Page 83 of Renard's Deliverance

The loud knocking woke her and she sat up in fright, moaning as her back protested the sharp movement. She glanced around to see she was on her own.

How long had Renard stayed in the armchair? Had he gotten any sleep?

Another knock. She moaned as she pulled herself out of bed. She looked out the bedroom door to see Renard standing by the front door.

“What . . . what’s happening?” she asked.

“Some fuckers at the door at nine on a fucking Sunday morning. Must have a fucking death wish.”

Wait. It was nine in the morning?

And she’d just woken up?

Holy. Shit.

She couldn’t believe it.

“Stay there.” He pointed at her.

Shit. Someone was knocking on her door at nine on a Sunday morning.

Three guesses who that would be. Fuck!

Moving back into the bedroom, she grabbed a nightgown. It was red and lacy in all the right places. Not exactly appropriate to wear, but the Grackle had seen her in worse.

She shuffled out of the bedroom door and down the hall. But it wasn’t the Grackle standing on the other side of the door.

It was the sheriff.

Oh, shit.

As she reached them, Renard turned his head, frowning at her. “Opal, told you to wait in the bedroom.”

“This is my house,” she informed him.

“Don’t matter. Might be your house, but I’m the person taking care of you, so if I tell you to stay put, you stay put.”

“I stay put?” she drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did you really say that?”

“Look, as interesting as this is,” Jake said. “It’s Sunday morning and I’d rather be lying in bed with my wife than here. But because we received some complaints, I have to be here with the two of you.”

“What sort of complaints? Was it the Grackle? I haven’t made any noise!” she cried.

“It wasn’t a noise complaint.” Jake studied her, then Renard. “Went to your apartment first to talk to you, couldn’t find you so I came here to speak to Opal.”

“You should have called her guardian first,” Renard told him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You didn’t call Alec, did you?” she asked in alarm right as a big truck pulled up at the curb and out got Alec Malone.

She groaned. This felt a bit like déjà vu. “Jake, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I need to talk to you about something and that the proper process is to let your guardian know.”

“I don’t need a guardian or a spokesperson.”

“Jake,” Alec said darkly as he walked up to where they stood. “Opal. Renard.”

There was no surprise in his voice at Renard being there, but Alec Malone was a hard man to read.

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