by M. K. Harper
“It is in that context and you know it.” She levels him with a glare that has his next excuse dying on his lips. His mouth snaps shut while his eyes shoot daggers at Dax, who only smirks at him, further pissing him off.
“Daxton, act your age, not your shoe size.” His mother scolds him, but the moment she turns her back, him and Caulder start sticking their tongues out at each other. I swear I bonded myself to a full-grown adult yesterday, but what I’m witnessing now has me questioning that. Before the two of them can start bickering again, the front door opens and Carder ambles into the kitchen a second later. He looks all business, his lips pressed together while one of his hands rubs at the back of his neck. He kisses Beatrix on the cheek before leaning against the counter so that we’re all in view. Knowing her husband well enough to see that something is up, she politely asks Caulder to head to the living room to watch some cartoons.
“What’s going on?” she questions as soon as LT is out of hearing shot, her brows furrowed in concern.
“Just heard from Cyrus, the man who’s been placed in charge of Pack Ames for the time bein’. We offered our help with any of the women who might need assistance in gettin’ back on their feet and it seems he’s ready to take us up on that,” Carder explains.
“So, what’s the problem?” Dax asks, obviously sensing that there’s some sort of issue.
“Not so much a problem, as a hurdle. They got seven women they want us to take in, but the only space we got is out past the lake. Those two old huntin’ cabins that ain’t seen a bottle of disinfect in nearly a decade. Gonna take some work gettin’ ‘em ready and we only got today.” Carder looks overwhelmed, but I’m really not seeing the problem here.
“Okay, so we clean them. Between us and a few extra hands I’m sure we can get them squared away by nightfall.” I shrug my shoulders, down to get my hands dirty. Especially since I likely spent five days in the presence of these women and when I left, I didn’t even think to try and help get them out too. I just ran for my life without a backwards glance. There’s that ever-persistent guilt trying to fight its way back to the forefront.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Mom smiles proudly at me. “I can make a quick trip into town and grab some supplies from the office. We have to scrub our homes quite often so we have some pretty powerful cleaners.”
“That’d be great, Grace.” Beatrix squeezes her shoulder.
“I think I’ll ride along and help,” I offer, knowing this would be the perfect time for the two of us to have that dreaded talk. Dax nods at me subtly, having figured out my grand plan. Probably not my smartest, considering we’ll be in a car, driving at a high rate of speed when I drop that bomb.
Chapter 8
Linden
After a highly inappropriate kiss from Dax, like full tilt, back bent in front of everyone, he finally releases me so that I can barricade myself inside the car. The first few minutes heading down the driveway are spent in silence. I haven’t been off Pack land since breaking out of casa de Hell. Leaving now makes me fidgety and nervous. I don’t think Mom has for more than an hour, just long enough to grab more clothes and then hurry back. We’ve both felt safe within the confines of our little haven. Especially now that Pack Ames has been dealt with. I’m worried she won’t feel that same sense of safety when she finds out her estranged husband is shacking up on the same plot of dirt.
“So...” we both start, then laugh at how awkward we’re both being. Mom shoots me a coy smile as she turns onto the road, causing me to cringe. I can already tell where this is headed.
“I swear to Jesus, if you say, “my little girl’s a woman now” I will vomit all over your floorboard.” A surprised laugh erupts from her, making me smile.
“I think our relationship goes a bit further than such cliché words, wouldn’t you say?” She steals a look at me before focusing back on the road. I grin, knowing she’s right.
“It looks good on you, Indy.” I can actually hear her relief.
“What does?” I ask, thrown off by the unexpected comment.
“Happiness.” I smile, thinking about how right she is. It feels good too. Because I’m a chickenshit, I keep quiet the rest of the ride to Mom’s work. I don’t want to ruin this content silence we’ve created. So instead, I stare out the window, watching as we pass all the little shoppes that line the main strip of Pleasant Falls. A few seconds later, we pull up outside of Payson Home Designs. Linking my arm with Mom’s, we head for the entrance. She quickly unlocks the door and we step inside. The office space is decorated exactly how I expected it to be. The perfect mix of modern and rustic.
