by Lauren Dawes
One of the nurses smiled at him, the gesture shuttered like she knew exactly why he was here. It wasn’t a damn secret, though, was it? She’d come in OD’ing on a Speedball. Richard, the fuck, was somewhere else in this building, but the Doc wouldn’t tell him where. He guessed he had the Hippocratic Oath to uphold. Protecting that piece of shit from Jett only made him angrier. Richard owed him, and he’d take his pound of flesh.
Thank God Katya was safe. If only he could say the same for Luce. His other sister he would pay a visit to after seeing his mom. He needed to make sure she was being kept safe, even if her boyfriend was some cocksucking human.
Right.
The door.
Gotta push through the door.
Letting out a breath, he let himself into the room and abruptly came to a stop. His mom was hooked up to machines, all of them beeping softly—intermittently. He scanned her from head to toe, trying to find what was left of his mom. Her face was different, her eyes sunken, her skin pitted and scarred. Her lips were a pale pink, like even her blood couldn’t give a fuck anymore. Lids were shut over eyes the same color as Katya’s, and even her height had seemed to change. She was smaller somehow, stooped maybe. A white sheet was pulled up over her too thin body, her arms placed on either side of her torso.
Walking up to the side of her bed, he pulled the plastic chair closer to the rail and sat down. His eyes made another pass, trying to place everything he knew into this moment. His mom had OD’d. She had died. Twice. But the Doc had brought her back both times. He’d told Jett that his mom’s body had been through a lot, had endured a lot, and the loss of oxygen and blood supply to her brain had been extensive, so only time would tell if she would recover fully or only partially.
And so here he was. Staring down at her. Hoping she didn’t pull through this. That was a horrible thought for a son to have, though. The thing was, she hadn’t been a mother to him for a very long time, and that distance had brought with it an estrangement he barely noticed anymore.
“What have you done, Mom?” he asked, suddenly angry. He didn’t cry, even though he could feel the tears sitting there, pricking the backs of his eyes. He wouldn’t let them fall for her. He had wasted too much already.
“Goddamn you,” he said, yet he stayed right where he was. He wouldn’t go back without spending some time with her. As he watched, her eyes rolled fitfully behind her lids, her mouth working around the tube that had been inserted into her throat. He stood up, peering down into her face. Her eyes suddenly flipped open, and she stared at him, her eyes so wide, he could see the whites all the way around.
“Mom? Can you hear me? Mom?”
Her eyes were wild, her gaze bouncing around the room, never lingering on one spot for more than a few seconds. She lifted her arms, her hands curling into weak fists.
“Mom!” he yelled. Spinning around, he yelled for the nurse before turning back around. She was trying to bite the tube, the one that was keeping her lungs going.
“Don’t bite it,” he said, rubbing her arm. “Don’t—Fuck!” The machines on either side of her starting blaring. Where the fuck was the—
“Step back, please, sir,” the nurse said, all but shoving him out of the way. That was no mean feat. He was a little under two hundred pounds of pissed off shifter, but the female didn’t seem to notice or care. He stepped back, pressing himself against the far wall as another nurse ran in and shut all the alarms off. Jett couldn’t take his eyes off his mother as her eyes rolled back in her head, her body jerking spasmodically. Her hands were flexing and releasing, flexing and releasing as a seizure wracked her body.
“What’s happening?” Doctor Winchester barked as he ran in. He had a stethoscope slung over his neck, his white coat fluttering behind him then settling as he came to a full stop. The first nurse stepped back to allow the doc a better view of things, and that’s when it all went to shit.
“She’s flatlining!” someone shouted.
A giant bag was attached to his mom’s tube, one that inflated her lungs within her ribcage. The doctor took over the motion, yelling at one of the nurses to start chest compressions. As lithe as the cat she shared her body with, she leapt onto the table and started pumping his mom’s chest, the sound of her ribs cracking with the force.
“You don’t want to see this, son,” the doc said, his expression grim. “Wait outside.”
Jett didn’t even have the strength to fight the order. He simply nodded and moved out of the way. He winced when the door eased shut behind him, his whole body feeling lighter than he anticipated. His legs crumpled beneath him, and he slid to the floor, vaguely aware that he was in the doorway.
Some time later, a nurse approached him and helped him stand, leading him over to a chair she’d placed there. Getting him settled, she pressed a plastic cup of water into his hand, then crouched down in front of him.
He focused on her face. She had pretty eyes.
“How are you doing?”
“F—” He licked his lips and tried again. “Fine.” His voice was a croak he hardly recognized. “My mom?”
Her lips pursed, and he knew it wasn’t going to be good news. “I’m not sure yet. They’re still working on her.”
Working on her.
Like she was a car whose engine just wouldn’t turn over.
He guessed it wasn’t too far from the truth. His mom’s engine had stopped, but it wasn’t something that could be fixed. She’d chosen her death, and even though it may be slow, it was happening all the same. Poison, after all, would eventually stop a person’s heart, and then it was lights out.
No more encores.
