Page 45 of Wolf Tormented
Cans are stacked on top of cans. It’s no wonder the thing was so heavy. I grab an armful of them and stroll back to the canned section. Something rolls beneath my foot and I stumble, dropping the cans with a crash.
“Jara,” Angela shouts from the front and races to me.
“I’m okay. I just tripped over something.” I crouch and reach for the offending object.
“What is that?” Angela asks, and I hand the bolt to her.
“What’s it doing down here?” I ask.
“All the shelves are bolted to the ground. This one snapped.” She holds the bolt up to the light.
“How did it snap?” I stare at the small bolt between Angela’s fingers.
“I don’t know.” She drops the bolt into her pocket and crouches in front of the shelf.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure that nothing is about to topple on our heads,” she mutters.
I stare at the shelf, and my stomach drops as dread fills me. How did that bolt just snap? Did someone really tamper with the shelf?
Archer may not be as paranoid as I thought. “Are the bolts there?”
“Yeah, I think McKenna fixed it when she cleaned up the mess. She just missed a bolt.” Angela stands, grabbing a few cans as she does.
“So, nothing’s going to fall on my head?” I laugh.
I have to laugh or I’m going to cry again.
“Not today.” Angela stacks the cans on the shelf and moves to grab more.
They’re all dented now. It’s going to be hell on my anxiety, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
I stroll back to the front and grab more cans before trudging back to the shelf. The repetitive motions and keeping busy help to ease my mind.
When all the cans are stacked on the shelves, I grab the cutter and sit in front of another box to open that one and start unpacking.
A door upstairs slams, and I flinch. The woodsy scent of my mate hits my nose, but he doesn’t come down the stairs.
So much for getting my mind off Archer and the disaster that is my life. He’s never far from my mind.
Another door slams toward the back of the house. He must be in his office because I don’t think that even my wolf hearing could pick up the door to our bedroom slamming.
“Has anyone heard when Grayson’s going to release my parents?” I ask.
“No, he won’t tell us anything,” Angela says with a sigh.
“I just think this would all be a little more bearable if my parents were here.”
Would it, though? My mom has been very outspoken about not wanting me with the alpha. She would probably lash out at him any chance she got.
Could she be the reason they aren’t here yet?
Angela pats my shoulder. “I don’t know, Jara.”
“Yeah, that was wishful thinking. My mom probably would have gotten locked in a cell months ago for talking back to him.” I shrug, then stare at the top of the stairs, wishing for things that aren’t possible.
Does Archer even care that he hurt me so bad with his cruel words?
