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I turned my attention to him and narrowed my eyes. “What are you referring to?”

He smirked, but it lacked all humor. “Are you sick?”

“How did you find out?” I asked.

“So, you are sick?” he asked.

I shrugged. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You haven’t exactly been answering mine either,” he retorted, lighting me on fire with his gaze. His soft brown eyes took me in and made me want to fall into them each and every single time.

“You came to me, remember?” I asked. “I get to lead on this one.”

Guy stood straighter, letting out a long, hot breath through his nose as he moved. His eyes never once left mine. I almost squirmed. “My cousin. Your brother apparently told him about it.”

“I’m going to murder him,” I muttered.

Guy chuckled. “You’ll have to get in line for that one. Ezra has you beat.”

I flicked my glare to him.

He stood back, chuckling under his breath, holding his hands in the air. Despite the humor he was adding to the situation, there was a crease of concern resting between his eyebrows, just above the bridge of his nose.

And the second his smile faded his lips pulled down at the corners. He nodded once. “So. Are you going to fill me in?”

I frowned. I wanted to answer him. To respond, but what could I have said? I didn’t know how to explain what was going on with me much less why I was so sick for so long.

“I don’t know what is going on,” I said, finally. I barely met his gaze.

“But you are sick?” he asked, and it was hard to hear the concern in his voice.

I nodded.

“Cadence,” he started, voice filled with even more concern. “Why haven’t you gotten yourself checked out yet?”

My stomach clenched again. My nerves were shot and that seemed to make my nausea worse, which supported my idea of stress making things worse. This time, I didn’t have time to make it to the bathroom, I had to quickly grab the trash can sitting under the desk and use that to catch anything that came up.

Once my stomach settled, I leaned back and breathed through the cramping centered in my torso.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“At first,” I started, pausing to take a few deep breaths. “I thought it was food poisoning. It happened the day I left the cabin. It just hadn’t stopped since and I’m quite certain it is not food poisoning.”

“I hope not. Food poisoning doesn’t last longer than a week,” Guy said.

I nodded. “I know.”

“How long have you been sick?” he asked. “Three weeks? Four weeks? Consistently, or no?”

I closed my eyes and sighed. Of course, he would ask about that. I shrugged.

“Cadence,” he said, pulling my attention.

I settled my gaze on him. “Yeah?”

“How long?” he asked more seriously. His brown eyes darkened a few shades.

I sighed again and shook my head. “About a month off and on.”


Tags: Lisa Cullen Paranormal