Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (read book .txt) 📕

for any sign of warmth. Heck, not even a congrats on the marriage? “She didn’t say congratulations, or ask how you were.” My annoyance at my new mother-in-law builds. She has to know Patrick is unhappy about the news, and yet there’s nothing in there to try to comfort him, or even acknowledge his feelings. Rude.

“That’s her. Brisk and to the point.” He takes the letter back and tosses it onto his bedside table. “I think I need a run this morning. Will you be okay here on your own if I go out and clear my head?” He gives me a lackluster smile, nothing like his usual boundless cheer, and I hate to see how hard he’s hit by this whole situation.

“Of course. I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back.” I pucker my lips, and he leans over and kisses me, but it’s brief, with none of the usual heat I’ve come to expect between us these days.

Patrick’s only been gone on his run five minutes when an excited pounding comes at the door. Assuming it’s Glitch with some update for us, I hurry over only to find a windswept Nell.

“Sadie! We heard the news. So, you and Patrick are officially royal now. How does it feel? Do you get a tiara? Are you carrying a royal heir yet?” She gestures with wild enthusiasm at my unchanged midsection.

“Would you hush and get in here?” I grab her by the arm and haul her into the house. She doesn’t protest, just walks right in, and sits on a bar stool. I look around, but thankfully our cottages are all well-spaced, and there’s no one in sight to have overheard her.

“Have you got any cookies? Yours are way better than the ones in the guest house.”

I shake my head at her presumption but pull a few cookies I’d baked yesterday out and put them on a plate for her.

She takes a huge bite before continuing. “So, I take it that you two weren’t happy about the royal news last night?” A crumb falls out of her mouth and lands on the counter.

“No, not so much. Neither of us wants to be royal, or political. We just want . . . normalcy.” I sigh. “But, I think that ship has sailed.” I watch in morbid fascination as she grabs the errant piece of cookie with her thumb and pops it back into her mouth.

“Yeah, that’s not really an option anymore. But, hey, why be normal when you can be a princess? You are a princess now, right?”

I don’t answer, instead I cross to the fridge and pull out a bottle of milk and pour it into a short glass for her. Handing her the glass, I drum my fingers on the countertop restlessly. “It’s all too fresh, Nell. I don’t know anything yet, and I am worried about Patrick. He didn’t take the news well at all—you should have seen him last night. It was the first time I’ve ever seen him look rattled.”

“He is a pretty easy-going guy most of the time,” she agrees while dipping her second cookie into the glass of milk.

“Yes, he is. When those kidnappers came to the NLC, he was cool as a cucumber. I don’t know how to handle this side of Patrick.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s the first time you’ve seen it. We’re all newlyweds, after all.” She says it so matter-of-factly, it helps ease the tension in my shoulders.

I turn and grab a cookie for myself before answering, “You’re right, this is all so new. I wish I knew how to help him. What to do, you know? So far, all I’ve done is bake everything in sight.”

“It’s okay, he’s a runner. He won’t lose his hot bod before the honeymoon’s over.”

“Who’s got a hot bod?” Atlas’s voice rumbles from the entryway, and I jump a mile high.

Nell spins on her barstool towards the sound of his voice, and gives him a salacious grin. “I’ll never tell.”

He smirks, clearly not concerned with her inspecting someone else’s physique. “Oh, you’ll tell. Or I won’t let you drive,” he says, waving a short key with a black rubber grip in front of her face.

“Ooh, does that mean they’re here?” Nell claps her hands like a little kid on Christmas morning. In that moment, I’m reminded exactly how young she is.

Atlas nods. “When Patrick’s back, we can take them for a spin. If you’re done with your cookies, that is.”

“I think I’m good; I had two. Although, one for the road wouldn’t hurt.” She turns back to me, and I hand her and Atlas each a cookie in a napkin.

“Those are the last two, so don’t rush it. I’ll make more later.”

“Yes, Mom,” she sing-songs back at me.

I’m shaking my head at her antics when I hear an ear-splitting boom break through the peaceful morning.

“What was that?” I ask, but Atlas is already in motion.

“Get in the bathroom, and lock the door. Don’t open it unless Patrick or I tell you to!” By the time the front door slams behind him, Nell is already on her feet and around the counter. She grabs me by the wrist, and we race down the hall to the bathroom.

My hands shake as I lock the door, and another boom sounds close enough to shake the cottage.

“Get in the tub!” Nell urges, and we both clamber in.

“Why are we in the tub?” I ask, after we’re in it. Thankfully it’s a large soaker tub, so we both fit with our knees up.

“Extra protection from stray gunshots,” she tells me, voice tight.

I reach out and grip one of her hands, and she squeezes mine back tightly. “I don’t think those are gunshots, way too massive—the whole cottage is shaking. Did Atlas teach you that?”

“Yes, after the first kidnapping attempt. He was barking orders left and right and took me straight to my room and shoved me into the bathroom and told me to lay down in the tub until he