I Faked My Death, and the Alpha at My Grave Has Lost His Wolf novel · Chapter 17 of 24
Chapter 17: A Plate of Kolaches
Anton stopped the truck at the mailbox and put his hand on the door.
"Stay here," I said.
"Zora."
"Hands on the wheel, Anton. Please."
He looked at the porch, and at the rifle hanging in the rack across Frank's rear window, and then at me.
"If he touches you," Anton said.
"He never has and he won't. He kisses cheeks."
"I can't hear from here."
"I know," I said. "I'll tell you after."
It cost him something to take his hand off the door.
I watched it cost him, and I got out of the truck anyway.
I walked up the drive with my coat open over my stomach.
Babi did not look at me.
She kept her eyes on Frank and the twelve-gauge across her knees.
"Mrs. Pospisil," Frank said, pleasantly, from the step. "That's an old gun. It might go off by accident."
"It shoots straight, Frank," said Babi. "I used it on your father's dog."
I stopped at the bottom of the steps.
Frank stood up, slowly, with the plate in both hands.
The kolaches on it were apricot, dusted with sugar, and still faintly warm.
"Honey," he said. "I came to apologize."
"For what?" I said.
"For the pull-out. Rudy tells me it got out of hand. The gin foreman is a fool."
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–12 of I Faked My Death, and the Alpha at My Grave Has Lost His Wolf are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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