You call this fate?

Chapter 17

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it.

"What happened?" Tasha asked 

"He's coming over."

She looked up, shocked. "What? Why?"

"I don't know! He just told me he was and hung up." I looked at her, absolutely freaking out, my heart pounding against my chest. "What am I supposed to do? The house is a mess!"

"That's what you are thinking about?" Tasha wanted to know. "Why would he come here now? Have you seen the time?"

"I have! I didn't invite him." Why was everything always my fault?

"Well, call him back and tell him not to," she huffed, falling back on the cushions again. "I was just starting to relax. Haven't we already had enough to try our nerves today?"

"I am trying to..." I said, stabbing at the call button again and again. "He isn't picking up."

"Come on!" Tasha cursed at the ceiling.

"Who's coming over?" Granny Tonks asked with interest, taking a sip from her dubious mug again.

I got up and wretched the cup from her hand. The continuous slurping was grating on my nerves. "My boss," I said, and then sniffed her mug. I almost gagged. "What in the name of God is this?!"

"Why should I tell you?" Granny said, getting angry. "Give it back!" She reached for my hand.

I stepped out of her reach. "I don't think so," I said. "I am dumping this out."

"No!" she wailed. "Do you know how much that cost? It's fresh. Only two days old!"

I didn't dare ask her what it was that was fresh and only two days old, but I think I could safely have narrowed the guesses down. I glared at her hard, then went to the kitchen and dumped the pale yellowish liquid into the sink. I poured some bleach after it and chased it all down with a lot of water from the faucet.

"One day, girl," Granny Tonks assured me when I got back, chewing furiously at the pipe in her mouth. "One day, you are going to wake up tied to a train track."

I ignored her. "Here's a new rule," I told Tasha, picking up the remaining mugs and starting to hobble for the kitchen again. "Never ever let her drink whatever she wants to."

After that there was nothing left to do but wait. I tried to straighten the things around the house but gave up after sometime. Who cared, anyways? I hadn't asked him to come. If he insisted to, he would have to contend with a cluttered place. Besides, I was tired, and Tasha and Granny didn't move a finger to help.

About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. I looked at it wildly but then steeled myself and went to let him in, picking up a scarf on the way and putting it on my head.

When I removed the chain and pulled open the door, there was a surprise waiting for me outside.

What was it?

Well, it looked remarkably like the barrel of a gun pointed at my nose. Actually, when I zoomed out and my eyes stopped crossing over, I noticed that it was in fact the barrel of a gun pointed at my nose. And it came attached to the arm of a glowering Alexander Rodwell, dressed in rumpled jeans and a black tee.

When he saw it was me who opened the door, he rushed inside so fast my senses didn't even get a chance to register his entry. Almost immediately his arm had lifted me up and pushed me behind him as he came charging in. I was so shocked no sound came out of my lips.

Tasha gasped. I hoped Granny Tonks hadn't died.

He looked around the room. In his rush he had knocked the crutches out of my hands, and I had no choice but to grab at his black clad shoulders, which were a long way up. Somehow my body didn't seem to mind as much as it probably should have.