Page 22 of Protected By the Gargoyle
The next morning, Janie went to her physical therapy appointment before her afternoon shift at work. Although she didn’t need to go as often as she did when recovering from the bomb blasts, her legs were not the same as before the incident. She still had stiffness and pain. Shrapnel in her legs contributed to that, so she had to continue to work on her exercises and not overdo it.
The following evening, she went to visit her parents in the suburbs of Boston. She played with the family dog, Monty, a lovable, goofball retriever mix.
“I miss you, Monty. I wish you could come and live with me.”
As she rubbed under his chin, Monty wagged his tail.
“I know, you’re happier here,” she added. “You have more room and a backyard, and you have all your favorite spots. Besides, Mom and Dad would miss you.”
She wished she could have animals in her apartment. Her landlord didn’t allow them in her current place. Boston rentals were expensive, and those that allowed pets could be hard to find. When her lease ran out, she’d look for a rental that allowed it.
“What’s new in your life?” her mother asked.
Janie bit her lower lip as she went over the events of recent days in her head. No, she wouldn’t burden them with that worry. They’d already been devastated by a scaled-down version of what had happened to her. “Nothing much. The same as usual.”
“I made a spinach, mushroom, and bacon flatbread,” her father declared with pride. “And butternut squash soup.”
He was the one who usually cooked in her parents’ household. Her mother didn’t mind heating up frozen dinners but didn’t enjoy preparing meals the way her father did.
“It smells delicious.” She inhaled and then rubbed her belly. “One of my favorite parts of this time of year is cozying up with a hot bowl of soup.”
Dinner was as delicious as it smelled. When she returned home that night, she was ready to unwind with a hot bath. She turned on the water, poured a glass of wine, and grabbed a paperback—a light romantic comedy. After piling her hair on top of her head, she undressed and settled into the bathtub. Ah, relaxing.
She remained there until the water started to cool. As soon as she finished her chapter, she’d climb out.
With a few pages left, there was an urgent knock on her front door, followed by the bell ringing.
“Janie, it’s me.” It was Arto.
She straightened abruptly, jostling some of the water out of the tub. “Coming!” she called.
After rushing out, she quickly dried off and threw her robe on. She hurried to the front door and ensured it was him before she opened. His expression appeared torn.
She opened the door. “What is it?”
He entered, closed the door, and locked it. “You need to come with me. It’s not safe here.”
She crossed her arms around herself. “Why not?”
“Because I detected a demon right outside your front door.”
CHAPTER6
ARTO
Janie stood before Arto wearing a plush bathrobe that reached her mid thighs. Strands of wet hair that had fallen from her bun stuck to her skin, supple and pink from her bath. He avoided lowering his gaze to see the creamy expanse of her legs, especially in such a dire situation. Besides, he knew she was self-conscious about the scars on her lower legs and didn’t want to bring attention to them. They didn’t bother him one bit. She was beautiful—didn’t she know that? If anything, those marks were a reminder of what she survived, solidifying his instincts to care for her.
Forever, if she’d let him.
“What do you mean?” Her head shook from side to side in rapid succession and then stopped abruptly. “It can’t be.”
She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, a gesture she’d done more often since the near summoning of a demon. It should be his arms around her, holding her, comforting her. Instead, he had to tell her news that would rock her to her core.
“I can tell you more on the way. But please, listen to me. You shouldn’t stay here. You need to come with me.”
Janie’s phone rang. She stepped over to the coffee table and picked it up and stared at the screen. “It’s Larissa.”
After Janie answered the call, she asked, “Do you know what’s going on?” A pause. “Can it be a false alert?” Her voice jolted at the end. Another pause. “I know.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Yes, Arto’s here. I’ll go with him and meet you there.”
