Текст книги "Transcending Darkness"

Автор книги: Airicka Phoenix

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

She glowered at him. “No, I’m not all right!” she snapped. “You tore my clothes, you animal!”

The asshole actually smirked. “I warned you not to fight me.” His hand closed around her ankle and she was dragged lower on the mattress. Her leg was tossed across his lap so she was splayed open wide with him between her calves. “I told you to be a good girl and let me…” He bent over her pussy and kissed her lips. Juliette groaned, her hips reflexively twitching. “Fuck you.”

He worked her clit with his tongue until she was thrashing all over again. Her heel dug into the mattress as she writhed and pushed against him. It was harder to do with her hands bound and one foot resting in his lap, but she was sure she’d die if he stopped, which he did. Then he rose and stood over the bed to study her.

She must have looked an absolute mess what with her clothes in tattered pieces hanging off her and her legs lewdly thrown open wide. With her arms at her back, her chest was pushed out, the nipples sharp points begging for his attention. But the way he was watching her, she could have been a giant steak and he was starving.

He took his cock in hand, full reawakened and leaking. Juliette watched the steady pump of his fist, her core muscles flexing. Her hips wiggled across the sheets, wishing her hands were free so she could at least ease some of the pressure. Killian grinned, knowing perfectly well what he was doing to her. He reached for the dresser and pulled on a new condom. Her knees parted wide even before he climbed over her.

“Now!” she breathed, desperate. “Now, Killian. Please!”

Without missing a beat, he joined them. Slowly. So very slowly. It took ages for his full length to be sheathed inside her. Ages that had her head spinning and her whole body quivering wildly. Killian watched her as though she were some experiment he just couldn’t understand. His features never lost their dark hunger, but it was underlined by fascination and something else. On either side of her head, his arms trembled with his restraint, but he seemed in no hurry to end either of their suffering.

He pulled all the way out before feeding himself back in. He did this so many times Juliette was practically in tears.

“No more!” she begged. “Please. Please, Killian.”

His elbows creaked as he lowered himself on his forearms. His weight settled more comfortably over her. He bent his head and kissed her, gently at first. But the kiss increased as his thrusts did, until both were brutal and angry. Juliette welcomed it all as her body finally caught the release it had been begging for.

Against her neck, he muttered something she couldn’t understand as he came. His body shuddered and went momentarily limp before he quickly shot up and reached to untie her hands.

Relief prickled the raw skin around her wrists and the soreness in her shoulders. The lines were faint, but she rubbed them anyway and peered up at the man watching her.

“That was different.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Thought you’d like it.”

She shrugged, her mouth twisting up at the corners. “I did once I got over being scared out of my mind. Thanks for that, by the way.”

His hand lifted to the side of her face in a loving caress that made her insides flutter. “I would never let that happen. I would kill anyone who ever touched you like that.”

Not sure what possessed her to do it, maybe it was just the tangle of fierce anger and determination glowing across his face, but she scooted over to him and climbed into his lap. Her arms went around his shoulders and she nuzzled into his neck where the skin smelled of spices and something wild she could never put her fingers on.

He held her back. He closed her up in his arms and cradled her to his chest.

It was a rare thing, this moment of absolute intimacy. He hadn’t really held her since the afternoon he told her he’d saved her from Arlo. Being held during sex or a few minutes after wasn’t the same thing. Normally, she never initiated it either for the same reason she couldn’t look at a calendar without her stomach hurting. It was mind fucking and dangerous. But neither of them pulled away.

“I should go,” she murmured at last. “I have an hour left, not that it matters.” Carefully, she got to her feet. “I’m pretty sure I’m fired.”

“You’re not fired.” He rose and moved to a chair pushed up next to the window in the corner of a beautiful bedroom. He picked up a pretty black and pink box and returned to her. “And you’re not going back tonight. I have other plans.”

Frowning, she took the box and set it on the bed. Killian moved aside to let her push back the pink tissue paper.

The fabric shimmered as she drew it from its resting place. It spilled through her fingers in a ripple of white satin woven through with fine, silver threads that matched the thick silver straps that ran lengthwise from under the left arm down the right hip. It circled around the back in three ropes that hooped over the right shoulder. At a first glance it almost reminded her of the light dresses Greek women used to wear, but the front was plated beneath the strips and there was a long cut up the right leg that went dangerously close to her hipbone.

