“The Silvertons, my family, and even Mika are here. Haven’t left since you came in,” Logan informs me, watching my face for any signs of…
I can’t tell you what he expects, but it definitely isn’t the scowl I adopt or the eye roll.
“What is this, Days of our Lives? I’m not dead, dying, or turning into a demon,” I say with an attitude the makes Logan frown.
“They were worried.”
“Well, they don’t…have to anymore. I’m doing fine.” I sniff, feeling uncomfortably aware that I don’t know what to do with this.
Do they want to laugh at me, tell me how I had it coming for being such a bitch? Maybe pretend concern or something like that because Logan seems to feel some sort of responsibility to me now?
I don’t know what it is, but I can tell you I don’t need it. I feel raw, unsettled by my near death, and very, sad, I guess because I just had a brain fart, and it occurs to me that Brig was out there and…he let this happen to me.
That knowledge hits me like a brick to the chest, leaving me gasping so hard that Logan shoots up and lunges for me, his bark of concern bringing Althea right back.
“What? What’s going on?”
“She just started looking funny and gasping!” he barks, his eyes frantic on me while I have…a moment.
I’m not used to feeling stuff, okay, give me a break. I’d deal much better with rage, disgust, and anything that doesn’t—in anyway—involve real hurt. I feel that now, real hurt, and dealing with it when all I want to do is rail and ask why is not easy.
I…feel something for my brothers. We may not have been close, aren’t close for all intents and purposes, but I thought, at least I never truly believed that they’d obey orders and actually come after me. Not entirely.
The feeling keeps getting stronger while Althea checks me over, throwing up her hands when I shove her away rudely and cover my face. Really, really don’t know how to get over this, I think, hating myself for not being stronger.
Oh God, was he there to kill me himself, or was it a two-man operation? Where was Blain? Why couldn’t they just give me this one thing, just let me live?
I have done what they wanted me to for years, passing on messages, skirting the edge of Daddy’s wrath by ignoring his dictates, and eavesdropping on council meetings when I could have been caught countless times.
They owed me, some loyalty. Just a scrap.
Feeling as if I’m going to shatter, I force myself to stop thinking at all, clearing my mind of everything but the knowledge that they failed. Huh! Take that assholes, I think, breathing deeply to calm myself while I savor their failure and promise myself revenge.
By the time I feel better, Althea and Logan are seriously unsettled, yet another thing that makes me stop shuddering and find my good place. Taking a breath, I smooth the blanket calmly, smooth my hair and compose myself into a mask of complete serenity, watching Logan blink and shake his head.
“What? A girl can’t cry?”
Chapter Twelve
Logan
I’m still reeling when I leave Hannah’s room without a word and follow Althea out towards the waiting area and reception, our shared looks silent and filled with…I don’t know what I feel…but seeing her go crazy that way, with not a tear passing her eyelids makes me both furious and strangely soft when I think of her.
“Hell!” Althea breathes, stopping at the reception desk to drop the chart and lean back, her expression still filled with alarm and anxiety.
To say I feel inept and incapable of processing what I just saw, followed by something that I can only describe as complete willpower and strange disconnection…
I have no words to describe how I feel, knowing that Hannah is a mix of iron will and such fragility she looks vulnerable, as if she isn’t capable of dealing with feelings.
“What was that? Did you see how fast and methodically she pulled herself together? And why freak out in the first place?” I ask. “She was fine before.”
“Logan, don’t take this the wrong way, okay, but grow up. You have no idea what it’s like to grow up elite, so trust me when I say, that was nothing.” She sighs, scrubbing at her eyes tiredly. “I warned you she may have trouble dealing with it all.”
“I know, but not…I don’t know what triggered that,” I admit, scrubbing the back of my head where my hair is so long it’s starting to kink.
“What were you talking about before she—oh dammit, I should have realized. This is my fault.”
“How? You didn’t do anything.”
