by Susan Bliler
Her lips curled in that same sad smile she always bore like her face had forgotten that a real smile was supposed to reach her eyes.
“Hayes,” she breathed his name and turned to face him. She wobbled and he shot his hands out, grabbing her hips to steady her. She kept right on swaying like she’d been doing against the wall when he’d come in, and because it felt like the most natural thing to do, he pulled her hips into his and swayed with her. Her grin broadened a fraction before she leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder. He lifted a hand to hold it there and took a step to get them closer to the middle of the room and there they danced.
Holding her close, Hayes liked how she fit him perfect, her chin tucked against his shoulder, her head fit perfectly beneath his chin. He was just enjoying the feel of her against him when she started to speak. He knew she wasn’t talking to him because there was no way she’d expect anyone to hear her at the low mumble. His tipsy little Emma was just trying to purge.
“I was trying all day to ignore the fact that it’s his birthday. Aden took me to town and I suggested we stop for a drink, thought it would take off the edge. Then this song came on and I couldn’t pretend anymore.” She squeezed Hayes’ bicep where her fingers curled around it as if reassuring herself he was actually there.
He tightened his arms around her.
“He used to tell me I had the most beautiful eyes. I told him once how I wished they were blue because brown was so boring and common. He told me blue didn’t suit me and then he pulled me up off the couch and danced me slow while he sang Brown Eyed Girl in that deep tone of his. He didn’t take his eyes from mine the whole time. God, that man had a way of making me believe I was the most significant thing in his universe.”
Hayes kept right on dancing, hoping Emma would keep talking. When she didn’t, he sighed and relaxed taking her weight easily as she leaned into him. After a minute or two her shoulders shook slightly and he felt wetness dampen his chest where her face rested. He kept right on dancing and when the part in the song came, he murmured at her ear, “Blue ain’t your color.”
Emma must have been standing by the radio to replay the song because this time when it ended it didn’t start over. Pulling back, Emma stared up at him with imploring tears soaked eyes and in that moment, Hayes ached to give her whatever it was she needed.
“Whose birthday is it, Emma?” he asked quietly.
She didn’t hesitate to respond. “Dean’s.”
“Who is Dean?”
She looked toward the window with haunted eyes. “He’s the other cross out by Ruby.”
“Who is Dean, Emma,” he asked again, and then those haunted eyes were lifting to his.
“My husband.” Then she lifted up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t urgent, wasn’t desperate. It was just a silent plea for connection, so when her tongue peeked out, Hayes parted her lips and accepted the kiss. It was warm and tasted like his favorite whiskey mixed with honey. It was intoxicating and had him dropping one hand to her rib cage just below her breast, but before he could deepen the kiss or even pull her harder into him, Emma was pulling away. Head dipped, eyes cast downward, she silently walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her with a soft click and inside, Hayes’ wolf threw his head back and howled long and deep.
Chapter 18
Feeling like grit and tired of hiding, Emma padded from her room in worn jeans, an oversized peach sweater, and socked feet. Too hung over to even mess with it, she let her shower dampened hair hang loosely about her shoulders.
Hayes was in the kitchen, fiddling away with something yummy smelling on the stove, and Emma groaned inwardly. She owed the shifter an apology, but right now there were more pressing issues.
“Morning,” he greeted but didn’t turn to her. Instead, he retrieved a mug from the cupboard, filled it with more creamer than coffee—just the way she liked it—and turned to hand it to her. “How ya feeling?”
She settled herself at the table. “Like a cactus took a shit in my mouth and then thumped me upside the head with a brick.”
He grinned and then placed a bottle of ibuprofen next to the mug steaming between her hands.
“You are my hero,” she sighed as she opened the bottle, palmed a few pills and washed them down with her cinnamon flavored coffee. “Ughh!” she groaned, lifting a hand to her pounding head. “If vamps came today, I’d let them have me. They’d probably die of alcohol poisoning.”
