Cross My Tigress Face the Wrath (Stella) novel Chapter 787

When Barnaby and Silas showed up, they walked right up to the door. Silas suddenly stopped dead, and Barnaby, caught off guard, plowed straight into his back.

“Ow, damn!” Barnaby muttered, rubbing his nose, annoyed. “What the hell, man? Knock already, will you?”

What was Silas doing? Just standing there, staring at the door like he was waiting for a sign from above? They’d stood through enough storms by now—wind, rain, snow, you name it.

But Silas didn’t move an inch.

Barnaby huffed, exasperated. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

He figured Silas was just nervous—Hull hadn’t been in the best mood when he left Brett’s room earlier, and Silas clearly wasn’t looking to poke the bear. But honestly, after all the trouble they’d gotten into together over the years, and Hull had never actually killed them…

Barnaby brushed past Silas, ready to knock. Before his fist could hit the door, Silas grabbed him by the back of the neck, fast as lightning.

“Ow! Dude, what the hell?” Barnaby yelped, feeling like his skin was about to come off.

Silas winced like he had a headache. “Are you nuts? You really got a death wish, huh?”

Barnaby glared. “What now? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Neither of them had even seen Hull yet. Barnaby had no idea what Silas was freaking out about.

Silas hissed, “Did you not hear that?”

Barnaby froze.

The sounds coming from inside the room…

He cocked his head, about to press his ear to the door.

Silas, looking like he’d rather face the Grim Reaper than be caught eavesdropping, yanked Barnaby away from the door.

And just as he was dragged off, Barnaby finally realized what the noise was. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Man, big bro really doesn’t care about timing, huh? He’s supposed to be talking business with Brett.”

Susanna felt like she’d been hauled out of a lake, limp and exhausted. When Hull got up and leaned over to scoop her up for a shower, she kicked at him, still fuming. “You absolute jerk.”

She didn’t hold back, but Hull, with those ridiculous reflexes, caught her ankle in one hand, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

“Gotta say, Yvonne deserves some credit.”

Susanna stared at him, confused. “What?”

Hull just smirked. “Guess your stamina’s improved.”

Susanna fell silent. The way he said ‘stamina’ was so loaded, she wanted to throw a pillow at him. She remembered last time at the lake house, she’d passed out more than once. This time, at least, she was still conscious—barely.

But it still hurt.

“You’re unbelievable,” she huffed, glaring at him. “Seriously, you’re the worst.”

And she meant every word.