by Meg Ripley
“I can make those if you like,” Jessie said. “I wasn’t sure what you had planned there.”
“I’ve got it.” I dumped the mixture into the pan and pushed them around over slow heat until they were fluffy. I knew how to make scrambled eggs, for Pete’s sake. Did she think I was a total idiot?
I scooped eggs onto three plates, and we sat at the small kitchen table to eat. That was how Logan and Alaina did it. Smaller, faster meals like breakfast and lunch were at the kitchen table, but dinner was in the dining room. Didn’t matter to me, but I was trying to keep things as much the same for Peyton as they had been.
“Would you like to say a prayer?” Jessie asked Peyton.
Peyton’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how.”
“I can say one,” Jessie offered.
I bowed my head obediently. That was different. We had never really prayed. I wasn’t opposed, though. We needed whatever help anyone would give, God included. After she prayed, we ate quietly at first, then Jessie started asking questions.
What would Peyton do in school today? What was her favorite subject? What was my job like? What time did I usually get home? What time did Peyton get home? What should she plan for dinner? Did anything need to be done in the house before she left or when she returned later?
I had answered the best I could, but by the time we were finished eating, I couldn’t think anymore. I was used to rolling out of bed, guzzling down some coffee and waking up on my drive to work. The entire process of getting a kid up and eating breakfast together—with Jessie—would take some getting used to.
After we ate, Jessie automatically got up and cleared the table, scraping any bits of food off before rinsing the plates, then put them in the dishwasher. By the time I came back out of the bedroom with my shoes and gear, Peyton already had her backpack on, shoes tied, and was waiting at the door. I was impressed, but then I noticed Peyton begin to cry. Jessie was crouching down, talking to her.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Jessie stood and gave me a sad smile. “It’s just a little hard going back, is all.”
I hadn’t even stopped to think about the fact that this was Peyton’s first day back since everything happened. The days had been blurring together. How many had passed since Logan’s death? Ten? Fifteen? It was my first day returning to work, too, but was Peyton ready to get back into the routine? Should I be sending her to school today or not? I wondered. I can’t make decisions like that. I don’t know what’s best for a child. I’ll see what Jessie’s thoughts are.
“Do you think…?”
She put her hands on Peyton’s shoulders. “We’re going to be extra brave today and tell the teacher if it gets too hard, right?”
Peyton nodded and wiped away her tears, and Jessie wrapper her arms around her, giving her a squeeze.
I knelt down and gave her an awkward hug. “If you need anything, just tell Mrs. Robinson to call me on my cell, okay? Uncle Conner loves you.”
She gave me a half-smile and nodded again.
We stood in the doorway until the bus turned the corner onto the road. With a final quick hug from each of us, Peyton took a deep breath and walked toward the end of the short driveway where the bus stopped.
Jessie waved enthusiastically, and I held up a hand as the bus drove off. When she turned back to us, she had tears in her eyes. “Poor little thing. This must be so hard for her. I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair. “Guess I’m off, too.”
“Do you want me to pack some of the leftovers for you to take for lunch?”
I blinked at her. In that moment, I had the thought, I haven’t just hired a nanny, I’ve hired a wife... My chest constricted and the air around me became thin as my bear threatened to make an appearance. “Oh no, thanks, I’ll just get something later.”
“Then, I guess I’m off until after school. Do you have a key, or…?”
“Oh yeah.” I went to the junk drawer in the kitchen and pulled out the extra key, which was on a ring with a plastic Disney World keychain. They must’ve gotten it when they went there as a family the summer before. I swallowed hard and handed it to her. “Just use this for now until I get another made.”
She tucked the key into her purse. “Hey.” She smiled at me with her hand on the door. “Good luck today. I know this must be hard for you, too.”
I nodded and watched her leave. I stood there for a moment, the emotions rushing over me. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to allow them to flow. I had work to do; whatever thoughts or feelings I had toward Jessie, I had to ignore them.
She was Peyton’s nanny, and nothing more.
9
Conner
As I drove to work, I tried to focus. I kept having flashes of that morning and the night before cycle through my head. And each time, a wave of pain and longing came.
I could not let Jessie in. I could not get close to her. When I got too close to people, they died.
That was why I kept my clan only as close as I had to, and they didn’t get inside my head more than our mental clan link would allow. Even then, I’d worked hard to build my own walls. They couldn’t get in. No one could.
I pulled into the station, hoping no one would make a big deal about the fact that I was back. That was precisely why I hadn’t told my supervisor I was coming in that day. I took a deep breath and headed inside.
As soon as I walked in, three heads snapped in my direction. There was a chorus of “Conner!” I nodded and headed upstairs to my supervisor’s office. His door was partly opened, but I knocked and waited for his response.
“Yeah?” he called.
I pushed the door open and stepped in. “Hey.”
“Oh.” He sat up straighter and set down his pen. “You’re suited up. You working today?”
I nodded. “Any updates?”
“On?”
I had to remind myself that my brother’s rescue wasn’t the only mission my team had had that month. It might have been the only one that mattered to me, but my boss would’ve had plenty of other things going on while I was out.
