Chapter Four #2
The house reacts. At first, I tense, worried that something is wrong, but then I realize it’s responding to my acceptance.
Perhaps the house held on to the fear that I was going to up and leave again.
I can’t say I blame it. Trust is a gift that often gets returned in pieces.
You can fix it up until it looks good as new, even give it away again, but the cracks will still be there under the varnish.
Each time it gets broken, fewer pieces are returned, until eventually all that’s left are fragments of hopes and dreams that got lost in the maelstrom.
“What’s that look for?” He stands up straight. I press myself against his chest and look up at him.
“I don’t say this enough, but thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. Even if everything goes up in a fiery blaze, I’ll always remember this. Remember you.”
His hand slides around the back of my head as he pulls me closer. We stand there for a moment, soaking it all in before Riggs pulls away and takes my hand. “Come on. Let’s go check on our guests.”
Dawn and Hannah loved the space we’d created for them.
I swear, Dawn looked on the verge of tears again, but she managed to fight them back for Hannah’s sake.
We get them settled in before returning to the main house, where I help Riggs get a room ready for himself.
He takes the one at the far end of the hall on the same floor as my workshop, but far enough away that I won’t disturb him.
“It’s fucking weird.”
I turn to look at him, placing the T-shirt I just folded onto his bed. “What is? Being in the house, you mean?”
”Yes and no. I feel like I’m supposed to be here, but being all the way in the back like this makes me worry about someone breaking in and getting to you without me noticing, which makes zero fucking sense when usually I’m farther away in the ranch house.
” He tosses his hat on the bed so he can run his fingers through his hair.
“Nobody is getting in without the alarm waking everyone up.” Not to mention, the house would let me know. I tense up thinking about Austin, but I swallow it down, not wanting Riggs to see my fear.
“I know. Something has set me on edge, though. Maybe it’s just everything with Dawn and Hannah.”
“Probably. We both know this won’t be the end of things. But I’ve already called Jen, and she’s going to sort out the legal stuff.”
“Well, with Jen on the case, I almost pity the fool for messing with Dawn.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. I want to kill him myself.”
“Don’t let anyone but me hear you say that. Some people will call that premeditated.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever really cared what people thought about me. Not until you anyway.”
I bat my lashes at him. He grins and stalks toward me, only to stop when my cell rings. I pull it out and check the screen.
“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this.”
He sighs. “Go. I’m gonna take a cold shower and crash. Don’t forget to lock your door.”
I salute him before leaving and close his door, so I don’t say fuck it and climb into the shower with him.
I hit answer on my phone and hold it to my ear as I enter my workshop and close the door. “Hey, David, sorry about that.”
“No worries. So I went over that footage you sent me. Far as I can tell, it wasn’t tampered with. Or if it was, it was way more sophisticated than I’m used to. And not trying to toot my own horn here, Calliope, but I’m good. I’m really good.”
“So if you don’t think it was tampered with, then chances are it wasn’t.”
“Exactly. The problem is that means it has to be a glitch, and that doesn’t sit right with me either. This system is supposed to be better than that.”
“Don’t worry about it. Shit happens.”
“Yeah, no. Shit happens to other people’s systems. Not mine. If you’d gotten hurt because of an error on my end, I’d never forgive myself.”
“David. You can’t take on everything—”
“No. This is my fault. This is what you pay me for, and I fucked up. Can I come out and have a look? I can’t see what’s happening on my end, but maybe if I look in person…
” His voice trails off as I pull out my chair and sit in it.
There is no camera in here, so I don’t have to worry about turning it off.
“Of course you can come. You don’t have to ask.”
“Yeah, about that. My sisters are on a school break.”
“Bring them with you. Word of advice, though, I have house guests. I don’t know if you went back over today’s footage and saw them arrive.”
“Yeah, I saw them. They okay?”
“No. But they will be. Dawn—the woman—is pretty beat up. Hannah took a slap to the face, which is healing faster, thankfully, but still shouldn’t have fucking happened.”
He hisses. “I fucking hate my species sometimes.”
“How’d you know it was a man who did it?”
“Because it’s always a fucking man.” He sighs. And he’s not wrong. I know women can be abusive pieces of shit too, don’t get me wrong, but it’s at the hands of men I’ve suffered the most, and I think that’s the same story for most women.
“Think they’ll mind me and the girls invading?”
“I think it might be nice for Hannah to have someone to play with, to be honest. Though I’ll need to order some things for them to play with. I have no clue what toys girls that age are into.”
“I’ll bring some stuff the girls don’t play with anymore.”
“Thanks, David.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re about to have three young girls under your roof. Might want to invest in some earplugs,” he warns me before hanging up.
I laugh. The guy’s been spending too much time with Jen. I toss my cell phone on my desk before running my fingers through my hair. Today had been a long fucking day, and there are going to be many more like them.
“Keep an eye on them,” I tell the house softly. There’s a gentle, almost finger-like stroke across my face in acknowledgment.
I smile as I look around the room, loving what Riggs created here.
The wooden desk I’m sitting at is a huge worktop that dominates most of the space.
It’s adjustable, so I can sit while I’m working, or stand and raise the desk according to my needs.
The rest of the room is made up of cupboards filled with empty stock, like bottles and baskets waiting to be filled, and shelves that line the wall with items ready to be sent out.
I still keep the soil and pots in the barn, only bringing in what I need, so the room doesn’t get too cluttered to work in. It’s peaceful, light, and airy, and exactly what I needed in a workspace.
I am lucky to have a man like Riggs in my life who seems to be a natural at everything he puts his mind to.
I pull the leather-bound book out of the safe, running my hand over the worn cover, before returning to the chair.
I set it on the worktop and flip it open.
I slowly turn the pages, absorbing the words, thoughts, and incantations from another time.
There are doodles and notes that seem out of place, like random thoughts added at the last minute.
The handwriting changes often as I turn the pages where I find recipes and—
No. Not recipes. Spells.
I trail my fingers down the page, drinking in the information with a voracious thirst. I get a quarter of the way in and notice some pages have been torn out, leaving behind just enough to show me they’re missing, but not enough to tell me why.
I place a dried flower between the pages to act as a bookmark before closing it and taking a deep breath.
A calm has washed over the house, and as I close my eyes, a sense of peace emanates from it.
“It’s the book, isn’t it?”
I don’t get a response, but then I wasn’t expecting one. I thought what I read might give me some answers, and in some ways it has, but mostly it’s left me with a dozen more questions.
I put the book back in the safe and stretch.
My back cracks as if I’ve been hunched over for hours.
A glance at my watch tells me that’s not far from the truth.
I’ve been in here for three hours reading.
I was so absorbed in the book that I lost all sense of time.
Though I can’t say that’s not a regular occurrence.
Books tend to detach me from reality. The house could burn down around me, and I’d be oblivious.