Page 22 of Oxygen Deprived

I blinked.

“I have an ankle monitor,” I pointed to the offending thing that made all my clothes look funny at that ankle. “Why would you think I was anywhere else but home? There would be cop cars here by now if that was the case.”

Memphis looked sheepish.

“I’m afraid that was my fault,” she explained. “I couldn’t get into your house because it’s locked, and you weren’t answering the door. I forgot my phone, but I had the radio in my car, and I called into dispatch.”

My mouth dropped open.

“You’re allowed to do that?” I asked.

She nodded…then shrugged.

“Maybe not,” she said with a smile. “Probably gonna hear about it tonight, but there was no way I was going to leave and then come back. Not with how bad these roads are.”

She indicated to the road behind her, showing me the snow-covered roads.

“Oh, okay.” I nodded. “Well, they’re in my car.”

Memphis nodded, opening the backdoor.

“I’ll bring the blankets back to you, if you don’t mind,” she said.

I was about to tell her that was one of my three blankets—yes, only three to my name—but then I saw the instant she opened the door, and realized it was too cold out there for her kids to go without. Sighing in frustration, I told her to take them.

“You can have them,” I agreed.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll get Downy to drop them back on his way home from work.”

I nodded.

“Okay,” I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then again, it wasn’t like I needed an excuse to get onto Amazon. My finger was already getting itchy.

However, my bank account told me how stupid that’d be.

Luckily, my blog’s royalty check would be coming in soon.

Not to mention my advertising check, so I should be fine.

But until I could get paid, I’d be down a blanket that I couldn’t replace until at least two weeks from now.

“I’ll take him,” Drew offered.

Memphis smiled, handing Lock over, thankfully.

Lock was three, but he was a hefty forty-something pounds. I’d noticed when I’d taken him to the car from the house.

Their baby, Ares, who wasn’t so much a baby anymore at a year and a half, was about half the size of her brother. She also had her daddy’s red hair, which made me smile when the only thing you could see poking out of the blanket were her fiery red curls.

“Thanks again, Aspen,” she thanked me softly.

My heart smiled at how much I liked my sister-in-law.

It wasn’t her fault she was married to an ogre.

An ogre that I loved with all my heart.