“Thought maybe you’d heard from the police on my brother’s case.”
He nodded. “We’ve been working with them as much as possible, but they haven’t needed us. I guess they have all the evidence there was, and now they’re following up on leads. Mason would have more information; I’m sure he can give you a better update.”
I nodded. I hadn’t been in contact with my clan much; not that they hadn’t tried to reach out, but I wasn’t up for visiting or talking with anyone. I hadn’t even wanted updates on the case until that day. But once I’d decided to get back to it and get something done, I wanted all the details.
“I think I’ll head over to the police station,” I said. “See what’s going on, and if I can be of any use.”
“Sure, man. Whatever you need.”
My eye twitched. “What I need is to find the bastard that killed my brother and his wife, and to get back to work so that I can have some semblance of normalcy again.”
“That’s a good plan. You just tell me how I can help you do that.”
“By not acting like I need special treatment.”
He nodded and sized me up. “I get that; I do. But I also need to know that you’re up for any mission I send you on. I can’t have you going out there before you’re ready and letting the team down.”
My hands curled into fists. “I’m ready.”
“Then if you don’t give me a reason to question that, I’ll see to it that things resume as they were before you left. Go on now and head over to the precinct. Report back with any updates.”
“Thank you, sir.” I turned and left, my anger slowly fading.
When I pulled up to the police station, I saw Mason’s car. At first, I was relieved, but a shot of anxiety rushed through me as I parked. He might make a thing of this. I hoped he was smarter than that, but I’d been kind of MIA lately.
I nodded at the officer at reception and walked over to Mason’s desk. “Hey.”
He looked up, and the shock was obvious on his face. “Conner.” He set down the papers he’d been looking at and turned to me. “Back to it?”
“I’m here for an update.”
“Sure thing.” He pulled open a file cabinet and took out a folder. “I wish I had more to tell you. It’s been infuriatingly slow going.”
I sat in the chair opposite of him. “What can you tell me?”
“Besides knowing it was a croc, not much else. The swamp eliminated most of the evidence, including scent. It had been raining the night it happened, which weakened the scent around the area and washed out prints. We’ve been carefully questioning all those we could, but you know how it is when it’s a shifter thing.”
I did. Resources were limited and things had to be done more carefully. Part of the police force didn’t have all the details, and they never would.
“What’s being done about it?” I asked. “We had the incident with crocs killing panthers, and now this. How much further does it have to go? What do we even have a conclave for if we’re never going to get them involved?”
“We are. I’m not sure exactly why Owen didn’t think the panther killings were worth getting them involved over. If it were up to me, I would have, but it wasn’t. I guess he thought we’d handled it.”
“Or his pride got in the way,” I added.
Mason shrugged. Owen was a good guy and a great leader. I probably shouldn’t have said it, but dammit, that was what the conclave was for—adjudicating shifter-on-shifter crimes—and if he thought we should handle it on our own, then I’d have to talk to him myself.
“Like I said,” Mason continued. “We are going to them. We had a meeting the other night. We did text you about it.”
I pressed my lips together. I’d gotten the text, then ignored it in my drunken haze.
“Well, we discussed it,” Mason said, “And we are going to them to get them involved. The crocs have been running amuck and causing too much trouble.”
“Good. I want them out.” I punched my open palm. “All of them.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it. We can’t just demand their removal.”
“I don’t see how we can’t. First, they attacked Owen’s girl, then they went after the panther population, now they’re murdering bears? Have many more innocent bystanders have to die before someone steps up and does something about these assholes? They act like they own the ‘Glades, and they won’t stop until they do.”
“Keep your voice down,” Mason whispered. “There are humans here. I hear you. I wish we could, but they have just as much right to be here as any other shifter group.”
I clenched my teeth and kept my voice low but hard. “No other shifter groups are killing.”
“And that’s why we’re going to the conclave. Talk to Owen. You should really be there when he goes.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I want to make sure this is taken care of and not just sugarcoated.”
Mason glared at me. “Do you honestly think Owen doesn’t care about what happened? Do you think that just because Logan and Alaina weren’t part of our clan, that he cares less about them? He doesn’t, Conner, and you need to get past your own pain long enough to see that. He’s doing everything he can. He’s going out of his mind trying to solve this, and so is the rest of the clan. If you’d come around once in a while, you’d know that.”
“Been a little busy.”
“I know. And we’re all hurting for you, but we can’t help you if you shut yourself out. Talk to us. Let us know what’s going on with you. Let us help you.”
I slammed my palms on his desk and pushed the chair back as I stood. “I don’t need your fucking help; I don’t need anyone’s help. I’ll handle my shit the way I handle it. As for the investigation, let me know the second you have something. That is, if you actually decide to do your job anytime soon.”
Mason’s face hardened, and he set his jaw as I turned from him. I slammed the door on my way out and peeled out of the parking lot so fast, my tires spit gravel.
10
Jessie
“So,” Nikki said, curling up on the couch with a pint of ice cream, “I’ve noticed you haven’t been complaining about Conner as much lately.”
