by Hettie Ivers
And I wasn’t leaving San Francisco without her.
I reached out to Mike through our mind connection, letting him know we were going to have to sedate Bethany after all. I’d been appalled at the idea when Mike had suggested that it might become necessary, but now I was grateful he’d had the foresight to think of it and to teleport back to Bariloche this morning to procure a safe sedative injection from Rafe.
I cursed my sister’s pack. This situation would be so much simpler and safer if I had access to Bethany’s mind and could render her unconscious that way. It made me sick to think of injecting synthetic drugs into her system. But we were running out of time.
Mike’s guys had taken the precaution of setting up surveillance and tracking devices on Bethany’s family and close friends overnight. While we’d been busy scaring the shit out of Gregg, the guys had sent word telepathically to Mike that Mrs. Garrett was already on her way over to check on Bethy.
We still needed to finish with Gregg and clean up the mess we’d made of Bethany’s apartment. And now it seemed I would have to find a way to put Mrs. G off before we hopped a jet home.
Though Mike and I had teleported to San Francisco for our meeting yesterday, the rest of my men had flown in with Stephen on one of our private planes. In light of where things stood with Bethany, I’d decided it was best for us all to return to Bariloche via private jet. I needed more time to explain things to Bethany—to better prepare her for the supernatural world she was about to be thrust into.
And time to figure out how best to explain the way I felt about Bethany to Sloane. I doubted Sloane was going to be very happy about Bethy’s arrival—or about the role of mate that Bethany would now occupy in my life.
“Antibiotics won’t help, baby,” I tried to reason with her. “I need my doctor—a werelock doctor—to look at your bite.”
“But that’s silly, Raul. I know tons of great doctors right here in San Francisco. Heck, I’m a doctor, remember?” Her laughter held a note of hysteria as she prattled, “My mom’s a doctor, most of my closest friends are doctors, I spend my days and nights at a hospital surrounded by doctors …”
As Mike entered the bedroom, I reversed our positions, flipping Bethany over so that she was once again on her back and I was above her.
The moment I did it, and she saw Mike coming toward us, her survival instincts kicked into full gear. She started squirming beneath me, then flailing like mad when she caught sight of the needle in Mike’s hand.
“Raul, please don’t do this. You don’t have to do this. I swear I won’t say anything.”
“Bethany, there’s nothing to be afraid of. No one’s going to harm you. We’re doing this to help you.”
She began sobbing again. She wasn’t hearing me.
She didn’t trust me.
“Shh—everything’s going to be okay, step-cuz,” Mike tried to reassure her to no avail as he approached the bed. “It’s only a mild sedative. It can’t hurt you.”
Her state of panic only escalated.
And I felt it as if it were my panic.
“Raul, you have to hold her still. Dragging this out will make it worse.”
I couldn’t do this. Her hysterical begging and thrashing was ripping my heart open. Calling forth memories and emotions I’d fought to block out over the years.
In my mind, she suddenly became my mother begging the paramedics not to take her to the hospital—struggling with them when they’d tried to move her onto a stretcher, pleading with them to let her deliver her baby right there on the kitchen floor instead.
For a moment, I felt utterly helpless. Powerless. Transported back in time to when I was the kid in the background repeatedly told to get out of the way; the little boy who’d had no control, no say in what happened next.
The idiot who’d simply stood there crying, watching his mom die.
Don’t go there.
Can’t afford to go there.
I was a man now. I was in control. I’d gone to great lengths and pushed extraordinary limits to ensure that I would always be the one in control—the one holding the power and calling the shots.
I got to say what happened next.
Taking Bethany was the right thing to do. She didn’t understand the situation. Didn’t know that her life was in danger and she needed to come with us in order to be safe. I couldn’t give her a choice in this.
I wouldn’t give her a choice.
A calm swept over me, shutting off my emotions and numbing the pain I’d felt in my heart at the sight of her tears. I sank my weight into her midsection, removed her hands that were clutching at me, and pinned them together at the wrist with one hand against the bed. My fingers that had been caressing her scalp in an attempt to soothe her fisted the roots of her hair to hold her head steady.
“Do it,” I ordered Mike. “Put her under before we lose any more time.”
Bethany’s wet eyes flared at my command.
I knew I’d sounded cold. Callous.
The fear and horror I saw reflected in her blue-green eyes at my perceived betrayal would haunt me. But it didn’t matter. I was saving Bethany.
I told myself she would understand later that this had been the right thing to do as Mike moved into position with the needle. I held her immobile as he pierced her jugular vein and depressed the syringe plunger, injecting Rafe’s modified opioid directly into her bloodstream to put her out faster.
Fresh tears flooded her eyes, even as I felt the tension in her body settling, her muscles relaxing as her form went limp beneath my hold.
“Slowly,” I reminded Mike. “Not too much.”
“I’ve got it. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
I tried to make my voice reassuring as I told Bethy again that everything was going to be okay, that she was safe with me, and that I was sorry.
I was—so fucking sorry.
Her glassy eyes were unfocused by the time Mike withdrew the needle. By the time he’d left the room, she was struggling to remain conscious as I stroked her hair and wiped her tears away.
I wasn’t sure if she could still hear me as I pleaded softly, “Please forgive me for this, Bethy. Please understand. I promise everything’s going to be okay.”
“Hate you,” she slurred in reply as her heavy eyelids finally gave in and lost the battle.
I sighed and kissed her sleeping forehead.
“I know. I hate me too.”
14
Raul
“We have to separate them. I’ll take the boy back to Brazil with me. You give the girl up for adoption here.”
The screen in front of me blurred. My eyes stung as I blinked back tears. Mateus wasn’t the kind of adult you could cry in front of. Although, there’d been a brief moment at the wake when I could have sworn I’d seen him crying by Mom’s casket.
My sweaty fingers slipped over the controls as I pretended to still be engrossed in my game. I was getting my ass beat by Dr. Wily, and I didn’t even care. I stole a glance at Aunt Cely. She looked like she was about to “go nuclear,” as Mom would have said.
“If you think I’m going to give up custody of my nephew to the sperm donor who refers to him as ‘the boy,’ you’re dumber than I always told Kamella you were.”
“I can never offer you any support. Just like I couldn’t Kamella. Sending money would’ve given us away. How will you support two kids on your own? Put your emotions aside and be rational about this.”
“Spoken like a true deadbeat. I don’t want your money.”
“You don’t understand. Kamella’s death may have already given us away. I made up outlandish lies just to be able to come here. I’ll have to invent more before this is through.”
“I want you to leave.”
“You’re not listening to me. The girl’s life can never be tied to mine. Do you understand? Her very existence will get us all killed.”
“The girl?” Aunt Cely repeated, her blue eyes narrowing to slits as she puffed her chest out. “B
y ‘the girl,’ I will assume you mean Milena, your newborn daughter and my sister’s second child by your unfortunate participation. Let me assure you, I am one hundred percent on board with you never having anything to do with my niece.”
“You think this is my fault? That I wanted this?” Mateus’s face contorted and his voice rose in anger as he glared from Aunt Cely to my sleeping sister in her bassinet. “That I wanted that—that—”
“Baby?” Aunt Cely finished for him, her volume and exasperation level rising to match his anger.
“Curse.” He pointed a finger at my sister. “That thing is a living, breathing curse.”
“Get out of this house!” Cely screeched at him. Her head whipped in my direction. “Raul, go to your room.”
I jumped up from the couch, anxious to get away, but all the yelling had woken Milena up, and she started crying, her little wails adding to the tension consuming the house as Mateus continued to rage.
“Kamella told me she was on the pill. That baby never should have happened to begin with. It sure as shit shouldn’t have lived. Goddamn paramedics were supposed to save Kamella’s life. I could sue them.”
