Page 74 of Flock This

I hadn’t worked out recently, but I should have been able to remove the lid anyway. It shouldn’t have been that difficult.

A symbol sat on the top, one I didn’t recognize.

Roger reached past me and followed it with his finger, touching it gently as if it were sacred.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s my name.”

“I might not have gone to college, but I’m not illiterate. What language is that?”

“Vampires and thralls all have a symbol for their name. It’s created when they’re made, written in an old language, and given to them by the vampire who created them. Think of it like a signature. That’s the one William gave me when he made me his thrall.”

“So this is for you?”

“I don’t know. He never mentioned it to me. The wood’s old, though, so it suggests he’s owned it for a very long time.”

I placed it in his lap when he seemed uncertain about taking it. He stared down at it, a hesitation in his actions. Then again, it was like a final letter from one’s late spouse. It had to be terrifying to hear the last thing a person wanted to say, like a final goodbye.

Especially because what if it was bad? I could just imagine the last thing some of the people in my life would want to tell me—“you were always an asshole and I’m thankful I never have to put up with your bullshit again.”

His hand trembled as he touched the box, then tried to open the lid just as I had.

Still nothing.

It didn’t budge no matter how he pulled at it. After a moment, he let out a long sigh. “The bastard always liked to make things difficult. This feels like a final joke from him.” He rolled so instead of crouching, he sat his ass on the floor, his back against the bed, the box in his lap. He let out a strained laugh. “You know, I wouldn’t put it past him to have nothing in here, for him to expect me to toy with it until I finally figured it out only to find nothing inside. I swear, he’s probably sitting back and laughing from wherever he is, watching as I struggle with it.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he knew that boredom is the quickest path to the grave. He probably didn’t want me to sit here and stew for the time I had left, so he thought a puzzle would keep me occupied.” Roger rested his head back against the mattress and closed his eyes. “He knew this was coming, enough to make a box for me but he couldn’t have said anything to me? So many years together and he still didn’t trust me enough to rely on me or even talk to me. He visited me a few days before he died, and I’d asked if I could come over. He said no, but instead, he took me out. We went to a restaurant and had dinner. It wasn’t that unusual, since we went out often enough, so I didn’t think much about it, other than I thought maybe whatever was keeping him was almost over. I thought maybe things were getting better. Apparently it was a goodbye thing I just didn’t know about.” His voice was soft and full of a pain I didn’t understand, one I didn’t think I’d ever understand.

I had my parents, my family, but otherwise? I’d never had anyone mean anything to me on that level, someone who could inspire that sort of pain in me. I’d always been careful keeping people at a distance, never wanting to risk that sort of hurt.

What would it feel like to have people like that in my life?

I wrapped my arm around Roger’s arm, then leaned my head against his shoulder. No words would help him, especially from someone like me who couldn’t possibly truly understand how he felt. Instead, I offered him the only thing I had—my presence.

Sometimes not feeling alone was the only comfort people could get.

Chapter Eighteen

“You know, men in my dreams are supposed to be naked and hard.”

The man laughed, then brought his fingers to the hem of his black T-shirt. “Well, who am I to deny a young lady’s request?”

I held my hands up, one to cover my eyes and one to wave at him to stop him. “Whoa, buddy. Learn sarcasm, will you?” Even as I did so, I spread two of my fingers to peek through, giving me a look at some very nice-looking abs. This man had always been handsome, but somehow, I’d missed just how good a body he had.

He lowered his shirt and shrugged, as though it didn’t matter to him either way. “How have you been, my Little Crow?”

“Not great, Daddy, not great.”

“Daddy? I’ll play that game if you want.” He winked, making me want to throw my hands up in frustration. It didn’t matter how far I pushed things with him, he kept going until I ended up uncomfortable.

Which was a pretty big skill, all things considered.

He must have seen my surrender, because he smiled widely before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a sucker. He held it out for me like I was a child in need of comfort.

And sure, this might have been a dream, but one look at my ass said I wasn’t the sort of girl to say no to candy. For that reason, I took the sucker, unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth. The rush of sugar did settle my mind, even if I hated to admit it.

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