BOOK 3 of the ORPHIC Series
CHURLISH
/ˈCHərliSH/
marked by a lack of civility.
~~~~~
Lucille 'Lucy' Opal Baker finds herself in the 21 century sporting the title of Aunt while lugging along h...
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"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Bucharest, Romania March, 2016
LUCY PACED IN FRONT OF their single dingy mattress on the floor, lips pursing with concern and worry as her phone seemed to ring endlessly on the table. As soon as the ringing stopped, she stepped back in front of the kitchen island, clicked the button to restart the ringing, and went back to her infinite pacing.
James watched her with his back pressed against the wall, sitting on the floor with one arm leaning on a raised leg. He couldn't help but feel concerned for her as the anxiety in her chest seemed to reverberate throughout the room. He wondered if she felt betrayed by Rumlow—the Commander really only cared about Rollins, so he didn't think his actions were very surprising.
The sound of rustling clothes caught his attention and his eyes immediately darted to the very unwelcome presence of Kabul, pressed against the corner of their apartment with his hands cuffed in black shards. He held his hands up in surrender as he shifted to sit more comfortably.
Blood was still on his face.
"I don't think your friend's gonna pick up." Kabul muttered.
James opened his mouth, then shut it with a scowl.
He couldn't help but agree with him—Lucy was trying to call Jack for the 28th time. It was becoming excessive and simultaneously useless.
Besides, James was starting to get slightly irritated by the constant ringing echoing throughout the room.
Lucy glanced at Kabul, before releasing a long breath and snatching up her phone from the counter.
She ended the unsuccessful call, leaning against the kitchen island as she thought rapidly to herself. Neither Jack nor Brock had picked up her numerous calls, but Lucy knew Jack didn't want to fight anymore.
So what had happened between them?
Brock needed Jack, and Jack needed him. They went together because they were good for each other. They could handle each other's toughness, each other's bluntness. She didn't want to know what Brock was like without Jack by his side.
She tapped her fingers against the faux granite.
"Um. . .since you're not asking me questions and I don't know anything else. . ." Kabul started, breaking the silence slowly, hesitantly. ". . .can I. . .uh. . .can I like. . .go?"