Hayes chuckled and then turned and slid a plate in front of her. “You should eat. It’ll help.”
The sight of the scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast made her mouth water and her belly heave both in equal measure. “I’m not sure…”
“Eat,” he commanded, turning to point a spatula at her plate. “Trust me, I’ve had many one night stands with that Tennessee whiskey you favored last night. Food’ll help.”
Taking up her fork, Emma took a tentative bite of the scrambled eggs and when they didn’t immediately try to come back up, she took a few more bites. By the time half her plate was gone she was starting to feel nauseated and she wasn’t sure if it was from the food or the awkwardness hanging in the air between her and Hayes, so she settled her fork tine side down on the edge of her plate and wiped her mouth before taking a fortifying swig of coffee.
“I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was out of line.”
And of course, she’d timed it just perfect so that Hayes sat directly across from her with his own plate and mug of coffee, looking directly at her as her cheeks flamed.
“You were drunk.” Even white teeth bit into jam slathered toast. “Not outta line.” He chewed a minute and then swallowed before offering. “It’s not a big deal, Em. Don’t beat yourself up over that shit.”
While part of her was grateful he was willing to ignore her slight, a bigger part of her was wounded that he considered her kiss ‘no big deal’. She watched Hayes scarf down his food and only nibbled at hers before shoving the plate away from her with a groan as her belly heaved.
Hayes, the ass, actually had the gall to laugh as he cleared the dishes. When the plates were settled in sudsy water in the sink, he snagged her coat off the rack by the door.
“Come on,” he held out her coat. “Fresh air will help.”
Reluctantly she stood, taking his word for it. She’d only been drunk a handful of times in her life and her mode of recovery involved lying in bed all day and dying a slow death.
Outside, the crisp mountain air hit her feel force. She breathed in a deep clean breath of air and had to admit, it did have her feeling a little better.
Without asking, Hayes grabbed her hand and hooked it in the crook of his elbow as he led her slowly down the road. “Jaxon said you were spending time with Aden in hopes of forming a bond.”
She was too hung over to be ashamed though. “Yeah. Back up plan.”
He kept his eyes straight ahead, “Why…why’d you pick Aden?”
Her pulse tripped at the question and she wondered if he was serious. She angled her head to peek up at him but he wasn’t smiling. “Well, Jaxon is taken.” She wasn’t sure if he was aware of Jaxon and Udara’s relationship, but when he didn’t deny it, she assumed so. “Vance is a kid, and you…”
A heart beat passed and then another before Hayes prodded, “I what?”
“You said you didn’t want me. You hate humans, Hayes, and I’m very much a human.”
The sound of crunching under their feet was suddenly very loud in the silence that followed her admission. Part of her hoped he’d deny the words, and when he didn’t immediately do so, she felt her heart plummet.
“My mother was human,” Hayes began and had Emma looking up at him. “My father didn’t tell her what he was when they got together. He thought he could wait and show her and she’d love the life. She didn’t and by the time he came clean it was too late. She was pregnant and terrified and she wanted me out of her. As soon as I was born she hand
ed me off to my father and then she was gone! Fast forward nineteen years and I’m dating a girl, a human. I thought she was the one so I took her out and showed her what I was. She screamed and ran. She called me a fucking monster and the town’s folk drove me and my dad out of town, and it broke my father’s heart. We’re tied to our territory, it’s like a really significant member of our pack, so to be torn away from that. It was like a death in our family…again, and I’d done that to him this time. He’d already lost my mom and then he’d lost his home.”
She stopped walking and pulled him to a halt with her so she could face him and watch as he shook his head defeatedly.
“It was my fault. I had this stupid need to be accepted by one of them. My wolf needed to know that mom didn’t run because of what I was and I was trying to prove it to myself and it costs us again. Dad got sick and died shortly after the move and I know it was because I’d cost us our territory. Before he died, he told me that my mother had committed suicide after she’d left us and that he’d buried her on our land. He lost them both and it was on me!”