Dress still in hand, she turned to Killian. “This is a bit … fancy for a hotel clerk.”

Beautifully naked, Killian moved with fluid confidence to the settee opposite the chair and hooked a finger through the hanger of a garment bag. He lifted it to study closely before turning to her.

“I told you, you’re not going back tonight,” he told her simply.

“Killian…” Her exasperated sigh was met with a carefully neutral expression from him. “By now, Celina is probably having a fit in Harold’s office about me running up here to screw my boyfriend, which by the way, I did not appreciate!”

An eyebrow rose. “Getting screwed by your boyfriend?”

“You know what I mean!” she shot back. “You calling down there and threatening to fuck me in the middle of the foyer just because you were horny and couldn’t wait two hours.”

“Oh sweetheart.” He moved towards her and stopped once he had her face properly tipped up to his. “That wasn’t a threat. That was a very clear promise.”

“Killian!” She set the dress down before she dropped the thing that probably cost more than her entire house. “This is my job! You can’t just—”

“I can when your shift was over and you were free to get fucked.”

Juliette frowned. “What are you talking about? I know my schedule. I had two hours.”

“I promise you didn’t.”

Leaving him watching, she stalked to the phone on the nightstand and called down to the front. She braced herself for Celina’s sultry purr to answer.

“It’s me, Celina,” Juliette said, doing her best not to grit her teeth. “Can you check my schedule for tonight?”

“I made an official report!” the woman retorted venomously. “So it doesn’t really matter—”

“Can you please just check?” Juliette snapped.

She heard Celina’s huff. Then the click of keys. Then there was a too long silence that made her nervous.

“This can’t be right…” Celina muttered at long last. “I checked yesterday and it said you were working until three.”

“So, I’m not working until three?” Juliette asked cautiously.

“It says you were off at one.”

Juliette turned to look at Killian who was watching her with an almost catlike grin.

“This doesn’t make sense!” Celina said. “I saw it—”

“Thank you, Celina.” Juliette hung up and faced the man behind her fully. “What did you do?”

Killian blinked. “Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because Celina and I both know I was supposed to work until three. Somehow, mysteriously, that time was changed so I could get off early, which is convenient since you arrived and summoned me upstairs.”

“I didn’t summon,” he mumbled, looking genuinely offended. “I requested your presence.”

“Killian, you can’t do stuff like that!” She hated the frustrated whine in her tone, hated that she wanted to stomp her feet and scream at him. “You are going to get me fired and I am going to be so pissed that I might set all your clothes on fire.”

He visibly recoiled. “That’s a little excessive, isn’t it?”

“No!” she barked. “It’s not. It’s self-preservation and since you like to meddle in my affairs … you know what,” she broke off, realizing something. “In the contract you stated perfectly well that I was not allowed to interfere with your business. So why do you get to come meddle in mine?”

The garment bag was tossed down on the bed next to her dress and he folded his arms, his posture as angry as hers.

“I have not meddled in your business,” he said with a deadly calm that almost made her back down.

“Then explain the lost two hours,” she shot back.

“Poor scheduling. A typo.”

The anger washed out of her, not because there was a possibility that he could be right, which he could have been, mistakes happened. But because she was inexplicably exhausted. No part of her wanted to be upright anymore. Maybe it was adrenaline from being scared wearing off or the rush that always came with having mind blowing sex finally waning, but all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Instead, she walked over to where he’d tossed his white dress shirt neatly over his folded trousers and pulled it on. Then she gathered up her ruined clothes and tossed them into the trash. Half under the bed, a pair of heavy duty night vision goggles lay forgotten. That must have been the thud she heard and how he was able to see so clearly in the dark. She left them there.

“Juliette…”

She shook her head. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“You’re angry,” he argued.

She stopped to meet his gaze. “I’m not. I’m not sure what I am.”

He studied her with those calculating eyes, no doubt trying to assess just how to go about handling the situation.

“What part of this upset you the most?” he asked at last. “Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

Because that was what he did. He fixed things. He was forever fixing problems for her and while it was so good to finally not have to do them herself for once, she knew she needed to put a stop to it before she became so dependent on him that when their time was up, she didn’t recognize herself.

“I just want the truth.”

