Free Leaving Annalise (Katie & Annalise Book 2) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

couple of microphone stands and some sound equipment. I had painted it a cool aqua and the windows gave it an abundance of eastern morning light. Tall, narrow cathedral windows lined two sides of the room and a big flamboyant tree right outside the front windows provided shade. The peacock flower was the best tree in the yard, and the view out the window was through its leaves and orangish-pink fronds into the valley beyond. Ava and I had tested the acoustics in the room and found them perfect. I could picture Nick and me there, instruments around us, hand-written music and lyrics on a yellow pad in front of us.
    “You’ve got room for my bass stand in this corner,” he said. “We could write some music together, you know. Are you any good with lyrics? Because I’m hopeless.”
    Now my heart did explode, shooting out millions of sparks that became yellow butterflies descending into lazy circles in my stomach. I threw my arms around him.
    “Was that a hug or a tackle?”
    “Both. I have to make sure you don’t run away.”
    “I’m not planning on it.” He hugged me even tighter, but I didn’t complain. This is what John Mellenkamp meant, I thought. Hurt so good, for real. But it got better when Nick said, “I can’t even tell you how all of this amazes me, how you amaze me. I can see the mark of you everywhere in here. And it’s not just that, Katie. I can see what you’ve done with yourself. I’ve always had a thing for you, you know that,” which I hadn’t ever been sure of, but was really glad to hear, “but still, you’ve surprised me. In a good way.”
    I had no words. I just tried not to cry as I said, “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    I soaked him in, the setting, our connection, the universe spread out around us, and the sensation of my heart so large and buoyant it was floating above us like the sun. It was pretty darn wonderful. Day one of the rest of our lives. I inhaled with my eyes closed, memorizing the moment, and prayed nothing would come along to screw it up.

Chapter Twelve
    We walked back into the kitchen just as Rashidi entered it from top of the stairs to the basement, where he kept up a temporary bedroom.
    “Good morning,” he said.
    “Good morning, Rashidi. Did you find my keys?”
    “No, sorry.”
    “Rats. Well, do you remember Nick?”
    “Yah mon,” he said.
    To Nick, I said, “That’s how it sounds when someone from the islands says it.”
    Rashidi walked toward Nick with his open hand raised outward at chest height and chimed in, “Not-Bart, you sure you know what you getting into with this one? She got a smart mouth on her and she known to do some crazy things.”
    I cringed at the “Not-Bart,” but Nick didn’t. He raised his hand and he and Rashidi clasped them and leaned in for a chest bump, some kind of secret man-bro handshake ritual. Having no testicles myself, I have never had the urge to greet someone by pretending I’m about to wrestle them to the ground.
    “What she needs is a strong man and a firm hand,” Nick said, and he ducked before my swat even came near his head.
    “Good luck with that, meh son,” Rashidi said.
    Everybody was laughing when a BOOM rocked the house. It literally shook the walls, which was a mighty trick since they were an eight-inch-thick mass of cement poured into concrete blocks. Dust flew. I heard the flapping of wings and saw through the rear window hundreds of bats take flight in broad daylight from under the eaves.
    In the aftermath, I saw that everyone had crouched to take cover but me. I’d run and put my ear to the wall. Annalise’s wail was unmistakable, and painful to hear. What in the hell was happening?
    “Everyone all right?” Rashidi asked from the floor.
    In the background, I heard male voices answering him, but I blocked them out. Nick’s face appeared close in front of mine, and I held up one finger. I put my forehead against the wall and felt waves of anguish shoot through me.
    “What is it,