“I think we can do that.”
He sat there with me all day. He helped me get up and cleaned up. Then we walked up and down the hallways. Finally, around six, a nurse came in with my discharge paperwork. I was going home.
Chapter Forty
“This is the last box,” I said bumping the door closed with my hip.
“For a girl who had one room, you have a lot of stuff.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll eventually throw some of it out,” I put the box on top of the others, which covered almost an entire wall in Connor’s apartment.
Our penthouse.
“Well hurry up and get ready. Sasha and Brian are meeting us at The Lounge tonight.”
“Do you really think I’m going to get in?” I asked while walking toward the bedroom.
“I know the owner.”
“Is there anyone in this city you don’t know?”
“I don’t think so,” he laughed.
My pink and white vanity didn’t really match the décor of the bedroom, but there it sat near the window. I dried my hair while staring out at the setting sun. The pinks, oranges, and purples stretched across the sky. The people of Pittsburgh, the police, and the suburbs had no idea what happened in the yard at my mother's house two short weeks ago. They didn’t know about the twenty naked people who were arrested for terrorizing my mother, they didn’t know about me being flown in to UPMC Presbyterian after an apparent dog attack, and nobody thought twice about Anna. Connor told me people showed up for the funeral and that was it. She became yesterday’s news. Even though we were fighting at the time of her death, I missed her terribly. It felt odd not having her just show up at my house whenever she felt like.
“Are you okay?” Connor asked wrapping his wet body around me.
“I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“About Anna?”
I nodded.
“It’ll get easier with time. You never really forget them, but the pain subsides a bit.”
I got up and went to the closet. A white clothes bag hung next to Connor’s black button up shirt and black slacks. I pulled it out and lay it on the bed then dug around for the shoes. They weren’t the rhinestone covered ones from the fight, those were lost in fairy tale world with the wolf; these ones were black, satin peep toe. I figured they would look nice with the red dress I had found while out shopping with Sasha a few days back.
“That is an amazing dress.”
“You say that about everything I wear,” I chuckled.
“You look amazing in everything.”
***
As we approached the entrance of the club I saw Sasha’s bright smiling face, and she was with a guy. A rather good looking guy actually. She had on a short red, off the shoulder dress and black pumps. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head, and she had bright red lips. Her date was wearing a red, silk shirt and black slacks. His sandy colored hair was slicked back, and he had incredible green eyes.
She ran up to Connor and I hugging each of us.
We stood near a table sipping our cocktails and laughing while listening to the music. Some of the people went all out for Valentine’s Day, wearing elaborate costumes. We were all having an amazingly great time when Connor’s face just dropped. He turned stone white, and I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.
“What’s wrong?” I looked around to see what could be wrong.
“Unbelievable,” he sighed.
“Is everything okay?” Sasha shouted over the music.
“I’m not sure,” I said still looking around.
“Things aren’t over, Abs.” he said in my ear.
“What?” I looked for a wolf, for anything.
“Over in the corner,” I followed to where he was pointing.
I saw nothing but a guy hidden in the shadows. His Valentine’s outfit was a bit over the top, but otherwise, he was just some guy.
“Do you remember the story about Snow White?”
“Uh, yeah. Why?”
“That’s the Prince,” Connor groaned.
I watched as the man emerged from the shadows. Light flashed across his face, my heart sunk to the pit of my stomach, and I felt the bile rising in my stomach. Tears stung my eyes, and I hoped it was just the liquor playing tricks on my eyes.
“Prince? What Prince?”
“From Snow White,” he said.
“That’s the Prince? The guy walking this way?”
“Yes.”
“That’s no Prince.”
“How do you know?” Connor asked.
“Because that’s the face of my father.”
“Your father? How do you know? He looks so young.”
“He looks just like he does in the wedding picture on my mom’s desk.”
The man stopped at the table and stared into my eyes, we had the same icy blue eyes.
“Hello, Abigail.”
“Hi, dad,” I said meekly.
“There’s a problem,” he said.
“There sure as hell is. You’re supposed to be dead.”
###
About the Author
H.L Wampler is the author of The Last Grimm series. She is a fan of fairy tales and decided, one day, to put her own spin on a few of her favorites. H. L. lives with her family in the fabulous city of Pittsburgh, Pa. The city where her stories are based.
Connect with me online
Twitter - http://twitter.com/pghhousewife
My blog: http://hlwampler.wordpress.com
My blog 2: http://thepittsburghhousewife.wordpress.com
My Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/hwampler
/profile/view/hwampler
Table of Contents
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
Chapter ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter twelve
Chapter thirteen
Chapter fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter sixteen
Chapter seventeen
Chapter eighteen
Chapter nineteen
Chapter twenty
Chapter twenty-one
Chapter twenty-two
Chapter twenty-three
Chapter twenty-four
Chapter twenty-five
Chapter twenty-six
Chapter twenty-seven
Chapter twenty-eight
Chapter twenty-nine
Chapter thirty
Chapter thirty-one
Chapter thirty-two
Chapter thirty-three
Chapter-thirty-four
Chapter thirty-five
Chapter thirty-six
Chapter thirty-seven
Chapter thirty-eight
Chapter thirty-nine
Chapter forty
Chapter Fifteen
The Last Grimm_Red's Hood Page 18
