Chapter 22
The kitchen was alive with the shrill scream of a kettle, its steam venting like a mini- volcano, until the heat was turned off, and quiet fell.
Jerry gazed anxiously upstairs, wanting to go up, but the housekeeper held his hand and said, “Don’t interfere. A couple’s spat is their business.”
“But that noise…” Jerry hesitated.
Ignoring his protest, she turned the heat back on and carefully added the oats to the bubbling water, and soon, it exuded a sweet scent. “What’s up with the noise? If Elizabeth really didn’t want to, she could easily take down Frank. I’m more curious about the scratches on your face.”
Those scratches were shocking by the sight.
Jerry covered his face with humiliation. He wouldn’t tell anyone that he had been hit by
a woman.
If it weren’t for trying to stop Joanna, he wouldn’t have ended up with a face that looked like it went through a war zone. Joanna was a harpy, and the memory still sent a shiver down his spine.
Lost in thought, they didn’t notice someone standing behind them.
“Hey!” A voice rang out, giving them a sudden jolt.
The housekeeper and Jerry stood frozen in sync, then both turned back together. “You little rascal, trying to scare me out of my skin, huh?” she teased.
This housekeeper had watched Sharon and Franklin grow up, so they had a close bond. She playfully patted Sharon, who chuckled while leaning closer. “Caught you sneaking around, huh? Just a bit of playful teasing. Sorry for the fright!”
Then Sharon glanced at Jerry.
Noticing her intense stare, Jerry quickly turned away, but Sharon forcibly twisted him back. Seeing his face, Sharon’s mouth was wide open in surprise. “What’s with this whole get–up?”
The housekeeper joined in with a chuckle at Sharon’s remark. “You’re totally pulling off the cat look.”
“Yeah, you’re spot–on!” Sharon agreed with the housekeeper’s comment
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He looks exactly like a cat now, the housekeeper teased.
a
Theit banter made Jerry cringe with embarrassment. Grabbing some fruit, he tried to make a quick escape upstairs. “I… uh, I’ll go check upstairs,”
The door was firmly shut and locked, a barrier to the world inside. The early morning light hadn’t yet brightened the room. The rain from the night before had left a thin layer of ice on the eaves, a cold reminder of the late fall morning.
From his vantage point, Franklin could see the foggy white of the window, not snow, but almost as pure.
Beneath him, Elizabeth was holding back tears, her sadness seeming forced. But it was Franklin who had the right to feel wronged, with fresh tooth marks on his neck, aching with pain.
“Elizabeth, are you a dog?” Franklin shouted.
Elizabeth licked the blood off her lips, threatening with insecurity, “Keep it up, and I’ll tell my brother.”
Franklin’s neck and cheeks stung intensely. He didn’t know Elizabeth had such a
rebellious nature. He thought marriage would have tamed her, but she had only hidden her claws, ready to strike when needed.
“What can he do? Hit me?” Franklin sneered, knowing full well that Lawson and he were exactly on the same side of the fence.
One was openly wicked, and the other was slyly mischievous.”
Franklin, with a press of his tongue against his cheek, held Elizabeth’s chin firmly. He leaned in, causing her to close her eyes in anticipation, but instead of a kiss, he whispered in her ear, his voice soft yet electrifying.
“He’d be thrilled to hand you over to me. Guess what he’ll do, stick with you or switch to my side?” Franklin said softly.
‘Damn jerk. They are all jerks,‘ Elizabeth cursed inwardly.
Elizabeth’s face fell, her sadness now tinged with a touch of desperation. “I want to see my mom,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Franklin smiled. “Elizabeth, that’s Lawson’s mom, not yours. You’re all alone in this. Need me to remind you of that?”
He wanted to remind her that besides the Jones residence, she had nowhere else to
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Chapter 22
turn.