I set my purse down and sat beside her, then reached for her container of chocolate peanut butter swirl and took a generous spoonful. “I guess it’s getting better. Peyton’s doing well in school. I think she needed the distraction, honestly. And Conner…I don’t know. I mean, he pays me well and all. But I really like Peyton. We’re getting closer, and I think she feels comfortable telling me things she won’t tell him. I guess that’s a good thing?”
“It is.” Nikki took the container back. “She needs someone to talk to. I’m sure you remind her of her mom in some ways. You’re there every day, making sure she gets to school, does her homework, eats, bathes and all that. She needs that sort of caregiver, and I don’t think Conner is able to be that yet. Do you?”
“I’ve tried to make suggestions to guide him. Like, ‘Hey Conner, why don’t you and Peyton go wait for the bus at the end of the driveway together?’ Little ways he can spend time with her and show her he cares. But he usually just says that he wants to do things how they’ve always been done. I guess he’s trying to keep things as consistent as possible.”
Nikki sighed. “He’s clueless. And it might be doing more damage. Things will never be the same for Peyton. How can he not get that?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to reach through to him. He needs time, too, and I get that. But I think we’re getting somewhere. It’s been, what, almost three months now, and he’s finally starting to treat me like a person instead of hired help. He’s been…nicer. It’s been slow going, but he’s just a tiny bit nicer every day.” I took the ice cream container back and stuffed another spoonful in my mouth.
“Good. He’s seeing someone, isn’t he?”
“What?” My heart lurched, and I was surprised at my reaction. “Oh, I don’t know. Is he? He hasn’t brought anyone home or mentioned anyone.”
Nikki raised her eyebrows and set down the container. “Whoa. Okay, what did you think I meant? Seeing someone like a girlfriend?”
My face felt hot, and I tried to play it off like nothing. “Isn’t that what you meant?”
“No. I meant seeing a therapist. To deal with all this.”
“Oh. He said something about that, yeah. Peyton’s been going every week and they have a session coming up where he’ll be going with her. I think that will be good for them both.”
Nikki sat back and crossed her arms. “What I really want to talk about is the way you reacted when you thought he was dating someone.”
“I was just surprised because he never said anything, and he doesn’t seem…ready for that.”
“You have feelings for him,” she accused.
“I do not!” But even I heard the panic in my voice. “He’s my boss, Nikki.”
“Exactly. Your super-hot boss who pays you to basically be his wife.”
“He does not! I’m there for Peyton, and that’s it.”
Nikki gave a smug smile. “Are you still applying at other places?”
“No,” I admitted. “But only because it’s been going really well. Like I said, the pay is good, and things are getting better, and I…I feel like they need me.”
“Oh, god.” She shook her head.
“What!”
“You totally want him.”
“I do not.” I took the ice cream and refused to give it back until I’d finished it off.
“I don’t blame you. I knew him before all this happened, and he was a great guy. He’d actually be good for you.”
I shook my head. “He is not my type at all, and again, he’s my boss. I don’t want to get mixed up in something like that, and I think it would confuse Peyton.”
“So, you have though
t about it.”
I let my head fall back and growled in frustration. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Say it!” Just like she used to do when we were kids, she started tickling my ribs—which I hated.
“Okay! Okay!” I squealed. “I’ll admit it! He’s fucking hot!”
She sat back down with a satisfied smile. “I knew it.”
“Doesn’t change anything.”
“Maybe not. But maybe it will. You never know.”
“I just wish I knew how to help them both better. I’m a teacher, not a psychologist. I just feel like I could be doing more.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Nikki patted my hand. “They both have therapists for that, and it’s not your job. You’re there to take care of Peyton. And maybe Conner a little, too, but who’s keeping track?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nannies do that. They take care of the household.”
“Not as much as you do. You’re like his housekeeper and nanny in one. I mean, it’s like you’re his wife already, so you might as well sleep with the guy and get the full benefit.”
“God, would you let it go already?” I slapped her arm.
She laughed. “Just saying.”
“Well, I’m done with this conversation.” I got up and threw out the ice cream container, then dropped the spoon in the sink. “I’m off to bed.”
“Have sweet dreams!” she called to me. Then added, “About Conner!”
I tried to put her words out of my head as I dressed for bed, but I couldn’t. Most of them were true, and that was why the whole thing bothered me so much. I did like him. He’d become a lot more pleasant to be around over the last few weeks, and I began to actually look forward to seeing him. I tried to talk to him and take care of him the best I could, which, yes, did involve more housework than I initially signed up for, but it was my choice. I had student loans to pay, and the extra cash he offered for doing his laundry and mopping the floor made it well worth it.
But there were days, especially when I folded his boxer briefs and tucked them away in his drawer, that things felt a little…intimate. Maybe too much so. I felt like a wife in some ways: taking care of Peyton, preparing dinner, looking out for Conner, cleaning up…but for as much as I did around the house, any emotional connection with Conner was nonexistent. He didn’t talk to me like a girlfriend, or even like a close friend. More like a coworker that he spent a lot of time with and got to know by proxy.
