Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Sam was different, though. He was her hero. He was larger than life, was the strongest person she knew—and she had her own bodyguard—so coming apart in front of him was somehow okay. It was like she got a pass because her father was a knight. She could break down, and when he told her he was there, he would protect her and she was safe, every word was gospel. He stood between her and the world, and at the moment, until she stopped feeling vulnerable, his strength was necessary. People who didn’t know Hannah wouldn’t understand. She had put a bigger foe not only on the ground but had rendered him unconscious. She’d saved the damsel in distress and had not become one herself. What was there to be scared of?
I understood, though. She had been in fear for her life. When Sam put Ray on the ground, he didn’t give it any more thought than that. He knew he could, so he did. But for Hannah, she was terrified as she fought Tim. She told me at the hospital, when Sam was talking to the doctor, that she’d been afraid he would kill her.
“I was so scared of what could happen,” she confessed. “I didn’t know how mad he would get or what he would do to me.”
“You actually thought he was going to take your life?”
She nodded.
People were impressed with her––the cops, people at the party––because she had taken down this huge man, but to her it was life or death. She didn’t know him or what he was capable of. She had been compelled to help Cathy, and hadn’t thought any further than that. It was terrifying.
So now, when everything was finally done, she was wrung out from the adrenaline and dread, and she wanted a cocoon of safety only one person could provide. Composure obliterated, she fell apart in his arms.
“I’ll make strawberry pie,” I suggested. “I’ll have it done in an hour. You guys go watch TV while the boys play their game.”
“World of Warcraft is not a game,” Kola assured me, more than a bit affronted.
“Do you want pie?”
“Yes.”
“Then I suggest you not be quite so lippy.”
He grumbled but was not, in fact, lippy.
Once I had the pie cooling in the refrigerator, I checked on the boys. They were still playing, and Hannah was on the couch curled up beside her father.
“As soon as the pie’s done, I’ll––”
“Sit down by me,” Sam murmured, lifting his arm.
“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I didn’t even have time to be scared, really.”
“I know,” he soothed me, still holding up his arm. “Just c’mere.”
I was as susceptible to Sam Kage’s strength as my daughter, so I snuggled in tight, and when he kissed my forehead, my sigh was long.
“You know, we have to start thinking about the candles for Lammas,” Hannah explained with a yawn. “There’s flowers to get and stone chips and––”
“We’ll get it,” he assured her.
“George is going to love Beelzebub, and having a pet will do him good.”
I wasn’t sure about that, but I didn’t want to argue. I just wanted to be cozy on the couch and listen to the boys argue at the table.
I really loved being home.
That's all, hope you all have a super rest of July.
AUGUST 2021
Hello, all, Jory Harcourt here with August 2021’s He Said, he said. Now, you probably all saw the video on You Tube or Instagram or TikTok, or a dozen other places, but everything after Kola put himself in front of Alessia Ricci and saved her life, making himself a human shield—can you tell I’m stuck on this—was actually snipped out. So yes, he was heroic and amazing, and the first time I saw it I threw up—he could have died—but the aftermath was not available for large-scale public consumption. I wanted to share with all of you, though, because I’ve gotten a few worried emails.
Last Friday night my husband came home, after being away since Tuesday. Every now and then he has to go to not only Arlington, Virginia, with his boss, Tom Kenwood, to sit with the other US marshals and chief deputies to figure out how things are going, but they also go to other cities and touch base about ways to improve interdepartmental task forces, information gathering, and basically how to make things better so nothing falls through the cracks. This trip had been to Boston, and as he’d been gone four days and three nights, he was probably expecting a better welcome home than coming into a house full of people.
“Daddy,” Hannah wailed, seeing him first, getting up from where she was perched on the arm of the couch keeping vigil, and rushing from the living room to the kitchen to reach him. She hurled herself into his open arms. “I’m so sorry. It’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”