Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) by Molle McGregor Page A

bottle of mango lotion to go with the body wash. Just then, it was better than winning the lottery. A six-pack of bikini underwear in bright colors. Two pullover-style bras. Hannah paused over these for a moment before she realized Conner’s friend wouldn’t have had her bra size. These would be forgiving and would definitely fit her. She sighed in pleasure. Before, Hannah had hated wearing a bra. She wasn’t flat chested, but she wasn’t quite big enough to need a bra for support and she’d always been annoyed at having to wear one for the sake of modesty. After months surrounded by aggressive men without the protection of anything under her thin t-shirts, Hannah was thrilled at the idea of putting on a bra again.
    In the next bag there were several long and short sleeve t-shirts, again in bright colors. Hannah also found an oatmeal cable-knit sweater in lightweight cotton and a gray zip-front hoodie. The sizes looked okay. The third bag held two pairs of jeans and a pair of flip flops. Hannah puzzled over these for a moment, as it was too chilly out to be wearing flip flops, especially in the mountains. Then it occurred to her. She’d been sleeping and they didn’t know her shoe size. Hannah realized that after so long without, she couldn’t remember what size shoes she wore. Nine and a half? Or was it eight and a half? Hadn’t her mother worn nine and a half? Hannah’s stomach clenched in panic. How could she forget something as basic as her shoe size?
    Abruptly, the events of the past few days hit her in a landslide. Tears welled in her eyes, her knees buckled and she slid to the floor beside the bed, clutching the soft quilt to her face to stifle her sobs. She didn’t know what size shoes she wore and she held a brand new hairbrush. For her. That she could keep and use whenever she wanted. The vanilla sweetness of milkshake clung to her tongue. Simple kindnesses, which probably meant nothing to Conner and his friend, were completely foreign to Hannah and the life she’d been living.
    Hot tears flooded down her cheeks. Months of holding back, refusing to show weakness, and now that she was safe she couldn’t stop crying. She’d killed Glenn. Her brain told her he deserved it. He’d tortured her for months. Shed her blood with joy. Hannah didn’t regret stabbing him. The resistant give of plunging the knife into his doughy flesh echoed in her head, in her hands.
    She’d washed away his blood, but a part of her still felt the sticky heat of it on her skin. The knife beside the bed had been so vital an hour ago. Now the sight of it repulsed her. Had she used that to kill her stepfather? Used his own blade to take his life? Was she just as much a monster as he, if she was glad she’d killed him? Hannah stopped trying to make sense of it all and let herself go, conscious only of keeping her sobs quiet. The last thing she wanted was for Conner to see her like this, crumpled on the floor, bawling like a child.
    Eventually Hannah ran out of tears. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she was hungry and she still needed a shower. She got to her feet and collected the toiletries to bring to the bathroom. Turning the shower as hot as she thought she could stand, she locked the bathroom door, stripped her clothes with her back to the mirror, and quickly got in. It was rare that she’d been allowed a shower while under Glenn’s control. She’d had to make do with a washcloth and the sink. Even the few showers she’d taken hadn’t been pleasant experiences. Cold water and an unlocked door turned the shower into a race. While she’d only known Conner for a few hours, Hannah was pretty sure he wasn’t the type to burst in on her while she was in the shower. If he was, with his size she knew the flimsy lock she’d turned wouldn't slow him down. But the lock made her feel better all the same.
    The steaming hot water was bliss. Utter bliss. A box of truffles, expensive champagne and the best sex on the planet