Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 92

I wake with a start, the remnants of last night’s chaotic bullshittery still swirling around in my head like a storm that won’t quit. My mind feels heavy, and if I’m being honest, my body feels like I got hit by a Mack truck–repeatedly. But it’s Sunday, and despite everything, I refuse to let my mood spiral. Not today, Satan.

I turn over in bed, groaning as I feel the familiar discomfort of what feels akin to a hangover, except I didn’t even drink much last night. Just too many emotions, apparently. So much emotional turmoil, really, that it’s like I woke up with a permanent frown on my face

But hey, I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse. So, I sit up, stretching out my sore limbs, and roll my neck with a series of pops that make me feel like I’m ten years older. It’s almost as if my body has been through some ancient battle.

With a fortifying breath, I decide that today is going to be about me and getting my mental health back to where I’m a woman who adults every now and then, with no broody vampires in sight.

My signature sass is already creeping back in, and I can’t help but smile, feeling the familiar sarcasm bubble up. The only thing I need to focus on today is myself, a little peace, and maybe a decent cup of coffee. Preferably two,

I shuffle down to the kitchen, where I know I’ll find the sustenance I need to face this day. I’m not a morning person, but coffee? Coffee has the Jability to turn me into a semi–functional human. I fix myself a cup, slurping it down in record time. Damn, I could have used a more potent brew,

but it’ll do, for now,

A second cup later, and I’m getting dressed. Maybe it’s the sunshine outside, maybe it’s just the realization that I’ve been so caught up in the drama of the past week that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a normal day. I toss on something cute. Nothing too fancy, but enough to make me feel like I’m putting some effort in for a change. A comly mint green sweater, curve-

e–hugging jeans, and ankle boots. A simple outfit for a trip to the farmer’s market. I don’t know if I’ll buy anything, but it’ll be a change of scenery, and right now, that’s exactly what I need.

The sun is shining, and it feels like a small victory, even if it’s the kind of victory that doesn’t actually fix the shitshow inside my head.

But, whatever. I’m not thinking about last night. I’m not thinking about him. I won’t let myself. Not right now, anyway. Not when my mind keeps trying to pull me into that whirlwind. No, today is Harley–day, not vampire–drama day.

I check my phone one last time for any important messages, throw my sling bag over my shoulder, and grab my keys. The moment my hand touches the doorknob, I hear the faintest of knacks.

But curiosity gets the best of me, and I swing open the door without thinking too ‘much about it. And standing in the doorway, looking more like he’s prepared to wage war than have a civil conversation…is Thane.

His signature black–on–black suit is gone, replaced with something more casual–dark jeans, a black golf tee, and a leather jacket–but he still looks effortlessly intimidating.

Before I can open my mouth and ask him what the hell he’s doing here, he takes the two steps up onto my landing and comes to a standstill on the other side of my threshold with no warning or hesitation.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify