Page 13 of The Hitman
“I think that’ll do it,” I say, admiring our handiwork. “What say ye, King Leo?”
He rubs his chin. “I say… it’s missing something.”
After jumping across his bare mattress—the only part of the room not blocked by our castle—he returns with an enormous stuffed dragon.
“We’ll need Chancy to keep guard for us,” he explains after positioning our scaly friend at the main opening. “Every castle has a big, scary dragon to defend it.”
I wind my arm around his shoulders, and nod at the fluffy stuffed reptile with hearts where its eyes should be and its tongue hanging out of one side of its mouth. “A valiant guard, indeed.”
“On your knee, Lady Finley, so you may officially be knighted,” Leo booms in his kingly tone.
With a fist over my heart, I struggle to keep my serious, knightly composure. He’s just so cute, staring down the length of his foam sword at me.
My knee hits the rug, and I bow my head as the tip of the sword graces each shoulder.
“As king of the great Blanketopia, I hereby dub thee, Callie, the bravest and least cringey knight in all the land.”
“It’s an honor to serve you, my king.”
Our fit of giggles is swiftly interrupted by a shadow shifting at the doorway. Seconds later, the dark presence appears as my tight-lipped, stormy-eyed boss.
My spine straightens when we lock eyes.
How long had he been standing there, watching?
“We’re in trouble,” I mutter to Leo.
His eyes bulge when he hears his uncle say, “What exactly are you two doing in here?”
“Hey, Uncle Jax.” Leo greets him with all the enthusiasm of a king reuniting with an old friend. He winds his arms around Jaxon’s waist, and almost comically, the man whose very presence rattles the room, freezes where he stands.
I expect him to relax into Leo’s hug. To let those impenetrable glass walls of his crack for just a moment to meet his nephew where he needs him the most. But his frown deepens, and his haunted expression gives me a sinking suspicion that something is very, very wrong.
He gently pulls away from Leo, sizing up our attire. “Pink blow-up crowns and bedsheet capes.”
I curtsy. “The finest finery in all the realm.”
Leo snort-laughs while Jaxon approaches our make-shift kingdom. He glances around at the sweeping sheets and pilfered household items holding them up. “What is all of this?”
At his obvious displeasure, I remove my crown and smooth my staticky hair. I point to the banner we made from popsicle sticks and construction paper. “This is Blanketopia.”
“I see.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be so angry. We were just?—”
“Slacking off,” he cuts in. “Again.”
I’m taken aback by his sharp tone. Over the last week, I’ve learned that Jaxon’s default setting is cool detachment. He’s stern when he speaks, blunt when he makes a request, and the few glimpses of a smile I got the day I arrived have yet to resurface.
But he’s never outright rude. Not like this.
“It’s not Callie’s fault, honest.” Sweet Leo, coming to my defense. “I’m the one who wanted to build a fort.”
“Yes, and by dirtying up all these sheets, you’ve successfully made more work for the cleaning staff.”
Leo’s shoulders droop, but still, he reaches for a connection. “We were just trying to beat Wreck It Ryan’s record. He’s a YouTuber who builds all kinds of awesome forts. I could show you some of them, and then you’ll see.”
Jaxon raises a hand to silence him, tense with exhaustion when he speaks, “Go get cleaned up and ready for dinner, please.”