He considered that solemnly and gave a curt nod. “All right. I changed your schedule.”

Some of the tightness loosened around her chest. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to take you somewhere and it was supposed to be a surprise.”

Her gaze went to the dress. “Why not just tell me that? I could have booked the time off—”

He shook his head. “That defeats the purpose of a surprise.”

She knew she could have given him a hundred different ways he could have gone about the situation, but another question came to mind.

“How? How did you get it changed?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. A sort of grudging acceptance tightening his mouth.

“I asked Harold to do it.”

“And he just did it?”

Killian nodded. “Basically, yes.”

A more disturbing thought occurred to her. “Tell me you didn’t get me the promotion,” she whispered.

“I didn’t get you the promotion,” he mimicked without missing a beat.

“Promise!”

“I promise.”

Inclined to believe him, having no reason not to, she relented. Her gaze went to the dress, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“What was the surprise?” she asked.

“A party,” he said with a deep exhale. “But we might have missed that train.”

She followed his gaze to the alarm clock next to the bed. It was already creeping to nearly three.

“It’s over?” she asked.

“If it’s not, it will be soon,” he answered.

Guilt tugged at her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Killian shrugged. “It won’t be the first or the last.”

It was said flippantly, like it didn’t bother him either way, but she could see it in his eyes before he turned away. He had really wanted to take her, had gone through the trouble of getting her a dress and making sure she had the time off. He had even come to her, to her hotel so they could spend some time together before they left.

“Killian…” She went to him. Her hands lifted to his face and she arched on her toes to meet his mouth. She kissed him softly. “I love the dress.”

Dark pools lingered over her face, moved over her mouth before settling on her eyes. “You’ll have to try it on for me.”

She started to, but stopped. She turned back to him with her lip caught between her teeth.

“How about I make it up to you instead?”

A dark eyebrow quirked in clear interest. “I’m listening.”

Grinning, she picked up the dress, folded it neatly, and lay it down amongst the tissue once more. She replaced the lid and faced him once more.

“That’ll be my surprise.”

His eyes glinted. “I do like your surprises.”

Chuckling, she went back to him and circled his shoulders with her arms. “Good. Now kiss me.”

Firm hands settled on her sides and drew her more securely against his naked chest. “Such a demanding witch.”

His mouth dropped to hers.

Juliette left Killian face down across the hotel mattress, naked and fast asleep as she pulled his dress shirt and boxers on. It was mortifying, and nothing fit, but having to roll the waistband of the boxers a few times was better than sneaking out of the hotel naked. She picked up his phone off the nightstand, found Frank’s number and sent a quick text to bring Killian fresh clothes … when he had the chance. Please and thank you. She hit send, set the phone down and gathered her shoes and the box with the dress before sneaking out of the room.

After being a maid for the last four years, the extravagance of the suite no longer impressed her as she tiptoed across the sitting area towards the door. Everything was ivory and gold and gleamed to a stubborn sheen and felt as impersonal as it could possibly get.

Glancing back over her shoulder once, Juliette wrenched open the front door and skirted out quickly.

“Miss Romero?”

Juliette yelped in fright at the deep, rumbling voice that seemed impossibly loud in the deafening silence. The box and her shoes flew from her grasp as she whirled around. They hit the ground with a noisy clatter as both hands jumped to her chest.

Frank regarded her coolly.

“Jesus!” she hissed. “You scared the crap out of me, Frank.”

He had the decency to tip his chin down a notch. “My apologies, ma’am. I received your message.”

Still struggling to force her heart out of her throat and back into her chest, Juliette turned and gathered her things back up. She stood once more and faced the man.

“I had an accident with my clothes,” she explained, not sure why, but being embarrassed enough not to be able to stop herself. “So I’m borrowing Killian’s. He’s sleeping right now, but I’m sure he’ll want clothes for when he leaves.”

He inclined his head. “I will see to it.” He motioned her towards the elevators. “Please allow me to walk you to the car.”

Juliette hesitated. “Is it safe to leave Killian alone? I mean, I’m sure it is. The hotel has cameras, but I’m okay to walk down alone. Thank you.”

Frank studied her a long moment. “Mr. McClary would insist,” he said at last.

Juliette glanced at the closed door and thought of Killian in bed, alone and vulnerable.