“I told her everyone was out here,” she mumbles, blinking and looking away from me to hide her distress. “This isn’t normal for her. She’s been in here maybe once when she was a kid, never after, and that was only because her brother’s pet snake bit her. Hannah hasn’t had care, real care, for a very long time if ever. Just imagine waking up in here, knowing someone gave enough of a shit to bring you in, and then think about how foreign it is to hear that a whole waiting room full of people is out there, waiting to see you. People who Hannah knows aren’t fond of her.”
Leaning back against the counter, I drop my head back and close my eyes, my chest aching until it feels like it will explode. I don’t know how to deal with all of this myself, and I’m not the one who was attacked. If I’m feeling this out of sorts rearranging my thinking process in regards to how I feel and treat Hannah, I don’t even want to know how confused and scared she must be.
Someone tried to kill her for fuck’s sake, and she didn’t even blink. I mention family and it sets off thoughts in her that makes her near hysterical.
“Christ, I don’t think I know what to do with her. I’m not used to having to think of her as—”
“A person.” She cuts in, her lips going tight. “You listen to me, boy. I may not be on the best terms with that girl. I may also be readjusting my opinion of her, but she doesn’t need some half-assed bullshit from a male who is so used to disliking her it’s hard not to be a dick. Right now, she has nothing. Her family, from what I hear, has disowned her. One of her pack stalked and tried to kill her, damned near got it right too, and she’s having to deal with it all while also not knowing what she’s going to do or where she’s going to go. If you can’t be a good male, leave her alone. I can take her home with me and talk to Nick about helping her get on her feet.”
I don’t like the admonishment, but I can’t argue with it because it’s just nice to hear someone go to bat for Hannah. I promised myself for the last three days that I would do whatever I had to do to change the relationship we have and build on the little we have.
It may not be romantic and what most people want to hear, but we have lust, a sort of unsteady enjoyment of our snarky exchanges, and a great deal of stubborn to pull us together. I can work with that and make us work, and I know that if I try hard enough maybe what I have with Hannah will be something more than just sex.
The truth is that I want…more. I want to look at her and love her, like what I know about the person she is inside. Until now, I always thought I knew what she’s made of, but three days of thinking have made it abundantly clear to me that I don’t know her and that is on me.
I looked surface deep, saw what I wanted to see, and used it to fuel my dislike because that was better than having to deal with wanting a female I didn’t want to want.
Now I have to let go of it all and start fresh, get to know the female she is, the friend that Bear is having such a hard time abandoning, and I need to do it with enough open mindedness and sincerity that Hannah will want to try too.
“She’s not alone, Althea, and she doesn’t have nothing. She has me, and she has my family.”
“You sure about that, boy? Far as I’ve heard, your mother has always disliked her, your daddy don’t much care, and your friends aren’t exactly singing her praises,” she points out, making me wince.
“I’m sure, Al, I promise. Mom, she’ll get over it once she knows Hannah is mine, and the rest of them can
either deal or get gone,” I assure her, something deep inside me settling when I let that sink in.
I mean every word, as unsure as I am of how I’m going to do this.
“Good. Then I won’t keep it to myself that Hannah is going to go into heat soon,” she says, grinning when I groan and shove a hand through my hair.
“Hell.”
“Never heard a wolf complain about a wet female before.” She laughs, making me blush and throw her a wink.
“And you won’t ever again. I was hoping to get to know her before…”
“Isn’t anything better than after-sex glow to make a female warm and talkative.”
“No, I suppose there isn’t.” I chuckle, giving her a quick hug before going to tell my family that she’s awake.
I walk into the waiting room, seeing Mika fast asleep and drooling against Bear’s chest, his amusement and adoration as he watches the spit pool on his shirt making me roll my eyes.
