Climbing Out

Chapter Four

© by Lila Rose 2014

Griz

I looked at the screen and my stomach turned. I wanted to put my fist through a wall. It was her again. This was becoming more frequent, but who was I to deny it?

"Gotta go?" Talon asked. He must have read my face.

"Yeah." I sighed. "Fuck!" I clipped and looked up from my phone to meet Deanna's curious gaze. My brows furrowed and I turned to Talon. "You'll catch me up later?"

"Course, brother," he said with a chin lift.

"There will be nothing to catch up on," Deanna snapped.

I scoffed. "Sure, princess." I walked to the doorway— where the door was now hanging from its hinges—and said over my shoulder, "See ya later."

And I meant it in every way because I knew whatever was going down with Hell Mouth would be yet another situation where shit would happen.

She would need someone at her side.

Whether she liked it or not, that someone was me.

Shit.

And that was going to be more trouble I didn't need.

Guarding Hell Mouth's person was going to be a test all on its own.

* * * *

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. That had never happened before, so one could say I was already on high alert. Kathy always had the door opened within seconds when I pulled up. She'd listen for my bike and be ready and waiting, eager to get the fuck outta here.

So where in the hell was she when it was only ten minutes ago that she'd rang?

I pounded on the door this time, and yelled, "Kathy?"

Nothing.

Not one fucking sound.

That was when I heard it.

A faint cry.

I kicked my boot through the second door of the day and ran into the house.

The crying got louder as I got closer to the back of the messy house and into the bedroom.

"Fuck," I growled.

Stepping over Kathy's prone body on the floor, I picked up Swan, my two-year-old daughter, from her crib.

"It's okay, baby. Shh, everything's gonna be fine," I cooed and murmured to her as I walked her out of the room, down the hall and into the dirty kitchen.

Fuck!

Was she dead?

She had to have been.

Jesus. Was the mother of my child laying on that floor dead?

In front of our baby?

Stupid fuckin' bitch. What in Christ's name had she done now?

Why the fuck did the house look like a bomb had hit it, and smelled like it as well?

I glanced around the kitchen, from the dirty floor to the bench tops, and some crap sticking outta the oven. The fridge door was open and empty.

Flipping open my phone, I looked down at Swan. She'd calmed down enough to stare back up at me.

"It's gonna be okay, baby," I whispered.

Her little hands reached up and wrapped around the back of my neck. She buried her tiny head into my shoulder and sighed.