Page 8 of Redeeming Rabbit

Elenore

You still safe?

Ifired off the text message to Tina, keeping one eye on my cell screen, anxiously awaiting her response as I exited my apartment building. It was early Monday morning, and I was exhausted and inexplicably keyed up. An odd combination that made me want to crawl back into bed even though I’d never be able to fall back to sleep. After yesterday’s bizarre interaction with Rabbit, I’d showered, dressed, and gone to the lab to log test results. With one inconclusive test and another inconsistent with previous data, I’d restarted the entire set. I’d stayed way too late, and it was well past midnight by the time I crawled into bed. And then I’d stared at my ceiling for hours, worrying about Tina and Dylan. Now, my stomach felt queasy, and my eyes stung.

The dreary Seattle sky did not improve my mood, but I had responsibilities to fulfill and bills to pay, so I flipped up the hood of my waterproof peacoat and slid from one building awning to the next. When I’d first moved to the rainy city, I’d found it odd that nobody used umbrellas. I’d assumed it was some silly show of pride to distinguish the locals from the tourists. Now, I knew better. The frequent yet unpredictable nature of the rain meant an umbrella would have to be carried at all times, only to be opened sporadically. It was hardly worth the trouble.

I glanced at my phone again. The text to Tina remained unread, which increased my apprehension and made me want to scream with frustration. What if something had happened to them? Would Tap notify me? And what if Tina never answered her phone? I didn’t know where they were staying and, therefore, couldn’t send the police to do a welfare check. I hadn’t even gotten Kaos’s real name.

Relax. It’s still early. They’re probably sleeping.

And I needed to trust in the biker equivalent of protective custody to keep them safe. There was no need to worry. Not yet, anyway. Wrapping my fingers around the Taser in my pocket, I tried to dismiss the icy fingers of unease raking up my spine. With my phone in one hand and the Taser in the other, I likely embodied the spirit of paranoia, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something disastrous was about to go down. No matter how frequently I reminded myself there was no scientific evidence to support precognition, and if it were an actual phenomenon, surely my sister-senses would have kicked in before now. Where was this reaction the many times Tina was getting the snot beat out of her?

Still no response from my sister. Pocketing my cell phone and releasing my hold on the Taser, I hopped the two remaining awnings before ducking into my favorite local coffee shop. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and roasted beans enveloped me in familiarity, lifting my mood and filling me with hope that I could, in fact, make this day my bitch after all. Eager for my fix, I took my place in the back of the line and waited, drooling over a glass-covered plate of brownies.

A moment on the lips, forever on the hips,a feminine voice taunted from the back of my mind.

Another pearl of wisdom from Aunt Victoria. As a child, I’d been overweight, a condition that only worsened after my mother’s death. Aunt Victoria had been disgusted by my weight and determined to help me slim down so I could fulfill what she doubtlessly saw as every woman’s sole purpose: landing a good husband. But her passive-aggressive jabs at my weight and eating habits had helped me lose weight. And today, like every day, they kept me from ordering a brownie.

The door chimed, announcing the arrival of a new customer. I automatically curled my hand around the Taser in my pocket and turned. The newcomer wasn’t someone I recognized, so I released the weapon, pulled my phone out, and checked for messages again. Still no response from Tina.

The barista called out a name as my phone finally pinged. Shuffling forward with the line, I read my sister’s message.

T

We are safe. Getting the boy ready for school.

She’d given her phone to Tap in case Matt tried to use it to find her and was using a loaner from the bikers. Assuming she’d eventually get her phone back, I hadn’t bothered to enter more than her first initial into the contact information. Regardless, the response flooded me with relief.

The door chimed, and like before, my heart rate kicked up as I turned and looked, still feeling like a paranoid idiot. Another stranger, a woman this time. She slid into the back of the line and focused on her cell phone. The line lurched forward again, and the barista called out another name as I responded to my sister.

Update me when you have time.

Kk. Will message later.

My fingers hovered over the keys briefly before typing out one more message.

Love you.

Tina and I had never been super affectionate, not even after Mom died. But this shit with Matt had frightened both of us, and we’d been closing out our correspondence more frequently than not with those two words. And even though my sister loved me, typing the phrase first still made me feel vulnerable. Like revealing the open wounds my childhood had left behind and begging her not to salt them. Most of me knew she would never compound my damage, but people were flawed creatures, and trust was a complicated emotion. There was a reason I kept almost everyone at arm’s length.

T

Love you, too. Have a good day!

“Good morning. What can I get for you?” someone asked.

Lowering my phone to give the barista my full attention, I ordered a simple oat milk latte and cast one last longing look at the brownies before paying and sliding away from the crowd to wait.

The door chimed again. I glanced up and froze as a familiar figure stepped inside and shook his head, flinging water droplets as he wiped his loafers on the mat. It had been at least two years since I’d seen him in person, which, in hindsight, should have set off all kinds of alarms. He’d skipped Dylan’s past two birthdays, and they spent holidays with his parents. I’d never been invited to join them. Not like I would have gone. Matt Parker had always had an entitled frat boy vibe that did not make me eager to spend time with the uppity breeders responsible for his existence. Now, I wish I had exchanged numbers with them at the wedding. I’d call and rip into them for raising such an egotistical miscreant.

Regardless, I’d recognize Matt anywhere. His sharp, blue-eyed gaze scanned the crowd before slamming into mine. The smile stretching across his face had to be fake, but it looked convincing. Like he’d just recognized an old friend. Ignoring the line, he headed straight for me. Dressed for an average day at the office, he wore an open wool coat over a crisp gray button-up and black slacks. Professionally styled short blond hair and a crater-sized dimple in his right cheek made him look harmless and almost sweet. A real guy-next-door, he had no horns, tail, or anything else to expose him as the demon he was. There should have at least been an evil gleam in his eyes, but no. He looked normal. As he approached, his smile widened, revealing straight, white teeth.

“Elenore.” His tone was friendly as he opened his arms.

It took me a moment to realize he intended to hug me.

My sister’s abuser.

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