Free House of the Rising Sun by Kristen Painter Page B

in a very certain way, with a very certain style. One Harlow had long ago forsaken. What would her life have been like if she’d let the issue of her father drop when she was a teenager? Would she be someone different now? Would she have embraced her fae side?
    What would her life have been like if she’d known her father? Had a parent who understood her need to be
human
? Because she was sure her father was strictly human for no other reasonthan that she’d believed it for so long it had become part of his canon. Part of why she denied her fae side as much as she did. Part of why she clung to being human. His human blood in her veins was the only thing of him she had. Her only connection.
    And she was about to give up any chance of solidifying that connection to save her own skin. That was if her mother wouldn’t hold the years of estrangement against her, but that hope was as thin as the whole in her heart was large.
    Feeling like a traitor to the father she’d never known, she stood in front of the big, leaded-glass doors and lifted her hand to knock. She was trembling a little. Not because she was afraid to see her mother, but because real-life confrontation on this scale scared the breath out of her. Online she was a warrior. In person… not so much. As she rapped her knuckles on the glass, she wished she could do this wearing her mask from last night. There was such comfort in anonymity.
    An older African-American woman came to the door. The housekeeper and her mother’s companion. Eulalie, if Harlow remembered correctly. She opened the door. “Can I help you, miss?” Then her mouth went slack and she blinked hard. Her hand went to her throat. “Miss Harlow?”
    Harlow nodded. “Hello, Eulalie. Is my mother home?”
    “Lands, child. I cannot believe—” Eulalie smoothed the skirt of her flowered dress and straightened. “She sure is. We’re just fixin’ to have breakfast. You come on in now.” She opened the door wider.
    “I’d rather wait here.” Something about entering her mother’s house without her mother knowing about it didn’t feel right. She’d wait until Olivia invited her in. If that happened.
    Eulalie didn’t close the door. “All right then. I’ll go fetch her.”
    “Thanks.” She sat in one of the rockers to wait, the smoky scent of bacon and strong coffee wafting out from the houseand making her stomach grumble with upset. It was probably a combination of last night’s alcohol and this morning’s nerves, coupled with the sense that she was about to lose her father.
    But she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t another man on her mind as well. The man who’d kissed her. Man, fae, whatever he was. She rolled her eyes. If she wanted a memory to take to prison, she’d certainly gotten herself one.
    Why on earth had she decided to pick a guy who was fae? Silly female hormones. Sure, what she’d been able to see of him—and feel of him—had been undeniably amazing, but fae? His kiss had poured emotions into her she’d never expected to feel. The way his desire to possess her had just poured into her veins… she shivered at the memory, trying unsuccessfully to shut it out. To make matters worse, she’d dreamed of him, her bare hands gripping those horns of his while he—she blew out a hard breath in an attempt to alleviate the rising flush of warmth.
    At least she’d never have to see him again. Whether her mother said yes or no about the money, she was going home today. If the CCU found out she’d left the state, she’d be in worse trouble than she already was.
    A soft inhale brought her head up. Olivia stood on the porch, eyes liquid in a way Harlow hoped meant good things. “Harlow?”
    She stood, her heart bumping against her rib cage in an attempt to break free. Her gut said run. Instead, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. “Hi. Mom.” The word tasted so strange. “It’s nice to see you.” It was. She hadn’t seen Olivia in a long