Seamless by R. L. Griffin Read Free Book Online Page A

up here.” She carefully maneuvered herself over him until she stood on the floor and carefully guided Cooper down the ladder. “You don’t have to go everywhere I go, you know.” Stella smiled and petted his soft head. Cooper just wagged his tail.
    Stella climbed back up and slid the box over to the top of the ladder. She lifted it to start her descent. “Shit, this is heavy,” she said to herself and tried just sliding the box down the ladder. When she got to the bottom, her feet firmly planted on the floor, she was able to carry the box easily. She turned and walked her box all the way down to the garage, as casual as could be, leaving the attic stairs down.
    She opened the top of the box and peered in. She smiled—exactly the box she was looking for. She reached for her drink and remembered she’d left her wine upstairs. Fuck. Cooper followed her back upstairs where she grabbed the half-empty bottle of pinot noir. She took a huge gulp as she walked downstairs, a drop of the wine landing on her chin in her haste. She wiped it off with the sleeve of her yellow long-sleeve shirt, the wine soaking in the sleeve immediately. As she rounded the corner of the kitchen, she heard her phone notify her of a missed call and a text. For the love of shit! She was so tired of all the fucking tweets and media speculation lately. She ignored the phone and kept walking toward the garage.
    “Sorry, Coop,” she said as she shut the door to the garage in his sweet, inquisitive face.
    Stella bent and put her wine on a step stool off to the left of the door that led into the house. She’d been seeing her psychiatrist every week, but no matter how much therapy she was getting, she couldn’t wrap her brain around this one. The fact that her former fiancé might be trying to kill her, she was trying to expose him to the FBI, and her current boyfriend was dead set on killing said former fiancé. This was shit that happened in movies, not to regular people like her.
    She carefully pulled a pilsner glass out of the box and unwrapped the newspaper around it. She’d taken such care when she packed her things. Now she didn’t care about any of it. Taking a deep breath, she squared her feet and threw the glass as hard as she could against the brick wall of the garage. She repeated this process until she felt like she could breathe again.
    It took all twelve glasses.
    As she started unwrapping the plates, the garage door began lifting. “Shit!” Stella breathed—George was home. He was supposed to be working tonight at the bar. There was nothing she could do to hide what she’d been doing.
    At seeing all the broken glass on the side of the garage where he normally parked his bike, George pulled to a stop. He cut the ignition and, after small hesitation, took his helmet off and took in the situation.
    “Sorry!” Stella called with a shrug. “I was going to clean up before you got home.”
    “What are you doing?” George asked, his voice inquisitive, walking over to where she stood.
    “Throwing shit. Breaking shit. Breathing.”
    George eyed her curiously, then plucked the plate from her hand and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. Stella walked to the door and pressed the button to close the garage door, relaxing as soon as they were safely shut in their cave of broken glass and ceramic shards. The sounds of fragile objects smashing against brick was bizarrely soothing to her, but she didn’t think their neighbors would appreciate it.
    “This is liberating,” he said, smiling.
    Stella took another chug out of her wine bottle and smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
    “Oh, we’re drinking too?”
    “Well, I am. You need to get your own bottle.” Stella pulled the bottle into her body protectively.
    “You won’t share with me?” George raised one of his eyebrows.
    “I’m sharing my dishes. That’s enough.”
    Stella unwrapped two more plates and they took turns throwing them against the wall. George threw his