Page 5 of After the Fall

Maybe he was.

I should’ve been scared, but once the shock at seeing him had worn off, it was like the years had melted away and I was thirteen again, when he’d first disappeared. Underneath hisgrotesque appearance, he was stillmy dad. I could feel it, even if they couldn’t.

Wyatt walked me to the front door, his arm tight around my waist, as if he were afraid that I would change my mind. But I was freezing, and the warmth of the fire was beckoning me, as I put one foot in front of the other.

“I’ll stand guard, Boss.” Atticus hadn’t moved from his spot on the porch.

It felt strange to hear the word boss coming from someone who had been in charge just last week. But if there was any tension or resentment between the two sasquatches, they hid it well.

Wyatt nodded to Atticus, then walked me to the living room. He paused just outside the French doors. “Maybe this isn’t the best place…”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” And it was the truth. The grief had already left my body, replaced by a new feeling of numbness.

The fire was still going strong, warming the large room. I sat in the same velvet wingback chair as my dad. The rope they had used to tie him lay discarded next to me on the Persian rug.

Wyatt frowned. “These socks need to go.” He kneeled before me and removed them, one at a time. If I didn’t feel so emotionless, I would have found it romantic. He gave my foot a firm squeeze and then picked up the rope. “I’ll be back with something warmer.”

Alone with my thoughts, my head swiveled to the antique grandfather clock in the corner. Had it only been ten minutes since my whole life had changed? I absentmindedly rubbed the soft hunter green fabric as I tried to think about anything other than my father.

A low cough came from the butler’s entrance, and I swiveled around. A tall woman stood in the doorway holding a mug,grinning sheepishly. “Sorry to bother you. I, uh, thought you might like something warm.”

Her kindness surprised me. “Thank you. That sounds nice.”

She set the mug on the small marble side table. “Don’t worry. It’s moss-free.” She winked.

“Well, that’s good. Wyatt warned me that it tastes awful.”

The woman shuffled back and forth on her feet. She seemed nervous, so I decided to be brave and take the first step. “I’m Harper. Though I guess you already know that.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Yeah,” she said. “Sorry for not introducing myself that day in the park. And for, uh, shadowing you. I was just following orders.” She shrugged.

I grinned to show that it was okay, that I understood. “I’m sure it can’t be easy to have to follow Wyatt’s orders,” I joked.

Her loud guffaw surprised me. Her hand quickly flew to her mouth to stifle it. “I’m Fiona,” she said with a smile. She reached out her hand, which I accepted, my own hand feeling tiny and insignificant in her large, firm grip.

The front door opened, and Atticus’s voice boomed through the mansion, “Tank’s back.”

Fiona yanked her hand away and shoved it in the pocket of her sweater. “I better go,” she whispered, scurrying back the way she’d come, just as Wyatt returned with a pair of sheepskin slippers. He slipped them onto my feet. The fur lining instantly warmed my bare skin.

His brow raised as he noticed the mug in my hand. “How…”

“Fiona,” I smiled.

He looked to the open butler’s door and I thought I saw the hint of a smile, before he turned his attention back to the commotion in the hallway.

Through the open French doors, I could see that Tank and the Danes had returned.

“Go home,” Tank ordered. The dogs bounded past the living room, their feet like heavy thunder along the hardwood flooring, as they rushed through the dog door to the backyard.

The tension in the mansion was palpable. Tank’s facial expression didn’t give anything away and I held my breath as Wyatt joined him in the hall.

“Any luck?” Wyatt said.

“No. That fucker is—”

“Tank,” Wyatt warned, glancing at me over his shoulder.

Tank’s annoyed sigh reverberated through the quiet mansion. “Fine. Thatcreatureis good at disappearing. The Danes couldn’t pick up any scent or trace of him. Anywhere.”

---