Broken Dreams(38)

Nick and Nate started stirring, and I could hear Claire take a deep breath behind me.

“Oh, how I’ve missed my bestie!” She kept kissing him on his cheeks. I pretty much wanted to throat punch her.

I just stood there, glaring. Finally, I let out a fake cough. She stopped slobbering all over my man, and looked at Claire. “You must be Elaina. Pleasure to meet you.” She smiled a huge, perfect, toothy grin, like the Cheshire Cat.

“Ah, no. That’s Claire, her best friend.” Henry gestured toward me. “This is my beautiful Elaina.” Sophie looked me up and down with a critical eye. I felt violated, and a bit dirty.

Her eyes were the same color as Henry’s. It was odd to me because I had never seen that color to begin with, and the hooker shows up with the same color eyes? I parked that in the back of my brain for the moment. I knew I would be asking about that at another point in time.

“Ah, okay. Well…hello, Elaina.” She stuck her hand out to me.

I got the feeling that she didn’t think I was good enough for Henry, or Liam, or Luke, or whatever the fuck his name was. I just looked at her hand, and she finally put it back at her side.

“And whose are these?” She pointed toward Nick and Nate, like they were belongings.

“Umm, that’s Nick.” Nick lifted his hand and looked at me with a raised brow. I think he understood that I was less than pleased about Sophie’s arrival, and I’m pretty sure he felt the same. “And that’s Nate.” Nate gave her a half smile, while looking her up and down.

“Relations?”

“Nick is Elaina’s brother, and Nate is…I mean, was our wedding coordinator. Christ.” Henry looked down for a second. I knew he started thinking about the previous day’s events.

“Very good then. Well, hello, everybody. I’m Sophie Jackson.” She nodded and smiled. I didn’t like her. She rubbed me the wrong way. “Henry, darling, I need some assistance with my trunk and bags.”

“Alright. Nick, will you cover us?”

“Yeah, sure.” He got up, put on his shirt, and picked up the Sig Henry issued him. He walked over to me, gave me a pat on the back, and followed behind. I turned around and looked at Claire.

“Wow.” Claire didn’t seem too amused, either. “Did you see what she was wearing? Totally inappropriate for undead killing.”

“I think her ‘ladies’ were about to burst out of that top.” Nate chuckled at my statement. I admit it, I was jealous. She was beautiful, and looked like a Barbie. “Would it be bad to throat punch her? I really wanted to, after her hooker ass was slobbering all over my man,” I growled.

“No offense, but I’m thinking she could take you out in a second, especially if she’s trained like Henry.” Claire was always the voice of reason.

“Probably,” I sighed. Then we heard gunshots coming from just outside the apartment. “Shit!” I ran over to the window. There was a small herd of undeads coming at Henry, Nick, and the hooker. “Should we go out there?!”

“I don’t know,” Claire and Nate said in unison. Then I saw Sophie start laughing. That bitch was mental to the maximum. She grabbed something small out of her trunk and tossed it at the undeads.

“I think that’s a --.” The explosion was intense. The window cracked and some of the pieces of glass fell to the ground. The concussion pushed the three of us back and to the floor. It rattled me to the core. Bits and pieces of undeads splattered on what was left of the window.

“Holy fuck!” My stomach decided to revolt again. I almost didn’t make it to the sink before I lost what little food was left in me.

I heard Claire yell, “Check the door!” I worked hard to gather myself and stumbled out of the kitchen.

“What happened?” I slurred my words a bit as I stumbled passed Nate.

“You tossed your cookies,” Nate said.

“Thank you. I figured that one out myself.” He didn’t appreciate my attitude. “Grab your weapon. Claire, let’s do this.” I forced myself to focus.

“Got it.”

“And what do you want me to do?” Nate was even more annoyed.

“Stand there and look pretty?”

“I don’t need to stand to look pretty, honey.” Too bad Nate wasn’t facing me so he couldn’t see me roll my eyes from there to Seattle. The handle on the door jiggled. Claire readied herself to open it.

“Are you bit?!” I yelled.

“What if I am?” Great. It was the hooker.

“I’ll paint the wall behind you with your blood and brains!” My stomach churned, but I was serious. She cackled. Really? She really was mental. “Are you bit?!” I yelled again.