Chapter 249 – Absent Luna of the Lycan King Novel (Ivy & Kyson)

Filed To Story: Absent Luna of the Lycan King Novel (Ivy & Kyson)

“I am off for a few hours. I will come with you,” Gannon says with a shrug, and Clarice looks at him.

“You want to come grocery shopping with us?” Clarice asks.

“Or you can give me the list, and I will take her,” Gannon says, finishing the last bite of his sandwich be fore taking his plate to the sink. Clarice watches him before she shrugs. “Works for me. I wanted to send Ester, but seeing as she is now preoccupied and you’re willing, you can go with Abbie.”

I watched as she retrieved a pen and paper; she scribbled on it and handed it to me before handing me a keycard. I had seen one before but never used one. Mrs.Daley usually sent us with a list into town but never gave us money. The townspeople would just take the list and bill her at the end of the month.

“Just grab these things. They weren’t on the delivery,” Clarice says with a sigh. She held the list out to me, and I took the list and glanced at her cursive writing and gulped. I chewed my lip, wondering if I should tell her I couldn’t read it, yet I didn’t want to embarrass myself. So I remained quiet, and I figured

I could just ask the clerk at the store. I put the list in my apron pocket as Gannon walks off toward the doors before stopping and waiting for me.

“Are you sure I can leave?” I whispered to Clarice, not wanting to get in trouble with the King. He was the one that put me on that floor, so I could be close to Ivy, yet I hardly saw her.

“Gannon is with you. And as I said. You’re not a prisoner here, Abbie. If you want to go to town, you only have to ask,” Clarice says, confusing me.

“Abbie,” Gannon says, and I hurry over to him, not wanting to anger him. Gannon leads me out of the castle, and I follow a few steps behind him.

“I’m not walking. Come on. I will drive us,” he says, gripping my arm and leading me to some garages at the back of the stables. He rummages in a little cupboard full of keys before finding the ones he was after.

| pause, watching as he moves toward a car. It made me nervous about getting in the car with him. Not that I had any reason to be, and Clarice knew where I was and who I was with, yet unease crept over me at the thought of being in a confined space with the intimidating man.

He opens the driver’s side door before glancing at me. “Abbie?” he says, and I chew my lip before he sighs, walking over to me.

“I don’t bite,” he says, ‘grabbing my hand, and I pull away from him. His brows furrow. I knew these sorts of niceties, and they always led to some expectation.

I knew that better than anyone. The butcher was nice at first, then he started stealing touches, then forcibly taking them until Mrs. Daley told me if I didn’t help him in the basement, she wouldn’t let us eat, promising us food if I just helped him. Panic courses through me. Is that why he was being nice?

Clarice said to steer clear of him, so I found it odd he was trying to be near me. What were his intentions?

“I won’t hurt you, come on,” he says, stepping away and toward his car. He walks around the other side and opens the passenger door.

“Abbie, please get in the car,” he says, and I glance at the roller door leading in. Briefly wondering what my chances of escape were, yet even I knew it would be pointless. If I upset him, what if that got Ivy in trou ble? So I reluctantly did as he asked.

Gannon shut the door behind me, and I jumped at the bang of it before he walked around the other side and climbed in.

| glanced around his car to notice duct tape, rope, and some other equipment that made my heart race faster. You idiot Abbie, I should have run. My fingers trembled as I reached for the door handle as he start ed the car. The movement did not go unmissed by the man, who quickly looked at me before following my gaze to the things on the floor. Gannon leaned over, snatching the crowbar up from the footwell just as I clicked the door handle.

His hand falls on my knee, and my lip quivers as I look at him to find him staring at me.

“Sorry, I should have checked the car beforehand,” he says, leaning down and snatching up the rest of the stuff in the footwell.

My hands trembled as he gathered the things in his arms before opening his door.

“Just work equip ment,” he says, getting out and moving toward another car where he opens the back door. He tosses the stuff on the back floor while I try to calm my racing heart.

What kind of work did he do that required duct tape, rope, and a bloody crowbar? Gannon climbs back in the car. Yet my hand was still on the door handle when he leaned over, pulling my hand away that had a death grip on it. He sets my hand in my lap before quickly closing the door.

“You spook easily,” he mutters more to himself. I watched him as he clipped in his seat belt and turned his attention back to the front. I fiddled with my fingers as he pulled out of the garage while playing with the radio.

“Do you like music?” He asked, and I nodded, chewing on my fingernails. I know it was a terrible habit, but I found comfort in it while he found a station he liked.

I stared out at the scenery as he drove. The drive to town was awkward and silent, and I hadn’t noticed I had chewed one cuticle from my fingertip with my nervousness until Gannon stopped the car and snatched the hand I was chewing on, and made me jump. The man curses under his breath.

He growls, holding my hand up and examining it while I gasped at what I mindlessly had done, not real izing I had chewed it entirely down to the flesh beneath. He clicks his tongue and curses before reaching into the glove box, where he pulls out a tissue. Gannon wraps it around my fingertip, holding pressure on it.

“You didn’t feel that you had bitten it off?” He asked. Disapproval is clearly on his face. I don’t answer. I hardly felt pain, especially mediocre pain like that. It was merely a flesh wound, and it would heal quickly enough.

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