“Maybe you could walk me to the elevators and have John and Tyson meet me at the bottom?” she suggested. “I don’t want him left alone,” she whispered and immediately felt foolish.

The guy was in a hotel. What could possibly happen? But if Frank thought she was being overdramatic and ridiculous, he never said as much. He raised his left wrist to his mouth and spoke calmly and clearly into the device, all the while watching her.

“Rendezvous to the elevators,” he said.

If someone responded, Juliette didn’t hear it. But Frank nodded his head and motioned her to start walking.

At the elevators, he pushed the button and then waited with her while the cart rolled up. When it arrived and the door opened, John greeted her. He bowed his head once.

Juliette turned to Frank. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, ma’am.”

Casting a glance down the hallway in the direction of Killian’s room, she stepped into the cart and watched the door roll shut.

Tyson was waiting below for them. The pair flagged either side of her as they made a quick beeline for the front doors. Juliette paused long enough to slip her feet into her shoes before following the two to the SUV parked outside.

The van was still across the street from her house when they rolled into her driveway next to Phil’s BMW. Juliette glanced at it as she hopped out. John closed the door behind her and started guiding her to the front door, but she dug her heels in.

“John?”

“Yes ma’am?”

Juliette peered at the van again and then the BMW where Phil was rolling down the driver’s side window to talk to Tyson. It had never dawned on her, but standing there, seeing the cars and how they never seemed to move unless she or Vi were headed somewhere, she couldn’t help wondering if the men ever left or did they stay there and wait? All that time, she’d been under the impression that they left really late and arrived really early. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Where do you guys sleep?” she asked.

“Ma’am?” John looked genuinely perplexed.

She faced him. “Do you guys go home? Or do you go to Killian’s?

“No ma’am.”

Juliette started. “Are you telling me that you guys live in my driveway? I mean, what about the bathroom and meals and … sleep? How do you sleep?”

John shifted uncomfortably. “We sleep in shifts, ma’am.”

Juliette frowned. “In the car?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That … that is horrible!” she gasped. “I have a spare room inside and a sofa and I can get some air mattresses—”

John’s face softened for the first time since she’d met him. “That’s real kind of you, ma’am, but it’s our job.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she protested. “How can you do your jobs properly when you’re exhausted and hungry? No. I insist. Don’t argue with me!” she warned when he opened his mouth.

Not waiting for him to respond again, she marched to the van and knocked on the backdoor. It opened almost immediately and two faces peered back at her.

“Come inside,” she told the men she couldn’t remember the names of. “Both of you.” She stalked back to the driveway, pausing only long enough to catch Phil’s eye. “You too.”

She stormed inside as quietly as one can storm without waking everyone up. She left the door open as she kicked out of her shoes and hurried to the hallway closet. She tore out blankets and pillows. In the foyer, she could hear the shuffle of feet as the group entered the house.

Arms full of everything they could use to sleep on, she charged into the living room and dumped it all on the sofa. Breathing hard, she swiped hair back from her face and eyed the crowd.

“I’ll get air mattresses tomorrow, or cots. For tonight, I have a bed upstairs if you don’t mind doubling up and there’s the sofa and unfortunately the floor. The bathroom is just down the hall, same with the kitchen. Help yourselves to whatever.”

With that, she turned and left them staring after her as she headed upstairs to shower and climb into bed.

“They’re there to protect you, not shack up with you, Juliette!”

Juliette stared hard at the man glowering back at her from the expense of his shiny office. Her own arms were folded, her lips pursed thin. She wasn’t sure how he found out, but she guessed one of his men had thought to inform him of her change in his orders.

“They’re not shacking up with me,” she retorted hotly. “But it’s cruel to let them sleep outside in a car when they are there because of me. Plus, what difference does it make, Killian? Outside, inside, they can still do their job, but at least they’ll be fed and rested. Besides, I have the room for it! Please don’t make them go back out there.”

With a vicious growl that made her think she’d maybe won, he scrubbed hard at his face with a palm. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“They are not puppies,” he bit out finally.

“Exactly. They are men who are putting their lives on the line to protect someone they don’t even know.” She sighed and moved closer a step. “Please let them stay.”

His hand dropped and he peered at her for what felt like hours. He looked no closer to thinking what she’d done was right, but the lines around his face weren’t as harsh and she took that as a good sign.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?”

