"If the cold doesn't kill you, the wolves will."
NOT A WEREWOLF STORY
Book 1 of 2.
In which an 18-year-old girl flees to Alaska to escape being accused of murder & to uncover what happened to her uncle. Involves two gentle giants.
Completed. :)
Fea...
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Chapter 29 | THE RETURN OF JANE SMITH AND INTIMIDATED SILENCE
I lock eye(s) with him as soon as he enters the place.
"Thor!" I smile brightly. "Hi!"
He lets the door shut behind him as he stands right in front of it and frowns, looking intently at my face. "I don't know who you are."
Oh. That's right.
"I'm Mikaere, we met like a week go. I'm John Agner's niece."
His eye widens. "Still don't remember you, but how could I forget your uncle? Good friend! I lost my eye when I went looking for him."
I nod, "Yeah, that's what you told me."
"Really? What else did I tell you?"
"How you got bombarded with ravens and arrows only to lose your eye to a twig."
He nods, looking a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. I notice his eye flickers back and forth between me, the floor, and Luna, and his cheeks are soon a deeper shade of red than before. Luna doesn't even notice him, though, as she checks things off on a list.
Well, that's my cue to leave.
Before I can ask Thor to move, though, the dark wooden store door tries to open. But, since Thor's still right in front of the door, it just swiftly hits him.
I expect to hear an apology of some sort come through the door when Thor goes, "Oof!" and moves back; however, there is only silence.
And, that gives me a heads up as to who has also decided to show up.
He steps through the door fully this time, eyes moving from me to Thor to Luna, who is suddenly trying to disappear towards the back room.
And then it's just us three as he moves to stand away from the door, eyes focusing solely on Thor now.
The air is tense, and I recall how Thor talked about the arrows being shot at him out of nowhere. The ones that led to him running into that twig...which then caused him to lose an eye...
And then I recall how Vaughn justified scaring the people away with arrows by saying that the people were only there for him.
I really should leave.
"Thornson."
"Westergaard."
I roll my eyes slightly at the greeting as my arms grow heavy from holding the bags. And, to make things worse, I can't even escape because I'm trapped between a large bookshelf and Thor.
Could they maybe hurry it up or something? I'm tired.
