Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,68

other side, grinning.

“I thought I was getting better.” Bryce snorts, not too subtly. “Hey,” I tell him. “I took that one guy down”

“He probably just collapsed laughing,” the kid mumbles under his breath, and Kyle cracks up.

“Fine.” I get up and turn my back to the screen, facing father and son. “I see how it is. I hope both of you memorized the taste of those apple turnovers from this morning, because I’ve decided to take a break from baking. Unless either of you would like to try?”

I grin wide as I walk up the stairs from the basement, leaving the sound of their pitiful lamenting behind me. In the kitchen, I tackle the breakfast dishes I stacked in the sink. There’s a dishwasher, but I find hand-washing dishes therapeutic.

It’s been a great couple of days, with the three of us mostly putzing around the house, except when taking Daisy for her walks. We do that together as well. The guys have tried to teach me that stupid game, but I think I’ll just watch them play, because it’s giving me heart palpitations.

We’ve spent time in the kitchen, the guys watching me bake, and me enjoying a glass of wine while the two of them cook. We’ve watched a few movies, made a few calls, and spent some time talking. Mostly it was Kyle and I sharing stories for Bryce’s benefit—he still hasn’t opened up much about his life—but it feels like we’ve bonded.

What we haven’t done is talk about my stalker, and we also haven’t seen or heard from the Durango PD. A welcome break, but I don’t delude myself into thinking it’s anything other than a short reprieve.

Today is Sunday, and it’s time we figure out how to go forward from here. Kyle’s first shift back starts tomorrow at seven in the morning and I’m going to have to face going back to work at this time is probably not the smartest move. I’ve given up on wearing my contacts, or my glasses. Who I am is bound to come out sooner than later, given the increasing number of people who know.

It’s not like I need the money, which is another thing I should talk to Kyle about, paying my way. I have a feeling we might have some differing ideas on that.

And then of course, Bryce. He’s fourteen, so technically he doesn’t need a babysitter, but he also can’t be expected to look after himself. Not in a strange town, and certainly not with that son of a bitch still out there.

“Were you serious?” Bryce asks, as he grabs a towel to dry. I hadn’t even heard him come up.

“About?” I ask innocently.

“Taking a break from baking? Because I wouldn’t mind learning. I pick things up pretty quick.”

I grin, shooting him a wink.

“Do you know what monkey bread is?”

“My grandma used to make it when I stayed with her.”

I glance over at him and notice Kyle has come up and now stands frozen behind his son. As far as I know, this is more than the boy has shared of his life before he came here.

“Wanna help me make some?” I ask to break through the suddenly uneasy look on the kid’s face.

“Sure,” he says, obviously relieved.

“There’s a bag of flour in the pantry and a jar labeled yeast. Grab those for me?”

The moment he disappears I turn to Kyle and mouth, “Progress.”

Twenty minutes later, Bryce is watching Kyle get his hands dirty to knead the dough. I’m oiling a bowl for it to rise in when one of the phones we left to charge on the counter rings.

“Bryce, you wanna grab that? I think it’s mine,” Kyle says.

I toss the paper towel I used in the trash and go to wash my hands. Behind me I hear Bryce say, “Hello.” When I turn to look at him I see his face has gone pale.

“Kyle,” I call out a warning and he turns to his son too.

“Bryce, who is that?” The boy’s eyes come up to his father, who is trying to get the sticky dough off his hands. “Annie, take the phone,” Kyle orders, and I quickly move toward Bryce, who doesn’t move when I pluck it from his ear.

The moment I hear the semi-hysterical voice of the woman on the other side, I hit speakerphone so Kyle can hear.

“…wasn’t working for me. But like I said I’m strapped, baby. Got nowhere to go now…” My blood boils listening to her whiny voice. Self-centered bitch. “…Brycie?