Mike’s head swiveled toward where Mollie stood at the edge of the cliff as a new idea occurred to him.
Is she my mate? His fangs lengthened again as he contemplated the possibility while studying her. He’d never reacted to someone the way he did her, but they’d barely spent any time together. However, in the short time they’d been together, he’d come to know her better than most of the other women he’d encountered over the years, and unlike them, he planned to learn more about Mollie.
He had to get her out of this mess before something happened to her. He didn’t know how he would react if that occurred.
But first, he had to take care of her.
“There’s water nearby,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I can smell it,” he said. “And where there is water, there will also be animals to hunt.”
“I’m coming with you.”
He didn’t disagree with her; he wasn’t ready to let her out of his sight. “Come on.” He held his hand out to her.
After a hesitation, Mollie took it and ducked her head as a blush crept into her cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him again while he led her through the woods. When they arrived at the small stream, Mike released her to hunt, while Mollie made her way to the edge of the shallow creek.
Around her, the birds sang and fluttered through the trees, but even they seemed more subdued than typical birds. It was as if they couldn’t erase the horrors of the night from their minds either. Kneeling, she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and washed away some of the grime on her hands. If her mouth weren’t so dry, she would have drooled at the tantalizing water sliding through her fingers and over her skin.
Do not drink it. Do not drink it. She had to repeat this over and over again as she resisted cupping her hands and bringing the cold water to her lips.
Unable to take any more, she retreated from the creek and settled on a rock with her back to the water. Shrugging the rifle off, she held it before her as she studied the woods and listened for anything unusual while Mike stalked the forest animals.
* * *
Mollie climbed out from between the branches of the pine tree Mike helped her climb into before he went to cook the squirrel and rabbit he captured. The scent of the pine and the thick needles kept her hidden from anyone who happened by—no one did.
Her mouth watered as the scent of the cooked creatures drifted to her, but more than that, she focused on the cup of water he handed to her like it was the lifeline it was. In his other hand, he held a pot full of more tempting water, and tied together by a strip of fur, the rabbit and squirrel dangled over his shoulder.
She restrained herself from snatching the water from him and gulping it down. She’d make herself sick if she did, especially on her empty stomach, and vomiting would not help her dehydration. Lifting the cup to her mouth, she took a couple of small sips of the hot water.
She swished it in her mouth before swallowing. Reluctantly setting the cup aside, she grasped the squirrel and rabbit he offered her. She was so hungry she didn’t bother to think about how cute they were when they still had fur.
“Where did you learn to shoot a rifle?” Mike asked when she tossed the squirrel remains aside.
Mollie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. “My mom rarely came back to visit her family in Canada after she left because it was so far away, but she grew up around hunters, and though she didn’t like hunting, she enjoyed shooting. She believed her daughters should know about guns too, and when each of us turned thirteen, she took us to a firing range and started teaching us.”
“Can you use other guns too?”
“Yes. I’m no sharpshooter, but I hit my target more often than I miss it.”
“That’s good.” She may be weak in her mortality, but at least she had this advantage over the Savages stalking them.
“Yeah,” Mollie said before turning her attention to the rabbit.
“What about your dad?” he asked.
Mollie’s fingers froze on the rabbit before she lifted her head to look at him. “What about him?”
She willingly spoke of her mother, but hostility shimmered in her eyes and her shoulders stiffened at the mention of her father. Mike was eager to learn more about her, but her father appeared to be a touchy subject. Uncertain of how to proceed, he decided carefully was his best option.
“You’ve never mentioned him,” he said.
“Why would I? He was barely a part of my life. When I was seven, he walked out the door and never looked back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? He’s the asshole, not you.”
Well, at least she didn’t consider him an asshole; Mike supposed that was a bonus.
“He was thoughtful enough to send us a card after our mom died. Though, he did spell my name with a y instead of an ie.” Bitterness laced her voice as she ducked her head. “But I guess you forget how to spell your daughter’s name when the last card you sent her was for her eleventh birthday. For years, I waited for another card with its five-dollar bill to show up. And then, on the day I turned seventeen, I realized it was never going to happen, and I stopped waiting.”
Mike couldn’t tell if she was angrier at herself or her father for those years of waiting, but he suspected it was more her.
“Aida doesn’t remember him. She didn’t realize who the condolence card was from until I told her, but I remember him, and I especially remember him leaving. I believed everything was perfect before that day; I was wrong.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Mollie grew silent, Mike hoped if he remained quiet, she would continue speaking, and after a few minutes, it worked.
“The man is the biggest cliché there is,” she muttered. “He hit forty, had a midlife crisis, banged his twenty-something-year-old secretary, left his family for her, and moved to California. As far as I know, they’re still together. I may have other siblings, but I never intend to find out how his life is going. He did put his number on the card and wrote he hoped we could talk, but I think it’s better if I leave that door on my life closed.”
