Page 110 of Beautiful Trauma
A shriek came from behind Kellan. “Dere he is!”
“Oh shit,” Kellan muttered.
“What’s going on?”
“The girls found me.”
“Excuse me?”
“My nieces.”
“Oh,” I said with relief.
“Has you been hidin’, Unka K?” a little voice asked.
“I’m sorry, Mo mhuirníns.”
“Should I be jealous you’re calling other women your darling?”
Kellan chuckled. “I’m impressed you remembered that.”
“Can we play princesses now?” another tiny voice asked.
“Well, uh–”
I actually giggled at the situation. “Go on. I don’t want to take you away from them.”
“Are you sure?”
Before I could answer, one of the little voices said, “Ooh, Unka K, is dat your girlfwiend?”
Laughter burst out of me at the mortification on Kellan’s face. “I’ll let you go, but you have to promise to send me a picture of you playing princesses.”
“Mila,” Kellan grunted.
“I mean it.”
“Fine.”
“Bye, Unka K,” I teasingly replied.
“Bye, Mila.”
As I hung up, I held tight to the amusement of Kellan and his nieces and did everything I could to drive away the shadows that hung heavy at Kira’s mention of Father wanting Kellan dead.
But as hard as I tried, anxiety prickled over me like jabs of a knife. Kira gave up on trying to brighten my dark mood and decided to meet up with some friends.
The only thing that remotely helped my mood was the picture that came to my phone about half an hour after I hung up with Kellan.
At the sight of him in a sparkly purple tiara with a matching purple boa draped around his neck, I burst out laughing. I kept laughing so hard that I could barely see the bright pink lipstick or blue eyeshadow.
Still giggling, I typed back
You are the prettiest princess I have ever seen
This photo should be deleted ASAP.
Oh no. This is future blackmail
