Page 88 of Hollyhocks

I yawn, realizing how exhausted I am. I only woke up from my slumber because I sensed Fitz was in trouble. I think it’s a way my body completes the pregnancy. I’m not sure. I’ve never gone through this before.

“Yeah, I’ll take you up on that. Unless you need my help?”

“No way would I ever let these beautiful purple hands get oil on them. That’s my job, Wildflower. Don’t get out of the van,” he warns, stepping out only to walk around the front to open my door.

He stretches out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

When I stand, I sway, another wave of pure exhaustion hitting me as if I’m drugged.

“Woah, I got you, okay?” He swings me into his arms, carrying me across the floor.

My head nestles on his chest, and I allow my eyes to close. His heartbeat is comforting. I want to live and die in these arms.

As he walks, I smile with confidence because there is still a hint of me marking my territory. I put my ink everywhere. In the oil and grease containers. I’ve swiped it on all the walls, under desks and chairs, the equipment, the bathrooms, and the fence lining their property.

His friends will smell me forever and something about that has me giddy.

The scent isn’t as strong as I’d like it to be but that’s okay. Fitz is mine. As long as he smells like me, it’s fine. I’m happy.

He opens the office door, revealing a long stretch of hallway with bright lighting. There are a few pictures on the wall and I’m able to peek at them as we walk by. A human version of his friend Rhett is in one photo, and I have to say, being a monster suits him better. He has long blonde hair and a big award-winning smile while standing next to Fitz in front of another shop.

There’s a story there that I want to know about.

When we get to the backroom, there’s a couch lining the wall and a full-size bed on the other side. A few boxes are stacked to the side but other than that, it’s clean. It doesn’t smell like Fitz.

Luckily, I have his shirt on so I’ll be able to fall asleep.

He yanks the covers back and lies me down, covering me up and tucking me in just like he said he would.

“Sleep well, Wildflower. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go, okay?” He continues to brush my hair with his fingers.

“Mmhmm,” I hum, already falling asleep when my head hits the pillow.

I barely feel the phantom of his kiss or hear the hinges of the door squeak when Fitz leaves.

The vision I saw of four men confronting my mate returns, leaving me restless and worried. Predictions don’t always have to come to fruition. The future can change. One vision doesn’t determine his death.

I turn to my side more anxious now.

He’ll be okay. I’m here. As long as I’m here, he will be safe. I’m worrying for nothing.

I take a few deep breaths, relaxing in the darkness of the room. They must have blackout curtains in here because I can’t see my fingers, and I’m wiggling them in front of my face.

My eyes finally close and exhaustion takes me under.

I don’t know how long I’m asleep for but a loud gunshot yanks me from my sleep, stealing all the air from my lungs.

Blood is in the air.

And some of it belongs to Fitz.

(While Holly is napping)

Leaving her in the bedroom alone aches more than I thought it would. I want nothing more than to slide in next to her, wrap my arms around her, pull her close, and nestle my face in the silk of her wings.

I stop at the desk, staring at the mess Rhett left. Papers are scattered everywhere. I can’t even see the keyboard to the computer.

“Wild, Rhett. You know better,” I tsk, gathering the papers to look for the order book he needed. “I can’t find shit in this mess. This is why I need to oversee the desk. How does he work like this?” I grumble, finally finding the book.