Mollie saw Mike’s gaze fall on her Rolex. “My grandpop’s watch,” she said. “He died ten years ago. After my father left, he assumed a more fatherly role in our lives.”
Mollie’s fingers brushed lovingly over the watch face as she recalled her grandpop’s warm smile, the way he called her his Mollie-bug, taught her to fish, and would regale her with the stories of the fantasy worlds he created. Every one of his hugs was a bearhug where he lifted her off the ground and spun her around.
He’d helped with her homework; grocery shopped for her mom when she started working two jobs, cleaned their house, cooked them dinner, and loved them all until the day he died of a heart attack when she was thirteen.
She’d felt so out of control, lost, and broken after his passing. Back then, she’d still been foolish enough to believe her dad might want something to do with her again. She could never harbor such secret hopes about her grandpop coming back.
“His son is an asshole, but my grandpop was a good man who loved all of us very much. My father didn’t bother to come back for his funeral.”
Mike decided not to question her further about her father, but he did wonder if she’d kept the card or his number. “What do you do in Rhode Island?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you go to college? Do you work?”
“I waitress during the day at a local diner and take a couple of online courses at night. I plan to take more classes online and maybe attend community college once Aida leaves for school, but I’ll see how it goes. I put off going to college while my mom was sick so I could help with her care. After she died, I took over raising Aida. Aida’s a good kid who has her head on straighter than most kids her age who have gone through far less than her, but after losing our mom, I vowed to give her as much of my time as I could. Now, I’m going to pursue a career.”
“
And what career is that?”
“I’m going get my masters and then my graduate degree in psychology. I plan to work with people who have eating disorders with a focus on teens.”
The defiant way she held his gaze made him realize there was more to her revelation than helping people. “That’s a pretty specific field,” he said, unsure if he was wading into another minefield as he had with her father.
Mollie sipped her water as she contemplated how to respond, but something about Mike made it easier to open up to him than any of her therapists. “They say to do what you know, and I have some experience with eating disorders.”
Mike’s gaze raked her slender frame; she was lean, but a healthy weight for her height. Then he recalled her words from when they sheltered beside the river. “It’s okay; I’m used to going without eating.” At the time, he hadn’t known what to make of those words, but he did now.
“Personal experience?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you still…?” Mike tried to think about how to ask the question.
“No. It’s something I got a handle on before my mom’s cancer diagnosis.”
She stared at him for a minute before deciding to continue. She’d told him this much already.
Taking a deep breath, she told him about those years between thirteen and sixteen—the calorie counting, the hunger, the never being thin enough or good enough feeling that followed her everywhere. To her amazement, she revealed more to him than any of her therapists or the friends she made in her group sessions. She even admitted she’d occasionally purged too, though she hated doing it.
“At my lowest, I couldn’t sleep because my hips or spine would dig into the mattress, and I couldn’t walk upstairs without getting winded. Between my mother’s constant worry and pushing me into counseling, and the knowledge that at fifteen, I couldn’t climb a flight of stairs without feeling like my heart would explode, I finally agreed to get help.
“It took another year for me to understand my anorexia better and gain control of something I was certain I controlled. And in the end, that’s what a lot of my disorder was about, having control over something. I couldn’t control so many things in my life—my dad leaving, my grandpop dying, things with school and friends—but I could control what I ate.”
When she finished, Mollie dreaded looking into his eyes and seeing revulsion or pity there; she’d seen it so often in the gazes of her friends when they realized what she was doing to herself. However, in Mike’s eyes, she saw no revulsion or pity; instead, there was only compassion.
“But you’re healthy now?” he asked. Listening to her tale of fearing a heart attack while climbing stairs had caused his fangs to extend again.
“Very healthy. It’s something I live with every day and probably will for the rest of my life, but I have a grip on it. I eat healthy; I do a lot of yoga as it helps to clear my mind, and I go for walks without tracking miles and calories burned. I stopped counting calories when I eat, I avoid the scale, and if I want a donut, I have it without punishing myself afterward.
“When my mom died, one of my first thoughts was that I couldn’t eat, but I took a step back, regained control, and didn’t slip into old patterns to handle a stressful situation and bury my grief. I never believed I’d ever get this far with it, and I’m proud of my accomplishments.”
Mollie braced herself for the question nearly everyone asked: why didn’t you just eat? As if it were that simple, as if she hadn’t considered eating when she’d been so hungry it hurt, or drooling over a bagel with cream cheese before setting it aside?
She could easily recall the pride that reared its head when she restrained herself from eating something. That twisted pride in herself and how, in one small way, she was better than everyone else who ate whenever they were hungry while she didn’t have to give in.
Mollie waited for the question, but it didn’t come.
“Those kids will be lucky to have you on their side,” he said.