Knowing a win when she heard one, Juliette beamed. She crossed the rest of the space between them and kissed him.

“Thank you.”

He continued to scowl. “I’ll want something back for this,” he informed her.

Grinning, she reached up and tugged lightly on his tie the way she’d wanted to do since she’d arrived. The burgundy strip running down the length of his white dress shirt made her think of fresh blood. Seeing it against his chest closed a fist of ice around her chest. So she felt no guilt tearing it off and tossing it somewhere over her shoulder. With it gone, her hands were free to glide up the toned valley of his beautiful chest to curl over his shoulders.

“I have a meeting—”

“A different tie,” she whispered. “Any other color. Not red.”

If he thought her request as odd, he never questioned it. Instead, his hands settled on the curve of her hips and she was drawn forward.

“What will you do today?” he asked.

“I promised the boys air mattresses,” she said, skimming her fingers over the hot skin along the back of his neck between collar and hairline. “And we need food in the house.”

“So you’re going to spend your first day off shopping?”

Her mouth curved and she hummed softly. “I guess so.”

His fingers skated up the length of her spine, traced each bump up the span to cup the back of her neck with five strips of heat that sent a wave of electricity through her. He kissed her lightly. The kind of kiss that had her toes curling and her heart dancing. It was the kind of kiss she loved and hated coming from him. It said too much when she knew it shouldn’t.

“Come back when you’re finished,” he murmured against her mouth. “Wait for me in my room.”

Her eyes opened and she found herself caught in the endless black of his. “I will.”

His head began to lower once more when a scuffle from the doorway had them pulling apart.

Frank in his navy blue suit and a deep scowl stood blocking a group of men Juliette didn’t recognize. Whoever they were, their presence had Killian stiffening and his arms quickly dropping from around her. The unexpected abandonment had Juliette staggering back a step in confusion.

“Leave,” he said to her quietly, his eyes full of something that curdled all the happiness inside her. “Now!”

Not asking, Juliette ducked her head and walked out at a quick pace without looking at anyone. She knew enough about that part of Killian’s life not to linger. Whoever these men were, they were not men she wanted memorizing her face or why she was with Killian.

“You’re early, Mr. Smith,” was the last thing she heard Killian say before she hit the hallway at a near run.

John and Tyson moved to her side the moment she tumbled to the bottom of the stairs. The front doors were open wide to a group of men, men who didn’t belong to Killian and men who did. They seemed to be in a silent battle on the threshold that filled the air with a ripple of tension so thick, it was a near, physical heat wave washing over her skin. Sweat dampened her spine and her strides faltered.

John grabbed her elbow and hauled her the rest of the way by force to the SUV.

“Is he safe?” she demanded.

“My orders are to remove you off the premises,” was her brisk answer.

“John!”

She was shoved into the back and the door was slammed shut behind her. John jumped in behind the wheel as Tyson took the seat next to her. The wheels screeched on marble as they tore through the open gates.

“John!” she shouted again. “Is Killian going to be okay? Who were those men?”

Nobody answered. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting one.

It was ridiculous to be concerned for the safety of a person who had chosen that life, who had chosen to bring that kind of evil into his own home, but she was scared numb, scared of what was happening, but more scared of losing Killian. She tried to tell herself that Mr. Smith—if that really was his name—was in Killian’s territory, which meant that Killian would have the higher hand. But it didn’t matter. He was in there with what was clearly a threat and Juliette had no way of knowing if he was all right.

“Ma’am?” John was watching her through the rearview mirror, his hazel eyes apologetic, but calm. “Where would you like to go?”

Home.

That was her first thought and it even worked its way to her throat before she swallowed it down; going home wasn’t going to make her worry any less. In fact, she was pretty certain she would spend all her time pacing and badgering everyone if there had been any news.

“The mall,” she whispered in a sort of garble when her tongue refused to unglue from the roof of her mouth. “The mall, please,” she repeated once she had regained control of her mouth.

John inclined his head.

“We will be informed when it will be safe to return you,” Tyson said from beside her in a gruff, almost accented tone she couldn’t quite place.

“You mean when those men are gone,” she guessed.

Tyson said nothing, but she got a feeling he was trying to make her feel better. While she appreciated the gesture, it made no dent in her giant wall of worry.

