Shadow's Kiss (Monstrous Hearts: Fleur's Story)

Chapter Twenty-Three

She missed him immediately.

It wasn't anything unbearable. It wasn't even like the crushing confusion and grief she'd experienced in the first months after Hayley had turned on her. But it was constant and startling. She didn't like moving throughout rooms knowing he wouldn't be there.

She couldn't even blame it on the lack of sex. Saying 'good girl' to herself didn't do anything, but all their sessions had given her enough ideas to jack off to hard orgasms anytime she wanted. She felt as good afterwards as always, but her heart twinged weirdly at being alone in the bed.

Amazingly, she kept up pretty well with the housework and feeding herself. Those chores she always hated, like unloading the dishwasher or folding laundry, no longer made her angry enough to scream. Maybe it was just because they had become habits, but she also viewed them differently than before. Dirty laundry was simply something to pick up. It didn't have to be an argument. It didn't need any larger meaning than clean clothes feeling a little nicer against her skin. The spite of living like a slob wasn't as satisfying now that she realized it was still just a reaction controlled by the Hayley-shaped hole left in her life instead of a fuck you toward it. Or maybe she was tired of her old bad habits and how quietly miserable they had been.

That didn't mean she returned to picture-perfect ways, just that the difference in her had gone far deeper than being fucked on the kitchen counter to convince her that unloading the dishwasher didn't have to be avoided after all.

That evening, while coming back from a run, she almost missed the house phone. Still breathless, she picked it up in the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Fleur, honey." Her mother's voice crackled through.

"Hi, Mom. How are things?"

"Good! We're at sea right now. Our last stop was in Dubai. I just wanted to call and see how you were."

"I'm fine. Things are fine."

"How did registering for classes go?"

"Good. I got all the ones I wanted and needed." She pulled on her shirt to fan herself.

"Fiona told me you're taking a trip to the coast with her the day after tomorrow. I'm so glad you're getting out of the house." The relief in her mother's voice was palpable.

"Mm-hm." Fleur paced around the kitchen, half from feeling the muscles in her legs twitch from cooling down, and half because she still didn't know how to talk to her mom. Finally, she said, "Is everything okay? You sound worried."

"Oh, no, we're fine. And we're very glad you're fine, too. Your father's right here. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Sure."

"Fleur." Her father's brisk tone was a complete contrast to her mother's. "Any problems so far?"

"No. Everything's been good."

"All right. Just make sure you set the security system tonight and that it's on when you leave. Someone in your mother's wine club lost their son recently, and she's been worried about your safety."

So, that was why she had sounded so concerned. Fleur flopped on the living room couch with a sigh. "What happened to him?"

"Murdered, but he wasn't living anywhere near here. He was down in Laguna Beach. You might remember his parents—Rich and Margitta James. I doubt you ever talked to their kids. They were all older by several years."

It felt like the couch disappeared from underneath her. "Logan James is dead?"

"Yes." Her father sounded vaguely surprised. "He died last night. So you knew him?"