I went to the bassinet and bent over my crying sister. I felt stupid making the shushing noises like I’d seen Aunt Cely do before, so I reached in and touched the tip of my finger to the inside of Milena’s little open palm when she waved it above her face. “Hey,” I whispered. “It’s okay.”
She stopped wailing, and her blue eyes stared up at me like I was the coolest thing she’d ever seen. Her tiny fingers wrapped around the end of my forefinger, squeezing it tightly in her baby fist.
I felt myself smile, even as a tear rolled down my nose and fell on her little pink sheet, leaving a wet mark.
“She is not an it. And you don’t have a legal right to sue anyone, you selfish son of a bitch. You weren’t Kamella’s husband. You’re not on either child’s birth certificate.”
“Thank God for that.” Mateus huffed. “If you do this, you’re going to have to move away. You’ll have to raise the girl to think she’s your own. Best if she’s surrounded by people who don’t know.” He was pacing now. “The boy complicates things unless I take him with me. He knows too much. Kamella told him things she shouldn’t have. He could ruin everything if he doesn’t play along.”
“You’re insane. I don’t know what my sister ever saw in you, but you can leave this house now and go straight to hell for all I care, because I don’t need your crazy advice or your help. And it’ll be over my dead body that you ever take Raul to Brazil with you.”
I lay in bed with Bethany after she fell asleep, listening to the sounds of her breathing and her steady heartbeat to make sure she was okay. In my head, I ran over all the ways that I would make this up to her.
I could make it up to her.
She would forgive me. She would understand.
Bethy was different. She’d always been unique in the way that she took people for who they were—even when they didn’t fit into familiar societal categories or conform to acceptable standards of right and wrong. I’d noticed that about Bethy long before my wolf had identified her as our mate.
She would understand I’d done what was best for her—that I’d done this to protect her.
“Your future mother-in-law’s here,” Mike informed me from the doorway. “In the elevator on her way up.”
Reluctantly, I extracted myself from my mate.
“Stephen and I’ll take Gregg and check in with the guys. Reach out if you need help charming Marlee,” Mike offered, lingering in the doorway. “I was thinking I could try my Russian accent on her.”
Mike didn’t hover unless he had something to tell me that I wouldn’t like. But I ignored him while I rearranged Bethany into a more comfortable position on the bed—one that would also better conceal her bite marks.
“What?” I finally asked as I was tucking the covers around her.
“I’ve ordered Wyatt back from Puerto Iguazú.”
My head came up. “Why? That wasn’t your call. Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“It’ll be good for Bethany.”
“Still not your call.”
His back straightened. “Wyatt’s a newly transformed wolf. He can provide a newcomer’s perspective. Plus, he’s mated, therefore completely safe to have around Bethany. He can help fill in history on Sloane, Avery trusts him implicitly, he’s easily controlled, and he comes across as the least threatening member of our entire pack.”
He had a point. Several good ones, in fact.
“Not to mention, he witnessed Avery’s unassisted transformation, which may also prove useful in getting Bethany to understand the situation that—”
“You’ve sold me. Just keep him away from Alcaeus.”
“Already planned for that.”
Of course he had. Mike thought of everything. “You talk to Rafe about Bethany?” I knew he had, but I wanted to confirm that Rafe had agreed to behave.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“He said he’d try.”
Motherfucker. “If he makes her uncomfortable, I’ll take his other eye. Did you tell him that?”
“Come on, you know he’s going to be rude and weird with her no matter what. The best we can hope for is that he behaves during her examination.”
“He won’t be examining her alone. Ever.”
Mike laughed. “Then you’ve got it covered.”
“Mrs. G, it’s so great to see you,” I greeted, giving Bethy’s mom my best All-American quarterback smile.
“Raul?” Mrs. Garrett whipped her oversized designer sunglasses off. “Raul Caro?” Her eyes widened as she looked me up and down. “Oh, my stars, it is you. And you’re huge! What on earth are you doing here? Where’s my Bethany? I drove straight from Santa Cruz when I got the sex tapes and didn’t hear back from her. I phoned the hospital, and they said they’d cancelled her on-call shift for the weekend.”