The trip through the mall ended with her packing five heavy duty cots, foam mattresses, blankets and pillows into three carts. Tyson and John helped push the heavier one. The woman at the front asked if they were going camping and Juliette could only smile, because she could think of no answer. It wasn’t until she was hit with the total that she realized she hadn’t thought her plan out well enough. Mind lost in thoughts of Killian, she hadn’t done her normal, diligent shopping. The one that involved price checking and comparing. There was no way she had enough.

She started to open her mouth when Tyson handed over a familiar, black card to the cashier, who happily took it before Juliette could get her wits about her.

“I know that card!” Juliette burst out, glowering accusingly at Tyson. “What are you doing with it?”

“We were asked to hold on to it in the event that you would need it,” Tyson said as though reciting something he’d read.

“Unbelievable,” Juliette muttered. “I told him I didn’t want the thing.”

The cashier looked uncertainly from Juliette to Tyson, the card trembling slightly between her fingers.

“So … would you like to use a different—?”

“No,” Juliette grumbled miserably, knowing full well her card would definitely not cover the cost. Plus, she had promised the men proper sleeping arrangements. “It’s fine. But I still don’t want it,” she told Tyson, who said nothing.

When it was time to sign, Tyson scribbled something unintelligible across the slip and passed it back to the cashier. They loaded their things back into the carts and left the mall.

“We need to make a run to the store,” she told the two. “If that’s all right?”

“Yes ma’am,” John said as he and Tyson packed their purchases into the back of the SUV.

It turned out that she would need Killian’s ten grand credit card a second time that day. With five grown men in the house, plus Juliette, Vi and Mrs. Tompkins, her normal tiny grocery bill had blossomed to digits she would never have thought possible if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. The SUV was stuffed in all manner of places, like a game of Tetris until there was just enough room for the three of them to sit, and even then, Juliette was forced to put her feet up on a case of Mac and Cheese.

“Have you heard anything from Killian or Frank?” she asked Tyson as they drove home.

Tyson shook his head. “No ma’am.”

“Do his meetings normally take this long?”

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am.”

Not sure what else to do, she sat back and watched as the city morphed into the quiet of the suburbs. The children were just getting home from school when they finally turned up her street. Phil’s BMW was parked in the driveway, a clear indication that Vi had come straight home rather than go anywhere with her friends … again. It was becoming a habit that was beginning to concern Juliette. It was as odd as the other subtle little changes she wasn’t sure what to do with.

Grabbing several items, she hopped out and hurried inside. The two men from the van, Javier and Laurence, had set up camp in the front room. They had pushed a plastic fold out table against the bay window overlooking the street and sat taking notes. No doubt they knew more about her neighbors than even she did. Neither glanced up when Juliette marched in and made a straight line to the kitchen in the back.

Vi was there, bent over the island, listening to Mrs. Tompkins as the woman went on about some boy she’d known as a girl. The thing that perplexed Juliette beyond reasoning was the fact that Vi was actually listening. No. She was smiling and listening. There wasn’t a sneer or insult in sight.

Across the room, standing straight and immobile, was Phil with his salt and pepper hair, kind blue eyes and built frame. He wore the same navy suit as all of Killian’s men, but he had a folded, white, napkin tucked into the breast pocket of his blazer. He stood watching the scene with a sort of amusement the others never showed. Granted, the others didn’t show much of any emotion. Not even Frank. But Phil had laugh lines around his eyes and a perpetual sort of grin around his mouth. He looked more like someone’s really handsome father than a bodyguard.

“Hey,” Juliette said, taking her bags to the counter and setting them down. “You’re home.”

Vi shrugged. “I had homework.”

It didn’t matter how many times she heard it, the phenomenon never failed to make her want to check Vi’s forehead for a temperature.

“So, did you do it? Your homework.”

Vi gave a brisk bob of her head. “Yup.”

“I watched her do it,” Mrs. Tompkins vouched, kneading a large ball of dough.

Impressed, but severely disturbed, Juliette nodded. “Well, great! I bought groceries so I think I’ll start on supper.”

“You?” Vi blurted, darting up. “You’re going to make supper? Like yourself?”

Juliette scowled. “I have made supper before.”

Vi spun towards Phil. One finger shot out and jabbed straight at Juliette.