Mom is knitting. God, I hope it’s not another Christmas sweater. Dad is reading the latest publication on pack law, his lip curled in disgust. Nick and Priss are both asleep on an air mattress Banner brought over with some other essentials, and he’s currently arguing quietly with Clarke, who is apparently the guy who got picked to go into the woods and get rid of Banes’s body.
“She’s awake. Whoa! You are not going in there before I talk to you all. Hannah is…not in a good place. She’s confused, in pain, and her natural snark is in full force. If you intend to go in there and try to be good to her, that’s fine, but if any of you are still on the hate train, get out of here and don’t bother. I don’t need her snapping at people and having you all yell at her or insult her. She may enjoy it, but I’m fucking done with this attitude. I’m mating her as soon as she’s strong enough to walk out of here, so you accept her or leave us be,” I tell them, watching Dad stand up and give me a stern look.
“We’re going to have to kill her family, son. I can’t find anything in the law to use against them, and the damn council can’t be held accountable either.”
Well, I think, smiling, that tells me where Dad stands.
Mom drops her knitting, something that looks scarily similar to a pair of booties and grabs a shawl she must have knitted out of her bag.
“I don’t know what her favorite color is. I chose purple. I hope she likes it.”
Okay.
“I’m a be her bess fren,” Mika mumbles, sitting up groggily to wipe drool off her cheek. “I’ll tell her,” yawn. “’bout how Mom tried to, shoot me.”
I laugh, watching Bear’s chest rise and settle, the rapid blinking of his eyes making us both grin because I can see just how happy that made him.
Nick just shrugs, as if it’s not even a problem, and Prissy sighs, twisting her lips.
“I suppose I could tell Jules to stop calling her a whore when I finally find the scamp.”
Okay, better than nothing.
Banner just grins, his golden eyes shining, and Clarke scratches his head, as if he’s confused.
“Were we supposed to hate her before? Sorry. I have eyes, man. That female is too fucking hot not to appreciate.”
Mother—
“Now Logan! Your brother is just teasing,” Dad starts, slapping Clarke when he starts denying it. “Shut up, boy. So, can we see her now? I’ve never seen a throat wound that bad close up. I wonder if it’s still raw.”
Shit. Now it’s not them I am fearing for, it’s Hannah.
# # # #
Hannah
“That thing is hideous!” I snarl, trying to shove Ros Kilter off me when she leans over in a maternal manner to place a purple knitted shawl around my shoulders.
I’m so out of my depth and unable to process the way these people just walked in here, all smiles, and are now trying to pretend that they care about me, as opposed to the extreme hatred I have been subjected to for years.
Of course, I’ll own up to my own, very amusing lump of blame, saying that I have always given as good as I got, most days relishing the impotent anger I would cause while smiling victoriously and winning the barb throwing contest that is my life.
Today, I have hardly any control, and my temper is flaring, a result of my freak out earlier and the mortified embarrassment I still feel.
“Oh honey, it looks great on you,” Ros says softly, her smile making me blink and suck at my lips as frustration fills me.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this…this thing? And I am so not talking about this hideous rag she’s obviously made for me and expects me to wear. Although…it is snuggly, I think, rubbing my cheek against the wool before I can catch myself.
“What it is, is shapeless and unsightly!” I respond, needing her…or someone to lash out and remind me how this game is played.
Anyone!
Ros doesn’t bat an eyelash though. She smiles actually and leans closer to pat my cheek with a maternal tenderness that makes me swallow harshly just so the pain can wake me the hell up.
Am I dreaming? I must be, and right now I don’t know if I want it to go on or if I should call it a nightmare and scream myself awake to end it. What I do know is that I don’t trust this rapid turnabout of hate to sudden camaraderie, and I don’t like it.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it, Hannah. I just, hope you’ll think of me when you wear it,” she says and sniffles, making me feel like hell.
Dammit, I should have stayed under and pretended I was in hell, anything but having all these idiots gather around me, pretending something that I have never had nor want. I don’t want it. Who needs all this bullshit when honesty is safe?
