Chapter 21
“BOOKS” BY KID SISTR
Little hands wrapped around my fingers as we walked into a bookstore near Blackhawk Academy. It was the only bookstore I knew that had lesser known authors.
“Books?” Estelle wrinkled her nose and tried to turn around, her shriek echoing in the quiet store. “We go Target.”
“Absolutely not. We’re not Target people anymore,” I repeated to her again when that childish scowl appeared.
“Why?” Estelle whined.
“Because Target is dumb.” I picked her up and walked further into the small store, sliding her onto my hip. “We’re going to grab a book real fast for a friend of Mommy’s, and then we’re going to go see our dedushka. Yeah? You want to see Grandpa and get your shots for school?”
Estelle pouted her lip and flickered her eyes around the multiple shelves. I flicked her lip with my finger and chuckled when she whined.
“What? I thought you were learning to read!” I teased, holding under her back and thigh to help carry her more smoothly. “Do you want to pick a book out to take to Aunt Eric’s tomorrow? You can show your friends you read big girl books.”
“Eric no read.” Estelle leaned her head on my shoulder. “It good deal.”
“Yeah?” I chuckled.
“Yeah. I wan’ big book to pway book reader with.” My daughter pointed at a large book on the counter.
The woman at the counter offered us a smile as she picked up the big book the little girl had referred to, placing it out of sight. She was a taller woman with a knitted scarf around her shoulders, her hair pulled up into a bun with the help of two green knitting needles.
“How about your mommy helps you pick out a book that’s big and for ten and under?” she suggested with a kind chuckle.
Estelle whined and hid her head in my neck. I rubbed her back and took a quick glance around as the woman turned her attention back to me.
“How can I help you? Do you need any suggestions?” she asked.
“No, actually, um, I’m picking up a book I ordered online,” I explained. “For Erica Kane.”
“Erica Kane,” the woman repeated, turning back to her computer. “Hm. I’m not seeing one. It’s Cane like C-A?—”
“K-A-N-E,” I corrected.
“Yes, I see it now!” The woman shot me a smile and turned to the register to her left. She grabbed the scanner and ran it over a receipt printing from the machine. “I’ll just need your ID, Erica, and then you’re all good to go.”
“Eric here!” Estelle’s head flew up, and her eyes dashed around. She whined, kicking her feet. “I want go!”
“Shh. Shh,” I whispered, quickly noticing the woman’s raised brows.
I swallowed and watched the woman look through the boxes in the cubbies behind her.
It wasn’t my plan to let anyone know I had ordered this book.
It took some convincing to let Erica let me order a few things for Estelle on her phone while she was in the shower, giving me just enough time to order the book I saw Quinntessa reading the other morning.
“You need my ID for a book?” I asked, a loose laugh escaping me. “Is that regulated now?”
“For books with adult pictures or illustrations, we’re required to check IDs being so close to the academy. Dean’s orders,” she explained. “Do you have your ID on you?”
“Does it have to match who ordered the book?” I asked, setting Estelle down and rolling my eyes when she darted to the box of records. “I’m picking up for a friend, actually.”
“Well, your friend would have to be here with their ID to prove they're over eighteen.”
“I’m over eighteen.”
“But your friend?—”
“Is this book really that bad?” I asked, surprised. “I know someone under eighteen reading it now.”
“Then she didn’t buy it here.” The woman rolled her nails on the counter with her lips pursed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you the book without ID. Is this book for you or your friend?”
“It’s—” I snapped my fingers. “Estelle, do not touch that.”
Estelle whined and dropped the record back down into the box she was looking through. She muttered an incoherent word to me, some sounding more Spanish than English, maybe a few Russian words I knew my mother said frequently.
“It’s for me,” I said, taking out my wallet and pulling out my I.D. “You caught me. I ordered the book under a fake name so no one would now I wanted to read about . . . about . . .”
The woman looked unimpressed with me as she pulled the book from the box with Erica’s name on it and held it up to show me the cover.
“A smut is the plot omegaverse novel?” she finished for me, clearly not as convinced as I hoped.
I blinked. The cover looked like a girl with a bunch of wolves. How was I supposed to know it was a fuck fest? And Quinntessa Dawson was casually reading this like it wasn’t a big deal? Was this book even worth the twenty bucks?
“I love omegas,” I mumbled, taking my ID out and placing it on the counter. “I think I’m more of a lady alpha, though, so we’ll see if I like it.”
“Right,” the woman affirmed and placed the book back in the box. “Well, it’s a signed copy. There are a few illustrations included inside.”
“Great.” I nodded. It didn’t matter too much to me, but maybe it mattered to Mustang.
The woman glanced at me before turning to her computer, my identification in her hands. I watched her scan the book and return my ID.
“And I’ll have to charge you for that.” She pointed behind me.
“For—” I turned and gasped in surprise when I found Estelle with part of a seven-inch record in her mouth, running her tongue back and forth over the grooves. “Estelle, babe, what are you doing?”
She paused, licking the record, eyes widening.
“Feels funny!” She turned the record toward me and gave me one of her idiot father’s adorable goofy grins. “You try, Mommy!”
I groaned and turned toward the woman, placing my credit card down on the counter.
“Please tip yourself,” I grumbled, dragging my feet to grab the three-year-old as she rushed over to check out another box of records. “Estelle!”
After spending more than planned at the bookstore, I swiftly took Estelle to the hospital to get her shots.
There was no need for a pediatrician, according to Papa, since he was a doctor, but he said the same thing when I was little.
I knew it was to avoid any questions that might arise if something appeared questionable on Estelle’s checkups.
The office door closed loudly, gaining enough of my attention to lift my eyes from the book in front of me. I wasn’t much of a reader, so it wasn’t too hard to pull me away. Not as hard as the woman in this book, but that was something I could tease Quinntessa about later.
