Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
My nephew napped in the crib next to his mom. He was all cleaned up, and now he sort of resembled a baby. On a scale of angel to hellspawn, yeah, I had seen cuter babies. Obviously, I didn’t say anything, but I did sort of ask Mom if he would look a little less alien later. She told me to give it a week.
A nurse came in and reached for the baby. Connor awoke. He didn’t say anything, he just opened his eyes.
“I’ll bring him right back,” the nurse said and carried him off.
They had been taking the baby out for different medical things, and Connor always went with them. He looked so tired.
I got up and told him quietly, “I’ve got this one. Rest.”
He looked about to argue, but I was already moving.
The nurse hurried down the hallway, two of Connor’s security guys trailing her. She ducked into a room on the left, and the guards turned to follow her and stopped at the doorway, with identical blank looks on their faces.
Oh no you don’t.
I sped up, pulling on the blue aspect again. Three people besides the baby and the nurse… Wait a minute.
Ha!
I moved silently, sliding behind the catatonic guards. An older man, an older woman, and a scary guy in a suit.
My evil grandmother cradled her great grandchild. The older man next to her practically glowed with pride.
Well, imagine that. That certainly cleared some things up.
“What a beautiful boy,” Victoria Tremaine purred. “What a lovely, lovely boy.”
The older man smiled.
My evil grandmother rocked the baby. “Look, Trevor, isn’t he the most beautiful child you’ve ever seen?”
“Yes, ma’am. He is,” the man in the suit said.
I let them have a few more minutes and walked into the room.
“Grandmother, Grandfather, scary guy I don’t know, I’ll take the baby now.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes at me. I held out my arms. She sighed and passed the baby to me. He squirmed and made a cat noise.
“Support the head,” Grandmother said.
“I know.”
“We will not speak of this,” my grandfather said.
I gave him a big smile. “That will depend entirely on you.”
I walked back to the room, cradling my nephew. He was so tiny. And kind of cute.
“Don’t worry,” I told him softly, snuggling him closer. “I’m the cool aunt. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.
The baby looked back at me with big round eyes and farted.
MARTY
Istopped in the doorway of Father’s office. He was checking his computer screen and writing something down on a piece of paper. His face was calm and collected, his eyes focused. Floof curled by his feet, snoring softly in a pile of crumpled papers. The plumpy raccoon thought the office was her lair. I bought her a nice kitty bed, but she kept taking paper trash out of the waste basket and making a bed with it instead.
Father was busy, which was nothing new. He was often busy. He liked to say that it was because we needed the money, but I knew the real reason. He missed Mother. He felt helpless when she died, and now he wanted to make sure he was there to do something when other people felt helpless.
I couldn’t remember her face anymore. When I tried to recall what my mother looked like, I got a warm, soft smudge with dark hair. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel sad about it or if it was better this way. Death was the final predator, and sometimes it pounced when you least expected it. There was no fighting it, but Father still tried and I did, too.
Floof finally caught my scent. She uncurled, rolled onto her feet, and scurried over. I crouched and scratched behind her left ear. She grabbed my leggings with her hands and pulled at the fabric.
Father looked up and smiled. He was always very handsome, but especially when he smiled.
“I have a problem,” I said.
“How can I help?”
“It’s Marty. He’s stuck.”
Father got up. “Let’s get him unstuck.”
We left the office and went down a sunlit path toward the armory. Around us, life hummed. Birds sang. Insects chirped in the ornamental shrubs. Mice scurried, hidden by the flowers in the flower beds.
We turned onto the main “street” of the Compound, a wide, paved road that connected the main gate with the main house. Tall oaks flanked the road, their canopies meeting over our heads, and two squirrels bickered in their branches while three others watched. Squirrels were territorial creatures, and they got into disputes over trees and food and had to have words.
I, too, was a territorial creature. The Baylor Compound was my kingdom. I knew it like the back of my hand. I never fully understood that expression. Was the back of the hand the palm side or the other side…
“Matilda?”
“Yes, Father?”
“Would you like a tutor to help you learn Spanish?”