Hardboiled: Not Your Average Detective Story (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 5) Read Free Page B

be too pleased if my boyfriend, Caleb, was walking through the halls of his school the first day holding hands with a girl he’d just met. It might give me the wrong idea, and surely, that feeling would be mutual.
    I sighed. I hadn’t even spoken to Caleb since right after my mom died… and our last words had been a fight. I’d been in the wrong, I could admit that now, but at the time… well let’s just say out of the two of us only one was basically a god. Of the two of us, only one could have stopped time and saved my mom from bleeding out on the ground like a stuck pig. And he didn’t do it. Instead, like the bastard he was, he had let her die. My boyfriend, the god of space and time, had let my mother die when he could have saved her. I gritted my teeth. Okay, maybe I wasn’t over it.
    I shook my head, dismissing the horrible memory and tried to be positive as Connor strolled up to me and took me by the hand. “Miss me?” he asked, pulling me down the hallway toward what I assumed was the exit.
    “I don’t think we should be holding hands,” I said, trying to yank my fingers away. “Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I just met you. We aren’t even in a relationship where I’d think it was appropriate for friendly hand holding.”
    He released my hand and ran his now empty hand through his mop of semi-green hair. “Is this where you say that your boyfriend is really buff and could beat me up?” he asked, pale amber eyes sparkling.
    I grinned. I hadn’t been about to say that, but now that I thought about it, it was pretty much true. My boyfriend was over six feet tall and built like a professional athlete. He also was an expert swordsman and had actually mastered the control of fire. He was all that before he became fused with the god of time and space. So… yeah, he could probably take on Connor.
    “I wasn’t going to say that, per se,” I replied, smiling stupidly at him.
    “Good, because I’d hate to go all Kung Fu on him,” Connor said, shoving open the heavy door with his shoulder as he turned to look at me. “Have I mentioned I am a master of Kung Fu, Karate, and like six other Japanese words?”
    “You haven’t,” I said, trying not to smile even though it was a little funny. “Although I think Kung Fu is Chinese.”
    “See, I’m a multicultural badass,” Connor replied, holding the door open for me. “Your boyfriend wouldn’t want to mess with me.”
    I shook my head, shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight filtering through the trees in the front of the school. “I’ll let him know,” I said, fishing out my sunglasses and putting them on.
    “So… do you know how to get home, or do you need someone to walk with you?” he asked, glancing away nonchalantly.
    “Smooth, sir. You sir are smooth,” I said, glancing down the street. I’d been about to say something but my jaw fell open, and I stared wide-eyed in horror. Walking toward me in a wife-beater, cowboy hat, and dress slacks was my father. He had a huge cigar tucked into his mouth, which was odd, because he didn’t smoke.
    I felt my heart start to hammer as I turned back toward Connor, but before I could say anything, my father clapped his scarred hand on my shoulder.
    “Hi there,” my dad growled, pulling the cigar from his mouth and smiling at Connor. “Would you like some candy?”
    That was pretty much when I was sure I had died. If I hadn’t, it was going to happen pretty freaking soon. The cause? Advanced mortification.
    Connor stared at my father for half a second, before a grin crossed his lips. “Is it in your van?” he asked. “Because I only take candy from strange men in vans. No van, no candy. It’s my rule.”
    I’ll admit it. I almost laughed. Partially from Connor, but mostly from the look that flew across my father’s face at breakneck speed. It was a cross between surprise and amusement. It was a look that melted into, “well, two can play this game.”
    “Dad, this is Connor.