Page 57 of Protected By the Grumpy Single Dad
“Asher—”
“This isn’t up for debate. You’re going to see your mom, and I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t you have work?”
“It’ll wait.”
“Asher, I really don’t think—”
“I’m not letting you go out alone. I’m coming with you. Please don’t argue.”
Silence. I can almost hear the gears in her head turn.
“Fine,” she says at last, resignation softening into relief. “Fine, you can come with me.”
Chapter eighteen
Jasmine
I feel myself becoming weightless, the harsh wind of gravity pushing across my hair and body as I plummet rather fashionably into the ground.
My body hits the earth with a loud crash and the impact rattles my internal organs. A dull ache swallows every joint as I push up, wiping sweat and grime off my face. I look around and feel the reality of my situation sink deeper. I’m no longer surrounded by tall trees and thick bushes. Now it’s a giant stretch of land with nothing to see for miles and miles.
And miles.
I look up to the edge of the cliff above me—the one I fell from—and wait to see if I can spot what’s been running behind me. Running after me.
I don’t see anything. Not the usual blob of fur that has always terrified me to my core. I don’t hear anything either, and a wave of relief slides down my body. I’ve been running for so long. Maybe it’s time to stop running. Maybe it’s time to finallytake in the world around me and embrace the beauty in the quiet. Rocky plains stretch out to the horizon. It is quiet. Plainly quiet. The quiet starts to make me uncomfortable.
Not for long.
The sound I’ve been dreading for what feels like my entire life splits the air and I feel the blood in my veins run cold.
“He’s here.”
I look up to the edge of the cliff and see it. A bear. The biggest bear I’ve ever seen. Its heavy footsteps rattle the edge, causing stones to break off and tumble just like I did. I can see its face clearly for the first time. It isn’t a bear’s face. For a moment I can’t make it out. Then I do, and my blood goes colder.
I know the face.
It’s Harold.
Harold Swanson.
“Hey!” a familiar voice echoes across the plain. “Hey!”
“Hey.” Asher’s voice seeps into my sleep and my eyes flutter open. He’s standing over me, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, peeling myself upright. I’m drenched in sweat, and my heart is sprinting like it wants to vault out of my chest. I rub my eyes and sit up carefully. The wall clock above the TV reads 10:41 p.m. Too early for nightmares.
Especially ones about Harold Freaking Swanson.
“What’s going on, Jasmine?” he asks again.
Oh, it’s nothing. Just the usual: a giant grizzly bear with Harold’s face chasing me across a confusing hemisphere while a disembodied echo shouts at me from nowhere.
“Nothing. I’m just stressed,” I say instead, and even I can hear the insincerity.
“You can’t let Harold occupy your thoughts all the time,” Asher says, shifting a little closer on the couch. “The last thing you should give that man is power when he isn’t even in the room.”
