's property and the small lake, I see movement. It's going down the gravel driveway of Reagan's, and I focus in on her, extending my stride to catch up.

If I call out, she'll trip and probably hurt herself.

She's already limping, fucking up her leg more than it already is. My blood is boiling hot and thick through my veins. The pads of my fingers and palm want to wrap around her throat and throttle her.

Fuck, if she was five minutes faster, the pizza guy could've given her a ride.

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