Sure, it hurts sometimes, but you can fight what you know. I know dislike and mistrust. I don’t fucking know tender and sweet and how to tell if they’re real or not.
I’m like a nestling, freshly hatched and just starting to flap my wings. Should I trust the mama bird—namely these people—to guide me?
I can’t say. My mind keeps telling me the bitch is going to shove me out of the nest and watch me fall to my death while inside I have this warm, really unpleasant feeling of…bewildered hope.
Ros is still looking at me expectantly, her gold eyes reminding me so much of Banner that I huff out impatiently and roll my eyes.
“Jesus, okay. I’ll wear it if it makes you stop giving me the creeps with your staring,” I concede, proud of myself for being this nice without reason.
Logan grins, as if I just handed his mother a bunch of roses and declared my undying love, and leans down to kiss my head. Oh God, I am so not understanding any of this. But what I do know is that every single time he touches me, I feel all tingly and needy, and I do not need to get a wet triangle with a room full of people.
“It would… make me happy,” she says, smiling and taking a step back.
“God, you look like hell,” Bear says, shocking me to my core when he comes to kiss my cheek and give me a tender hug.
My eyes wing to Mika, who isn’t so much as frowning, and I feel my world drop out from under me when she smiles shyly and pats my hand.
“You just get better. We can’t have girl get-togethers if you’re dead.”
“Well, we could, but there’d be rumors and a smell from your dead, decaying corpus…” Prissy laughs, giving us both a smile.
WTF.
“Girl get-togethers,” I say in a dead voice, not at all sure what I heard is true.
“Well of course, silly! We can’t be friends if we don’t get together. Oh! We’ll talk about babies, and I’ll tell you all about my mom. She’s crazy, and she tried to kill me!”
“I’d call her smart,” I rejoin, ignoring the way her lips twitch before she starts laughing.
“Oh you! Your sense of humor.”
Is gone, I think, blinking. My sense of humor is nowhere in sight because I am starting to get truly pissed. These people, they’re playing me somehow. I can just feel it.
“Stop second guessing everything and just deal with it, Han. They
all lo--were worried about you,” Logan says, catching himself just in time to seriously make it obvious that he was about to say love.
And that makes everyone so awkward even I don’t move or blink until Nick clears his throat and nods his agreement. Honestly, I feel as if an elephant just sat down on my chest, as if my throat has taken another savage attack and as if my eyeballs have been doused in lighter fluid.
To know, without a doubt, that no one loves me is not a nice feeling. I always content myself with the truth that I don’t love anyone. Well, I love Bear, but that’s different, but no one else feels anything for me.
I know why they’re here: guilt, horror at what was done to me, and fear that if Logan mates me and they don’t accept me, things will be hard for everyone.
I accept that. I understand that, and further, I don’t blame them. I just don’t need insincerity when I deal better with honesty.
“Well, thank you so much,” I say sweetly, letting my gaze fly around the room.
“We’re going to be friends,” Mika says, seeming shy and excited by the prospect.
I feel horror.
“No, thank you.”
I can hear crickets chirping in the distance… the room gets so quiet before Mika giggles and shakes her head.
“You can’t decline, silly.”
“I…can’t?” I ask, looking at Logan for some sort of help.
The idiot grins, leaves me hanging in the breeze, and tries to hold my hand. I would struggle, but by the time he’s got my hand in his firm grip, I’m already being distracted by Banner, who is trying to hide his laughter.
“No, you can’t,” Banner says and laughs, answering for her. “If you’re part of the family now, you have to accept everything about us, including our friends.”
The whole part of the family thing makes me go still and turn a narrow-eyed stare on Logan, my disgust evident.
“I said—no.”
“You can’t say no.”
“I can. I did. N. O. Easiest word in the English language and basically universal,” I tell him seriously, meeting his direct glare with one of my own.
Greyriver Shifters Page 36