I’d feel better about killing her if I knew I had taken every chance I could to get to know what haunted her at night. It was safe to say it wasn’t The O Word novel—this chick was being knotted by alpha wolves.
Sally was a little freak, reading these books with a straight face. I underestimated her.
“How is she?” I closed the book and stuffed it behind the pillows on the small love seat.
“Ah, stop your worrying. She’s getting a few shots. She’s fine.” Papa waved me off and continued to his desk. “How is the girl?”
“Shouldn’t you be in there with her?” I asked, standing from the couch and glancing toward the door. “She’s getting shots alone?”
“She’s with a doctor.”
“Okay, well, I should be in there. I’m her mom.”
“And you’re not her guardian,” Papa hissed, descending into his large leather chair and pulling up to his desk. “Learn your place.”
“My place is with my daughter, Papa.” I stepped up to the edge of his desk and glared down at him. “You left her alone in there with that man!”
“That man is one of my best colleagues in the pediatric department, Eleanor.” He laughed and continued shuffling through his desk. “Now, tell me about the girl, or I’m having your mother take Estelle home. What have you done? Anything?”
“I’m getting close to her,” I mumbled.
“Close to her?” His brows raised.
I shuffled my feet and took another look toward the door.
I didn’t trust some strange guy my father liked with my daughter—doctor or not.
When I was younger, he would do this, leave me in the care of one of his friends.
I was lucky to have Dominik close by, but I knew Anastasia didn’t.
I wasn’t sure why, but I remembered her leaving once for a few months and coming back looking less than herself.
It wasn’t long after that she packed a bag and left in the middle of the night, leaving me here to deal with all this shit.
“What’s your plan?” Papa asked. “Did you decide on a method? A way to dispose of the body? Transportation? Place? Are you pinning it on anyone else?”
I stood there with my thoughts, stuffing my hands in my jacket.
“I’m getting close to her so I can understand the best course of action,” I said, mind wandering to the way Quinntessa’s freckles wrinkled when she smiled. “I think I’m going to pin it on her father. That’s the best?—”
“No,” Papa interrupted me quickly.
“No?” I frowned. “You don’t want me to blame this on the one guy you want dead?”
His pale face turned deep red. Wrinkles folded across his forehead as he placed his fingers on the top of his desk and stood back up. His eyes sharply narrowed, glaring holes in my head.
“You are obviously not ready if you think it’s that easy!” he shouted.
I flinched back as his hand slammed down on his desk, rattling his cup of pens. My boots remained cemented to the floor, watching him closely as he rubbed his face and sucked his teeth.
He was angry with me a lot growing up. I knew his different kinds of anger, where they may lead.
However, this was odd. This was something I wasn’t sure I understood or where to begin to guess.
Papa hated this man. I grew up hearing endless stories about this nameless traitor who almost killed my mother and me in combat.
If I killed Sally and left it as his problem, why would it be an issue? Because he was in the FBI? We had enough men here who knew how to plant evidence on someone. This was a piece of cake.
“Do you not want him to live with that?” I bravely asked. “Everyone thinking he finally snapped and killed her?”
Papa turned his head and eyed me. His nails scratched at his chin, tugging on his scrubs to scratch his neck.
“Ch—” He cleared his throat. “Sebastian is mine. If he suffers, it’s because I’ve ordered it.
There is nothing more painful than searching for your daughter’s killer and not finding a thing.
If he sits in jail, losing his mind, or he’s spotted and killed by one of us .
. . It would be for nothing. He’d be with his family! ”
I guessed that made sense.
“Okay.” I shrugged, folding my arms over my body. “Anything else I should know? That you don’t want me to do?”
“Stop playing with your food,” Papa spat, his Russian twang thick as his brushy brows pulled together. “Kill her. Devour it. Feel what it’s like to earn your stars, and don’t make me have to do it for you.”
I swallowed when my throat ran dry. Fighting off the urge to cough in discomfort, I raked my fingers through my hair and let my hands fall to my sides.
“Valentine’s Day, Eleanor,” Papa reminded me. “Don’t fuck this up, or it will be your body thrown to the hogs.”
A knock at the door broke my silence. I didn’t bother answering him and turned to face the door as a nurse pushed it open at my father’s approval and let Estelle run inside.
“Ow!” Estelle shrieked, jumping into my arms the second I bent over to grab her. “Poked!”
“Did you get your shots?” I asked.
“Mommy,” Estelle whined, her head buried in my neck. “Mommy. Mommy. Go! I wanna go!”
“Soon.” I kissed her head and held her close to my body. She wrapped her legs around my torso as I leaned forward to kiss the Barbie Band-Aid on her arm. She whimpered, clutching my jacket tight.
I should have been with her. Maybe then, she wouldn’t have been so scared.
“Doctor doesn’t have any notes to share. I’ll email over her records, Dr. Battles.” The nurse smiled kindly.
I glanced between the two when my father smirked and nodded to the woman. My eyes rolled at the redness spread over her face as she stepped inside the door and hovered nearby.
“Thank you, Brenda.” Papa licked his lips and turned to me, a pointed look sent in my direction. “I trust you know the way to the parking lot.”
I glanced between the two and rolled my eyes again—this time, with much more drama than I knew he wanted seen in front of his coworkers.
“We’ll see ourselves out.” I grabbed my bag and stuffed the book inside, then my daughter’s expensive new chew toy.
As I passed Brenda, she gave Estelle a little wave. I turned so my daughter wouldn’t have to see interact with Papa’s newest fuck buddy and continued out the door.
“Don’t forget about our Valentine’s Day plans!” Papa called after me. “I don’t want any surprises. Do you understand?”
I gritted my teeth and kept walking. I was sure he listened to my boots storm toward the elevator.