Page 46 of Muzzled

Charlotte, looking up from the chasm.

Bo’s teeth sinking into the flesh of a deformed calf muscle.

Alex’s hind leg caught under the boulder.

His own jaw snapping down on the neck of their quarry.

The most recent book had taken yet another turn, page after page completely blacked out, save for the outline of a face becoming more detailed and more familiar on every page. Tiny flecks of lead sprinkled from the sketchpad as he lifted it for closer examination, blinking to refocus his eyes on the features he’d memorized thirty years earlier.

Daniel Elijah Ringer.

Eli.

Closing the books, he piled them into a neat stack and returned them to their place beside her bed before looking out the small window into the darkness and wondering how in the hell Micah fit in to everything.

Chapter Seventeen

Micah waited expectantlyfor Ryan to respond, poking at his arm to get his attention when he continued to stare across the street. “Hey,” she prodded, scooting the cheap plastic chair closer to him. “You are seriously zoning out. You sure you’re okay?”

He blinked rapidly for a moment and looked down at his cooling coffee. “Apparently caffeine isn’t doing the trick today,” he muttered, eying the table next to them. “I should’ve ordered the hot wings.”

Looking down at the two plates of fries and steaks he’d already devoured, she shrugged. “I think at this point you’re actually hitting food-coma territory. Get the wings next time.” As he straightened up in his chair, she grabbed his hand. “You didn’t need to stand guard all night. It doesn’t come around when you’re there.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he mumbled, adjusting his sunglasses. “You said you have a half-sister. Did your mom ever mention if your dad had any other children? Maybe a half-brother?”

She shook her head, ignoring the lump in her throat forming over the mention of the man she’d never met. “Nothing. I think if he had, my mother would’ve let me know.” She gave him a flat glare. “Let me know so she could inform me how much I didn’t measure up and how cursed she was to have the lesser kid.”

His face hardened. “It’s probably not my place to say it, but your mother’s on par with Seph in a lot of ways. And Seph…I’m beginning to see just how manipulative she really is.” He turned his attention back to the rooftops across the street. “But they kind of suck you into it, don’t they?”

“You mean the way they can make you feel you’re completely responsible for making them happy while simultaneously letting you know you’re not good enough to do it?” she scoffed. She took a sip of water and set her wallet on the table. “It’s a sick game. I have a lot of practice playing it, but I think you have more.”

He side-eyed her, giving her a wry smile. “Pushing away with one hand, pulling you in with the other? Yeah, I think I’ve got a few thousand years on you.” With a grunt, he nudged her wallet aside and set his on top. “Business expense, remember?”

Raising her hands in concession, she sat quietly while he paid the tab, watching as his fingers flexed and fisted in a rhythmic motion over and over until he signed off on the bill.

He’d been on edge all morning, standing motionless at her window when she woke, completely unaware he had conscious company until she was out of bed and standing beside him. She had heard him pacing the floor while she showered and got ready for her day, the steady beat only interrupted long enough for him to turn and walk the other way.

His eyes had frequently flicked to her stack of sketchbooks, the perfection of the stacked pile letting her know he’d gone through them.

They had probably freaked him out as much as they freaked her out.

He polished off the last of his coffee as he stood, then held out his hand to her. “If you don’t mind, I think we should head back to my place. I need to touch base with my brothers, and we need to figure out a way to draw the shade out when I’m around.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, giving his fingers a light squeeze. “Are we okay to hit the art store later, though? I need to start gearing up for the next event and I depleted my pastel stash on Logan’s portrait lessons.”

He nodded absently, playing with his car keys as they hit the sidewalk. “We can do that first,” he said while he opened the passenger door for her and walked around the car. “I’ll make the calls now and put them on speaker. You should probably be in on this.”

He eased onto the road, his thumb tapping his phone until the ringing blasted through the car stereo, cut short by a male voice on the other end.

“Hey, fuckclown, what’s up?”

Ryan’s features relaxed a fraction. “A lot. Bo, you’re on speaker, okay? I have someone with me. Micah Wheaton. Say hi, and don’t be a dick.”

“Micah?” Bo called out. “That sounds fami… How’s it going, man?”

She smirked. “It’s going. Hi, Bo.”

“Ahhhh, that’s not a guy, is it?” came the slow realization. “Ryan?”

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