Page 13 of The Book of Wrath

“Is his brother the same way? Will someone be there with you when he arrives?” Max listed off question after question like he was questioning a witness. I can’t blame him; he doesn’t know Alan.

“Alan isn’t anything like Ryan, or the rest of the damn family. He’s the only one I got along with. Enough about me. How was your day?” I chimed off into the phone, done talking about myself for the time being.

“It was,” he paused and took a deep sighing breath, “not that great.” The silence on the other end of the phone was suffocating. He had a heaviness to his voice. One I haven’t heard there in the short time I’ve known him.

“What happened?” I questioned, trying not to sound intense or demanding. “Did something big happen at a call?” He chuckled a humorless laugh.

“Not at a call that I was on, more like a call I had to make,” alarms rang off in my head. What could be so bad that had him calling 9-1-1?!

“What do you mean a call you had to make?” The nerves in my voice were bad.

“I came home to some bullshit with Sandra. She’s not supposed to be here, and she just let herself in, against an order by our captain by the way,” he let out a long breath. I tried to give him a second before I pester him with more questioning. I try to think about who Sandra is again or if he even talked about her before.

“Who?” I asked before a loud bang came at my front door. I jumped a little, I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight.

“Megan?” Max’s voice coaxed me back to our call. “Are you expecting anyone?” I put him on speaker phone and pulled up the front door camera. Whoever this was they were covering the front camera so I couldn’t see who was there.

“No, I can’t see who it is on the camera either,” I whimpered out. Fear locked me to the floor. I didn’t want to move. Another bang sound came from the front door again. No one was speaking.

“Megan, leave your lights on and either go upstairs or go downstairs quietly. Do not answer the door. Stay on the line with me and I’ll come over,” Max pushed out the orders like I was someone under his command. He was not someone I would want to disappointment. I decide going upstairs was the easiest. My office pointed to the front of the house so I could look out down at the front door. “Keep the lights off.”

“I’m upstairs in my office. Ryan broke the lamp in here, so I have no lighting at all, so no worries there,” I awkwardly chuckle out. I peek out of the blinds, trying to look down at the front door.

“Good, I’m on my way. You’ll hear my car coming first. I should be able to see if anyone runs,” he says into the phone. I try to catch my breath as I look out the window, still unable to make out who the figure at the front door is. There’s no car in the driveway except for mine. Whoever this is, they walked here or got dropped off.

I could hear the hellcat’s tires screeching around the corner down the street. Max wasn’t kidding that I would hear the car first. He pulled up right in front of the house and I watch the figure take off around the back of my house. I run across the hallway to try to watch the figure run towards a car on the street where Ryan lives. Whoever this was, they were familiar with the neighborhoods layout.

I watched another figure run through the grass filled alley way behind the house. I think that might be Max from the way he runs as if he is hunting down some peeping Tom. A car peeled wheels down the street on Max’s side of the neighborhood. I didn’t realize that Max wasn’t on the other end of the call anymore. The silence was eerie, I watched the second figure that I am assuming, hoping, is Max. It made its way around the house; I walked into the hallway and took a deep breath. I am going to die in this house.

“Are you still there?” Max whispers into the phone, well more like pants into the phone because of the late-night workout.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” I croak into the phone, “Are you okay?” I started to head down the stairs to head back to the living room.

“I’m at the front door, you can check your camera before coming to the door so you’re more comfortable with opening it,” he said as I did just that. I checked the camera and saw his chestnut brown hair and that jawline that looked as if it could cut glass. I made my way to the door and unclicked the lock.

I pulled open the door, taking in the tall, amazingly sculpted physique in front of me. If I didn’t just have my life upended by a fucking psycho, I would climb him like a fucking book ladder and sit on that gorgeous face. Fuck, Megan! Stop drinking in this man!

“Come on in,” I sheepishly say as I move out of his way, locking the door as he makes his way up the main stairs. He stops short at the top step, looking down at me. “Go ahead and have a seat. I can get you something to drink if you want. I don’t have much aside from water and some homemade sweet tea which is more sweet than tea.” I rambled off to him as I headed for the kitchen. I could feel his gaze burning into my ass. I may be a little on the thick side, but I do my squats so at least the view he has is nice.

“I’ll try your tea. It can’t be any stronger than my grandmothers. Six cups of sugar for six tea bags. I try telling her that her tea will give anyone diabetes, but she just shushes me and hands me a large glass,” he says as he follows me into the kitchen.

“She sounds like someone I could get along with. It’s called sweet tea for a reason Max. If it’s not super sweet, then it’s not sweet tea,” I giggle as I grab two glasses from the cabinet. He watches my movements like a predator watching its prey, I can feel his gaze drift over my body. I don’t think I want to see the look on his face right now.

“Do you have any idea who that was?” He questioned me, not accusing me of anything. He took a seat at the bar; I watched him through my peripherals as I continued to get our tea together. If he could handle six cups of sugar with his grandmother, he could handle the four cups I put in my pitcher.

“I think it was Ryan. The person knew how to hide from all the cameras. I have one on the side of the house and another one over the garage,” I said, placing the glass on the table in front of him.

“Thank you,” he replied before sniffing the drink like it was poisoned. He must’ve decided that it was safe to drink, until he took a sip. The sweetness might just be too much for this man. It was cute watching his face wrinkle from the sugar overload.

“I take it, that it’s too much for you?” I giggled out, drinking deeply from my own cup. It was sweet, but I thought it was perfect.

“It’s diabetes in a cup. My grandmother would love your version,” he chuckled out and set the cup back down in front of him. “Anyway, are you okay?” He looked at me.

“I’m not the one who looks like they’re about to go to war with several different people at once. I’m physically okay, mentally I am fucking torn apart and emotionally, I’ve been better. What about you? Are you okay?” I asked him, taking the other seat at the bar. There were only two bar stools that I refurbished last summer from the thrift store.

He let out a deep sigh and slugged down more of the tea, which shocked me to be honest. I thought the one sip was enough to knock him on his ass from the sugar rush. “Do you remember officer McKane? She was the one who came in the hospital room, informing you of Ryan’s bail,” I nodded, I remembered the bitch. The way she talked to him set my skin on fire. “She is my ex.” He paused again, sighing.

“I take it she’s the worst?” I tried to lighten the mood some, that tension in the air felt so thick I could probably cut it like it was a piece of cake.

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