I grabbed a pair of shoes from the closet and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on.
“Can you believe this?”
Splat, my obese, orange tabby cat, who found it hilarious to unravel my toilet roll, stretched and yawned beside me. “I’m being set up. I know it. And you get to lie sprawled out without a care in the world.” Splat meowed. “Sorry, you care about when you get your next meal.” He pawed at the mess of clothes on my bed.
I went to my dresser and shifted aside the books piled there. “Where the hell did I put my keys? Splat, if you were playing with them, I’ll take away your treats.”
Splat rolled over on his back and stretched out his short, stubby legs. He rubbed his head on my pillow and began purring.
I found them in my coat pocket, along with a crumpled pack of watermelon gum. I grabbed my cell off the bed, glancing at the time. Shit, I was going to be late. Despite my life being uprooted, I was still punctual.
I walked down to the parking garage and got in my red Mini Cooper S. I took the side streets, zipping in and out of traffic, between cars whose discourteous drivers decided to pull over wherever they damn well felt like it, thinking hazard lights meant you could do anything you wanted.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to the iron gates on Post Street. Massive trees hid the house in the summer, but now in November after the leaves had fallen, you could catch a glimpse of it. It emanated coolness with gray stone encasing three stories. The property was surrounded by an eight-foot wall and an alarm system that would test any burglar.
I had yet to find out how Keir afforded the place. Anstice didn’t work anymore, and considering she had studied for six years at the University of Guelph to become a veterinarian, it was strange. Anstice’s dream had always been to practice veterinary medicine, until Keir came into the picture.
I pressed the button on the intercom, and before I could say anything into the black box, the gates opened.
I glanced at the clock on the console—two minutes late, not bad.
I got out of the car, shut the door, and took two steps before it hit me. My breath hitched and I staggered back against the car as my heart thumped wildly. Goose bumps rose on my skin, and I wrapped my arms around myself as if I needed . . . something.
The cold wind blew an intense gust, sifting through my hair as my eyes darted from side to side. It felt . . . it felt as if someone had run their fingers across my skin.
“Danni, you coming?” Anstice stood on the porch with the door wide open.
“Umm, yeah.” I took one last look around, seeing nothing but tree branches swaying in the breeze. “Just locking the door. Never know what crazies live in this slummy neighborhood.”
Anstice laughed.
I walked up to the door, my flesh still tingling. Maybe I’d give this Waleron guy a chance.
“You’re a dick, you know that?” I said to Jedrik who leaned against the wall in the living room, looking his typical cocky self with ankles crossed and wearing a smirk. I glared at Keir. “You promised this smug ass wouldn’t be here.”
Jedrik’s blond curls danced around his handsome face, dimples rarely absent from his cheeks, charm working at full tilt. According to rumor, his interests involved slipping between a woman’s legs and one-night stands.
Anstice passed me a glass of red wine. “Waleron cancelled about an hour ago. Jedrik overheard and, despite Keir’s threats, he changed his plans and decided to stay in for the evening. But Hack went out.” Anstice gave me an ‘I am soooo sorry look.’
Fuck, I hated being the object of some ongoing bet, and Jedrik was the type to never lose. Well, he was losing this one.
Jedrik didn’t appear to take offense to the insult, rather the opposite. His boyish grin widened and I had to admit, two years ago, I’d have been on the guy like a badger. Player or not, Jedrik was one inked up hottie. Although, he acted more like a one-night stander rather than a flinger, which I defined as a sweet few months of hot sex.
After a couple drinks we had dinner, an exasperating experience considering Jedrik sat across the table from me and every so often offered to let me try what he was eating . . . as if we had different meals. When his mashed potatoes fell off his fork into his wine because he was fooling around, I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to stop from laughing. I had to give the guy credit, he never became embarrassed. His chuckle was contagious, and after several more glasses of wine, I found myself relaxing.
It was close to midnight when Anstice and Keir headed to bed. “Guest room is done up for you,” Keir said.
“Thanks. I’ve drunk enough to blow the needle right off a Breathalyzer.”
Anstice gave me a hug. “Night.” She lowered her voice. “It’s good to see you laugh. You look better.”
Probably due to my flushed cheeks because of all the wine I drank, but I did feel better. It had been a long time since I spent an evening with friends, eating, drinking, and laughing. I was lucky to have them; even Jedrik—who was presently refilling my wine—had won me over. But he still wouldn’t be winning any bet.
He passed me the glass and sat on the chair across from the couch I was lounging on. I pulled off my shoes and tucked my legs beneath me.
Jedrik raised his glass. “To laughter.”
We clinked glasses then sipped our wine. It was comforting sitting with him, no thoughts of tomorrow or yesterday, just enjoying the now. It was the first time since my abduction that I felt as if I could relax and breathe. That my past was swept away—I just wish I could keep it there.