“She’s in her room.” I leaned in and kissed Mrs. Garrett on both cheeks. “Sleeping.”
“Sleeping?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wait, why’re you—”
“Wow, Mrs. G, you look stunning—it’s like you haven’t aged a day,” I told her as I ushered her over the threshold.
“Ah, stop it. You’re crazy.” She giggled and blushed. “Really? You think so? Because I feel so old. You have no idea. I mean the pressure nowadays to stay youthful-looking in my line of work is—”
She gasped as she entered and saw the mess we hadn’t had time to fully clean up. “Oh, my sweet baby Jesus ... what happened?”
I cleared my throat and decided to go with a half-truth. “Gregg.”
Another gasp. “Gregg did all this?”
“Well … he came unannounced to confront Bethany and—”
“Ugh, that no-good cocksucker. I swear I’m gonna kick him in the nuts the next time I see him.”
I coughed. “That’d be one way to handle it.”
“I just can’t believe him—cheating before the wedding like that. And sending out that disgusting tape? What was he thinking?”
“He wasn’t. I’m afraid he was reacting more than anything.”
“Reacting?” She cocked her head at me. “To what?” She may have also frowned, but it was difficult to tell with all the Botox and filler she had in her forehead. “Why did you say you were here again? Don’t you live in South America now?”
“I do. I’m in town for a convention this week. Bethany and I ran into each other last night.”
She took a step back, pursing her lips as she eyed me up and down again. “You fucked my daughter.”
“I—what?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Raul.” She raised her pointer finger at me. “I know your type. And I know my daughter.”
Damnit, we’d had to compel Mrs. G the last time I’d kidnapped Bethany. I was hoping to avoid it this time around.
“Look, the truth is Bethany found out Gregg was
cheating a day or so ago. She went out last night with her girlfriends to blow off some steam. We happened to cross paths at a club and wound up having a bit of fun on the dance floor together.” Not a lie.
“You’re avoiding a straight answer.”
“You’ll have to ask your daughter. I don’t kiss and tell, Mrs. G.”
“Smooth. Very smooth.”
I laughed. “It’s the truth.”
“It’s a relative truth at best, Raul.”
“There are no eternal facts, as there are no absolute truths.”
Her lip curled in distaste. “I hope you didn’t get into my daughter’s pants throwing out sixth-grader Nietzsche quotes like that one. I spent a shit-ton of money on that girl’s education.”
“Ouch.” I placed my hand over my heart. “I seem to remember you liking me more than this the last time we saw one another.”
“Who says I don’t like you? Were you here when Gregg came over?”
“I was.”
“Good. Where’s the body?”
“Bottom of the Bay, of course. Where else?”
She smirked. “Atta boy. Let me know if you need an alibi.” The humor left her eyes. She leaned closer and asked, “Please tell me you terrified him just a tiny bit? Lie to me if you have to.”
“Yes. I took care of it, Mrs. G.” She had no idea how well I’d taken care of it.
“Well, that’s something at least.” She sighed; shook her head. “What a mess. I’m going to check on my daughter. Then I want words with you.”
She said it like I was in trouble, and I couldn’t contain my grin as I watched her disappear down the short hallway and into Bethany’s room.
Marlee Garrett had balls. It was easy to see where Bethany got her spunk. I’d been impressed with the way Mrs. G had handled herself a decade ago in the face of Gabe and Nuriel Salvatella when we’d shown up at the Garrett’s home to kidnap Bethany.
Of course, she hadn’t lasted long against the power of Gabe’s compulsion. With Bethany’s mind blocked, Gabe had worked his powers of persuasion through Marlee by compelling her to play along, having her wholeheartedly encourage her eighteen-year-old daughter to go to Argentina with three older men, only one of whom Bethany had known and trusted: me.