Unexpected tears burned her eyes. He was so different than anyone else she knew, and with those words, he hammered down more of the defenses surrounding her heart.
“What about you? What do you do?” she asked to distract him from more questions about her.
Mike shrugged before rising and wiping his hands on his jeans. He’d fed while cooking Mollie’s food, but one glance at her neck made him hungry again. Typically, he could go a couple of days between feedings, but being around her pushed his restraint.
“For the past thirty years, I’ve helped raise my nieces and nephews, built houses, and lived life like I was retired, but it’s been an interesting thirty years.” He gave her a brief rundown of what happened with Liam, his wife Sera, their ten children, and the children of those children. He told her about Jack, David, and Doug and what they’d all been through over the years. “It’s been a crazy time.”
“Sounds like it,” Mollie replied. “What did you do before you became a vampire?”
“I did the normal human things. Played with my friends, visited my grandparent's farm, went to high school, then to college. I was a linebacker on my high school and college football teams.” He didn’t tell her he’d been the star of those teams. It was so long ago, to brag about it now would put him in line with Al Bundy. Besides, Mollie wasn’t the type to be impressed by sports achievements.
“What did you go to college for?” she asked.
“The parties,” he answered with a rueful smile. “I even did the frat thing.”
“Of course you did,” she said with a chuckle.
“I think, if Beth hadn’t come along and changed all our lives, I would have gone on to be a coach or gym teacher. I really would have enjoyed coaching.”
“I could see you as a coach.”
Mike pondered what his life would have been like if Beth hadn’t entered it before shutting his imagination down. He didn’t like the boredom and thirst that came with being a vampire, and recently he’d felt more adrift and lonely, but he loved his family and his life.
And he wouldn’t have met Mollie if he’d remained human.
Watching her as she licked the last of the rabbit juice from her fingers, he knew he wouldn’t have changed anything.
“I did buy a house recently,” he said. “I plan to fix it up and flip it. I thought it would be a fun project to undertake by myself. Over the years, we’ve built several homes together and learned how to do every aspect of it, but I’m going to do this one on my own.”
“How come?”
“Something to keep me occupied. Lately, I’ve been feeling a little… I guess you could say bored... or maybe lost.”
Mollie’s eyebrows rose at this admission. She never would have expected him to say he felt lost. He carried himself with a confidence few others did, but more than that, when he talked about his family and how close they were, love radiated in his voice.
“But you have such close friends and a large family,” she said.
“Yes, and they mean the world to me, but many of them are settling down and starting their own families.”
“Are you on the lookout for Mrs. Right, Mike?” she teased, yet she found herself breathlessly waiting for his answer.
Staring into her striking green eyes, Mike was becoming increasingly convinced he’d already found her, but he couldn’t say that. “I’m keeping my eyes open,” he replied with a smile.
Mollie ducked her head when an unexpected blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She hadn’t blushed this much in her entire life, but she couldn’t seem to stop around him. “Wouldn’t you eventually grow bored with only one woman?”
“No.”
The emphatic answer drew Mollie’s attention back to him. “How can you be so sure?”
“When vampires find their mate, they stay with them for life.”
“Their mate?”
“Yes. Some vampires have mates, and when they discover that human or vampire, they forge an eternal bond with them throu
gh an exchange of blood and sex.”
Despite her apprehension about the entire vampire thing, his words piqued her curiosity. “A human can be the mate of a vampire?”
“Yes, but if they are, they cannot remain human. The vampire will be driven by the need to make them immortal to complete the bond and ensure the safety of their mate. I’ve seen what an incomplete bond can do to a vampire and how unstable it can make them, but once it is complete, they calm again. The bond also makes both vampires stronger. A vampire never strays from their mate, and if one dies, the other dies or goes insane. A vampire will also destroy anyone who threatens their mate.”
“And you’re hoping to find your mate?”
“Yes.”
She couldn’t form words to reply as they stared at each other until the seconds ticked away a minute.
“What is your full name, Mollie?” Mike asked to break the tension after his revelation.
He’d considered not telling her anything about vampires and their mates, but if she was his mate, then she should be prepared for what could happen in the future. However, he’d barely delved into the realms of how insane a vampire could go when the bond was incomplete or they were forcibly separated from their mate.
“Would you like my middle name too?” she inquired, trying to sound teasing, but it came out strained.
“Sure.”
“Mollie Jean McConnell. And yours?”
“Michael Paul Wright.”
Mollie nodded, finished off her water, and wiped her hands on her jeans before digging into her pocket for the pack of gum. She slipped a piece into her mouth and offered one to Mike; he took it. Mollie almost laughed at a vampire chewing gum, but she was too tired to laugh. She returned the dwindling pack to her pocket and examined the woods.
Consumed: The Vampire Awakenings, Book 8 Page 11