“Let’s grab what we need so we can get back. It sounds like we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.” I follow Mom down a short hallway that ends with a large walk-in storage closet. She wasn’t kidding about the cleaning supplies being heavy duty. We load up a bit of everything, not really sure what we’re gonna walk into when we get to these cabins. Guys can either exaggerate a situation, or highly underestimate it. By the time we make our last trip back to the Jeep, my bony noodle arms are practically limp. Once we’ve got everything situated in the back and positive nothing will spill if it falls over, I start for the passenger side so we can finally leave. When a familiar face catches my eye from across the street, I stop just short of calling out his name. Chevy’s with an older man, who’s looming over my best friend in an obvious show of dominance. He’s speaking low but his words look vicious as his mouth contorts with disdain. I watch for a few seconds, trying to process what I’m seeing.
“Indy? You gonna stand there all day or get in the car?” Mom asks from the driver’s seat, ready to go. But for some reason, I get the feeling I should stay and at least observe how this is going to play out. I haven’t so much as thought that when the man grips Chev’s upper arm, causing him to wince. Annnnd I’m off. Hot footing it across the street, oncoming traffic be damned. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure this man is Chevy’s father. And if I didn’t like him before, when I was only left to my imagination, I sure as hell don’t now. Which means this is about to go as well as a cat getting a bath.
“Chev?” I force my voice to stay steady, but my eyes are all sorts of pissed off crazy lady, focused on the spot that asshole’s hand is still holding in a death grip. “You good?” I finally look up at him, watching shock and embarrassment play out on his face.
“Lin,” his voice wobbles, and that pushes me over the edge.
“Go get in the car. Mom’s waiting,” I nod behind me. From the corner of my eye I watch captain douche’s hold tighten.
“I’m not sure who you think you are little girl, but this is a private family matter.” I smile, but it sure as hell ain’t sweet. Finally giving the pretentious prick my attention, I take in the whole of him. Definitely a former football player whose glory days have long since passed. Now all he’s left with is a muffin top and a receding hairline. He clearly comes from money, which is probably the only reason someone slept with him in the first place, allowing him to procreate.
“You got about two seconds to get your hand off of him, or so help me God I will scream so fucking loud that the international space station will be able to pick it up. And then, once I have everyone’s undivided attention, I’ll tell them just how much you like little girls. As you so kindly called me.” He drops his hand so fast you’d think he’d been burned. The second he’s free, Chev stumbles away. A quick peek over my shoulder shows Mom standing on the sidewalk, watching the whole ordeal play out. The second she has him, I give my attention back to the sad excuse of a man in front of me.
“Do you have any idea who you’re deali...” I cut him off, already sick of hearing him talk.
“Let me save you the time. I don’t give a shit who you are, but I’m guessing you fathered that brilliant man you were just treating like shit. But let’s be honest, calling you a father would be a stretch. He deserves so much more than you. Good thing he’s got a family that loves him just the way the good Lord mad
e him. Have a shit day.” I whirl around, leaving the dick with his mouth gaping and ego undoubtedly bruised. I use the short walk to the car to calm myself down. The last thing I want to do is snap at Chev, but it’s time for some answers and this conversation is long overdue. I climb in, fasten my seatbelt and wait till Mom has started driving before I speak.
“Talk.” I cut my eyes to his in the rear-view mirror. He looks reluctant, but when I don’t waver, I watch his body sag with defeat.
“My father is an asshole. Thinks that I’m choosing to cause our family shame and embarrassment. He says I’ve always been a problem child and my being gay is just another ploy for attention. They kicked me out shortly after you were taken, so I’ve been crashing at the Bardot’s. Today, when I met him to return my key to their house, he decided he was done with my so-called games. Apparently, them kicking me out was supposed to be a wakeup call for me. They thought that once I was cut off I’d conform to their ways and suddenly like girls. He didn’t take it too well that his money couldn’t buy my obedience,” he trails off, his focus on the trees flying by outside his window. I twist so that he can see me, because he really needs to for what I’m about to say.