“Hayes…”
He angled his face away from hers, his dark brows bunching. “I’m not telling you this so you feel sorry for me. I’m telling you this because I want you to know where I’m coming from, what I’m working with.” He looked at her then, his eyes glowing. “But I don’t hate you, Emma. I just…don’t.”
One side of Emma’s mouth curled up. “Good. I don’t hate you either, Hayes, and we’re not all bad. Us humans I mean.” She lifted one slim shoulder. “I haven’t run screaming yet.”
He grinned at that, but it didn’t reflect in his eyes. “No, you haven’t. You’re made of some pretty stern stuff, little human.”
Her lips flat lined. “And I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all that my kind have done to you. I’m sorry for all you’ve had to endure. People are just…assholes.” She looked down and grabbed his hand, twisting their fingers together. “To be honest I don’t like people much either. It’s why I’m out here. Humans are a hideous species. Look what we’ve done to each other, to the earth, and to the animals. We’re a real shit show.”
“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t get down on your kind because of me.”
“I’m not, I’m just saying I’m sorry and that I understand, and your mom… Well, this is going to sound stupid as hell, but don’t take that personally. Some women just aren’t cut out for mothering. I know it doesn’t console much, but honestly you’d rather have her walk out like she did than stay and make you feel miserable and unwanted. Best to have a clean break. She cared about you enough to at least give you that. I mean, she could have stayed and faked it and everyday you would have seen it or sensed it. She would have been distant and you could have grown up chasing this thing that there was no way for you to attain. She didn’t do that to you though. She didn’t drag it out. There’s something of a gift in that alone.”
He was watching her with awe written on his expression. “Holy shit! I never thought of it like that.”
“Well you should. Makes it easier to swallow.”
“You’re pretty good at this you know?”
“What?”
“Reading people. Finding the silver lining. Making others see shit they don’t.”
Emma shrugged, “Years of practice.”
Her words had his grin slipping. “Udara said…” He swallowed audibly, not sure if he wanted to broach the subject.
Delicate brows speared down and he swore he saw panic flash across Emma’s eyes before she dipped her head. “What did she say?”
“She said you had it rough. That you’ve gone through pain on a level she’s never felt with anyone else…ever! That’s telling because we’re shifters and we’ve gone through some pretty horrific shit both physically and emotionally. She’s healed us all at one time or another and she knows every pack members deepest hurts. So when she said you’d been through worse than all of us, it brought me up short. You said you grew up sick that the other kids stayed away and you were alone. You wanna talk about any of that? I mean, I’m not promising to go all fucking ‘Confucius says’ and I probably won’t even be able to offer you a fraction of the knowledge or insight you just laid on me, but I’m at least willing to listen. I know how it can be to hold that shit inside, Em.”
Emma turned her head to the side, exposing the slender column of her throat with the action. It wasn’t lost on him that she wouldn’t look at him, still, he waited.
Chapter 19
Emma actually felt nauseated at the prospect of laying her soul bare for Hayes. She had been through it and after Dean died, there hadn’t been anyone to listen or to help her process his loss. But, Hayes was right. Keeping shit bottled up was suffocating and she knew she needed to confide in someone, and he’d just showed her his wound, so…
“When my Dean got sick,” she licked her parched lips. “We didn’t think anything of it. Just a cold ya know. It happens all the time out here. You build up a sweat while working in the cold and then next thing you know you’ve got the flu.” She kept her eyes pinned on the woods. “He was so damn strong,” she jerked her chin in his direction but looked at his feet. “Like you. I’d never seen anything like it. He could work form sun up to sun down every single day and not once did he complain. He was just a really good man.” Her voice broke on the last word and it took her a few breaths and painful swallows to get herself under control. “I made him stay in bed and brought him soup and tea.” A sad grin ghosted her lips. “And he hated every second of it, but I was determined to take care of him until he was better.” The grin vanished as her brows knitted. “But he didn’t get better. Finally, I drove him into town and by then it was full blown pneumonia. They said because of his age and how strong he was that it’d pass. They gave us medication and sent us home, but he only got worse. I brought him back in and…” Her words came out a pained whisper, brittle like just the faintest breeze would make them shatter. “He died after a week and a half in the hospital. They said it was sepsis. I’d never even heard of it before that day.”
Emma didn’t look at Hayes, she couldn’t. The shame she felt was searing her from the inside out and she knew if she looked up and saw the realization on his face that it’d break her.
“I just wanted to be there for him, like he was for me. He was so good about how sick I’d been. It didn’t bother him,” she waved a hand absently down the length of her body. “Not any of it, but when it was my turn, I’d failed. He always took such damn good care of me and I’d failed him.”
When Hayes spoke his words were low like he was coaxing a small animal. “Hey, Em. He got sick. You couldn’t control that.”
Tears tracked down her cheeks as she shook her head in denial. She owned Dean’s loss, she always would. “I should have taken him to the clinic that first day. I should have demanded he go and then I should have made sure they checked out everything. I should have…” But words failed her as the familiar icy fingers of agony wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She lifted a hand to grip her chest where the ache was centered and her eyes fell closed as her fingers brushed the underside of the silicone breast form sewn into a pocket in her bra.
“He never even got the chance to love me fully because he was always so damn afraid of me getting sick again. He coddled me too much, took on too much of the work. We met after I’d gone into remission. They’d taken my left breast and the cancer with it, and I’d been so demoralized that I refused to let any man see me like that.” A grin ghosted her lips, “But Dean was so persistent. When I told him, I thought he’d run, but he told me it didn’t change anything. When we were finally together, I was so worried he’d be disgusted by my body. I couldn’t afford the reconstructive surgery so there was just this hideous scar where my femininity used to be, but he didn’t care. It didn’t bother him. When we got married I told him I’d get an implant so he didn’t have to deal with it and he got so damn mad.” Her shoulders shook with
a laugh and she swiped at her lips and sniffed. “Told me I was being silly and trying to waste good money on shit that didn’t need fixing. And it wasn’t just lip service. Every time that man touched me, he made me feel like I was beautiful, like I was wanted, like there wasn’t anything wrong with me. He made me feel like the center of his universe each and every day. Not a day—not one single day—passed without him telling me I was beautiful.
He loved me through my insecurities and I couldn’t even get him through an illness. An illness that was brought on because he was always shouldering the burden for both of us. He did too much trying to protect me, to keep me safe and healthy.” Finally, she looked at Hayes. “So that’s my burden. I lost my breast to disease and then I lost my heart when my weakness killed my husband. Pieces of me just keep getting ripped away and I’m so damn afraid that I’m just going to disappear little by little until one day I’m gone, but that’s on me. That’s what I’m dealing with.” She gave Hayes a watery smile as she groaned and rubbed the tears from her cheeks and sniffed. “And you thought you were a mess, right? I’m a God damn disaster.”
***
Whatever in the hell Hayes had been expecting Emma to reveal it certainly wasn’t the mountain of loss she’d just laid at his feet. Watching her tell it, scenting each emotion as it flitted through her was agonizing. Pain, regret, loss, misery, they were all intolerable, but when the scent of shame washed over her when she spoke of what she deemed were her failures in getting her man to the hospital sooner… Something had seized up inside of Hayes and he didn’t know what it was. He wanted to fucking punch something for all she’d endured while simultaneously fighting the urge to crush her to him and hold her tight while whispering that none of it was her fault. Watching her relay her past had ripped him open and standing before her, he felt like he was one giant gaping wound. He felt raw. His words about human’s and their “putrid diseases” came back to haunt him and shame so great flared to life in him that he felt as hollow and haunted as Emma looked. It wasn’t about him and his regrets right now though.