“First of all, I’ve been a shit friend. I knew something was up but didn’t want to make you talk about it before you were ready. But living with someone like that? It’s dangerous and I should’ve poked sooner. So, for that I’m sorry, but you need to know that you’re a loss for him Chev. He has no clue what we’ve gained. One day, when he’s so old he needs someone else to wipe his ass for him and not a single person is there to help, he’ll realize how foolish he was. But by the time he’s figured it out, he’ll have missed the in between. All the years that could’ve been spent getting to know his son will be gone, and that’ll be on him. Not you.” I make sure to keep my eyes locked with his, hoping he can feel just how much I mean every word.
“You’re the complete opposite of a shit friend, Lin,” Chev huffs out a humorless laugh. “You’ve had a lot going on, the last thing I wanted to do was add my daddy issues to the mix. Especially when your own father has done a lot worse than mine.” I hate that he feels like he’s had to keep his problems to himself.
“Chevy, we’re family. Your problems are my problems. Hurt isn’t comparable. How you feel is valid and has nothing to do with my own issues.” His watery eyes hold a sea of pain. “Don’t let anyone ever treat you like a plain ole Hershey bar, when you’re a goddamn Lindt truffle.” He chokes out a laugh, his heavy mood visibly lifting.
“God, I love you.” Chev smiles, his body finally relaxing. There’s a lot I still don’t know, of that I’m sure, but I’m thankful he finally opened up to me. And maybe in time he’ll realize that he can talk to any of us, without us having to pry it out of him.
“Ugh, enough with all the sad and emotional,” I joke, tapping the Bluetooth button on the Jeep to connect my phone. A second later, I Don’t Fuck with You by Big Sean blasts through the speakers. Mom looks appalled for all of three seconds, and then she’s mouthing the words right along with us. The rest of the way back, the three of us sing along, shedding the tension with every mile that passes.
Chapter 9
Linden
When we pull back into Beatrix and Carder’s, I realize Mom and I never got to have that talk. Everyone’s gathered out front, and it looks like they’ve recruited Lex and Bray as well. Yeah, that heart-to-heart is gonna have to wait. The last thing we need to tack on to that disaster is an audience.
“Um...” Chev speaks up. “Why are there enough chemicals back here to decompose a body?” He speaks slowly, eyeing the bottles of cleaner. “Oh God, are we getting rid of a body?” Chevy whisper shouts. I snort.
“Ah, hell. Is it my body? I swear it was just one ass pinch.” My eyebrows arch. This is my best friend, and logically, I know that my reaction is well out of the realm of normal. But someone has failed to tell that to the psycho part of me that’s currently flying this plane. I’m in the cockpit, but I ain’t got the stick. I have to press my lips together to refrain from snarling. Chev pales when he looks at me, pressing himself against the door.
“Lin what the fuck are your eyes doing?!” his voice climbs up an octave. I blink, shaking off the anger that had started to build. No, not anger. More like possessiveness.
“Nothing’s wrong with my eyes!” I scowl, defensive and cagey from his question. “And the cleaner is for the cabins we’re preparing for a few of the women who need some help getting back on their feet after being property of Pack Ames for fuck knows how long. So, start moving,” I gripe. I’m fine. Everything is fine. You. Are. Fine. Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll come true. Before Mom or Chev can interrogate me, I throw the door open and get out. Dax is on me before I’ve taken two steps. His hands wind through my hair, tilting my head back with a tug. Once he’s maneuvered me how he pleases, his lips press against mine. Demanding ass wolf.
“That took too fucking long,” he growls, moving to my neck to breathe me in. I sigh, leaning into it. That will never grow old. And just like always, the second his arms are around me I feel grounded and safe. The altercation with Chevy’s father fades away. My own parental issues and even the apprehension I have about our guests’ impending arrival no longer has me feeling so weighed down. Dax is just a little shot of happy, and I hope I give him a fraction of what he does me. A trembling exhale escapes me, my mate noticing immediately.
“What’s wrong?” His hand rubs up and down my spine, keeping me pressed against him. I give him a reassuring squeeze before peeling myself away.
“Oh, ya know, just the daily dose of drama the universe is set on giving me. Had the pleasure of meeting Chevy’s father. That’s ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back.” I roll my neck, feeling the muscles begin to tighten.
“That bad, huh?” Dax’s hands stay planted on my hips, his fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. That I’m still wearing. Along with his boxers. Hells bells…I went to town like this. No wonder that dickhole didn’t find me intimidating when I tried to put him in his place. Because you’re so scary otherwise, Linden.
“I could have hit him, but I didn’t. So, guess not too bad?” Dax laughs, the sound making my ovaries throb. These moments, with just the two of us, make me feel like everything’s going to be all right. But then I think about all the shit that has to be sorted out and dealt with before we’ll get to that point, and it makes my head hurt. The overworked lump in my skull is all over the place, bouncing from one fire that needs putting out to the next, and I haven’t had more than a second to really process the last twenty-four hours. I absently wonder if Chev still has any of that pot? That would definitely do the trick and mellow me out. But I don’t really have the extra time to spend hours embracing the life of a bird… Which means I need to put my own drama on the backburner for now and focus on what needs to be done.
“Is this everyone?” I look around at our friends and family, talking and laughing. I’m so grateful for this place. I doubt anyone here thought twice when they were asked to help out.
“For now. If we end up needing more help, we’ll call for reinforcements, but we wanted to keep things low key for a bit. Pop wants the women to have a chance to settle in for a day or so before pack members start dropping by and being nosy.” Makes sense. I’m sure the last thing these women we’ll want is random strangers popping in. I didn’t want to see my own family, much less people I’d never met before.
“Well let’s go, we’re wasting daylight!” I start unloading the car, avoiding Chev and Mom with their questioning glances. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit that something has been off with me for a while now. But last night, after Dax and I gnawed on each other like a snacky-snack, something shifted. I don’t know how else to describe it, but I feel different today. Whether that’s a good or bad different, has yet to be determined. With my history, there’s a good chance it’ll turn out to be catastrophically bad. But that’s only relevant if I’m being honest wi
th myself, and I’m most certainly not. Today I’m living in denial, and tomorrow’s forecast looks to be the same. At least where this particular development is concerned. My personal problems are insignificant compared to what these women have gone through and pointing my focus to them will help quiet everything else shouting for attention in my head.
Because you sure as shit didn’t think about them when you left them high and dry.
Nope, not today, not going there. I steady my hands and continue unloading our haul of cleaning supplies from the Jeep. Dax takes a few from me and passes them along to our little entourage. When everyone has broken off into groups of two or three to get started, Carder address us.
“We got our work cut out for us. These cabins ain’t seen so much as a broom in years. We still got a few good hours of daylight ahead of us, so let’s move out.” We fall into step behind Papa Wolf, traipsing through the woods until we reach two small houses that have definitely seen better days. After a few more instructions from Carder, we split up, some of us taking the insides and some staying to work on the outsides. Dax and I head for the closest cabin, Caulder right on our heels. At first glance, it doesn’t seem too bad. But when I take a closer look, it’s obvious there’s a coat of dust covering just about everything. Luckily, they’re already furnished, but I’m not sure how much will be salvageable once we’ve got it all clean. First, I open all the windows, hoping to air out the staleness and avoid hacking up a lung once we stir up years’ worth of dirt and debris.
The three of us work in silence for a while, nothing but the music playing from Dax’s phone able to be heard. It’s nice to get lost in something as monotonous as cleaning. It was Mom’s go-to when she needed to work out her frustrations, which likely stemmed from wanting to stab my father in the dick, and I guess it’s rubbed off on me. I’m in my own world when I hear someone gag and start stumbling around from the back end of the small house. I toss my rag into the bucket of soapy water I’d been using to scrub the counters, and follow the sound coming from the hallway. When I reach the bathroom, I see what all the fuss is about. It appears someone took a piss, oh, about fifty-two years ago, and never bothered to flush the toilet. The smell is putrid, making me lift my shirt over my nose.