He stood up, making the nurse back up or get knocked over. He didn’t know where he was going to go, but he knew he couldn’t stay there any longer.
“Jett, don’t you want to see if your mother—”
“Fuck my mother,” he shot back, cutting her off. “Fuck her for choosing drugs over us,” he muttered to himself.
Outside the clinic, he turned his phone back on and found a message from Mila. She didn’t want him to come and see her, and didn’t that just make him want to fuck her over. Walking to his bike, he double-checked the address Katya had given him and started the bike. He probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind to be talking to his sister, but damn it, he was going.
It only took him thirty minutes to get there, and as he parked on the street in a middle-class neighborhood, he stared up at the house. It was nice. Flower beds. Tidy lawn. A sealed driveway. Siding not falling off. Mila had certainly moved up from the trailer. He didn’t resent her for it. How could he? He’d upped and left as soon as he could.
Getting off the bike, he removed his helmet and placed it on the seat. He walked up that perfect path, glowering at the flowers planted along the length. He didn’t know why he was being such a fucking jerk about it, though. It wasn’t the flowers’ fault for being there. At the door, he knocked then stepped back, his eyes scanning to see the neighbor next door out in the garden pruning the rose bushes. The woman looked at him and smiled, then got back to deadheading her blooms.
When the door opened, he was surprised to see Mila there, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. Like she was waiting for a blow to come.
“What are you doing here? I told you not to come.”
“I’ve never listened to what you say.”
Behind the storm door, her gray eyes were icy, her face looking more severe with her honey-blonde hair pulled away from her face. That hair color was the only thing they shared, but then again, only getting half your DNA from the same mother would do that. They all had different fathers, but Jett didn’t know who Luce’s was. His mother had been ‘dating’ about three males around that time. Honestly, he didn’t care. Luce was his little sister, and he loved her all the same.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again.
“Has Katya called you?” A curt nod. “Then you know it’s not safe right now.”
She actuall
y rolled her eyes at this statement. “I’m fine here. Robby is taking care of me.”
He smiled cruelly. “Ah, yes, Robby the human, who doesn’t know a thing about your real life.”
Yeah, he’d totally sneered over the word human, like it was dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.
“He loves me, Jett. That’s all I need to know.”
He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You’ve only been dating for a month.”
“Six months, Jett,” she hissed. “If you were ever around, you would’ve known that. But, nooooo, you had to take off and leave us in that shit hole with our shit hole mother and her fucking shit hole drug addiction.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek to stop himself from biting her head off. He got it. Abandonment was something they all suffered from, but come on. As if he was the only one to blame. She’d gone and done the same thing—shacking up with the first guy who showed her any sort of affection.
“Look, we can argue about this later, but I have something to tell you.”
One brow arched sharply. “Then use the phone and tell me. I don’t want to see you, especially not here.”
He felt the growl trickle from his throat, but he clamped down on the instinct to bite back. He was wounded, but so was she, and her words stung. He glanced over at the human attending the roses.
“Look, can we go inside and talk?”
“No,” Mila replied. “I don’t care what you have to say.”
“Even if it’s about our mom?”
Well, that worked. Like a needle being yanked off a record, she shut her mouth and stared at him.
“What about her?”
“She OD’d. She’s down at the clinic. I just came from there.”
Those arms of hers tightened. “Is she okay?”
Jett remembered the way her body had gone into seizure, the uncontrolled movements. Slowly, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Not this time.”
“Was Richard there when it happened?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to him?”
“What do you care?” he shot back, cursing himself a little at the harshness of his tone. “Look, I’m sorry,” he replied. “He’d OD’d too. The doc got him back online, but I don’t know what happened after that.”
Mila’s expression hardened. “Because you left, didn’t you?”
Jesus. “Mila—”
“No!” she screamed. “Fuck you, Jett. I’m happy here. Robby takes good care of me.” She stepped away from the door, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge.
“Mila! Wait! There’s something—”
His words were cut off as she slammed the door in his face.
“Dammit!” He wasn’t going to tell her that Luce had also gone missing through the door.
Goddammit, was he ever going to catch a break? Turning around, he walked back down the path, waving politely to the woman who was openly staring now. Yeah, he guessed domestic disputes in the middle of the day weren’t really par for the course in this neighborhood. She bobbed her head and hustled through the side gate of her yard.
As Jett got back onto his bike, a new Toyota Tundra pulled into the drive and parked in front of the single car garage. Jett waited to see this cocksucker Robby, ready to threaten him with castration if he didn’t take care of his sister.
The guy popped the door and got out, his gaze swinging toward him like he had a fucking neon sign hanging over his head.
“Can I help you?” the guy asked, his body tense like he was ready to throw down or some shit. Jett turned toward the guy, visually measuring him. He was about the same height as Jett, but his bones weren’t carrying the same kind of bulk. Plus, he was only a human. With cropped brown hair and a matching set of eyes, the guy was as All-American as it got, right down to his Abercrombie and Fitch T-shirt, jeans, and Nikes. He looked like a decent male, too, but Jett was going to ignore that for the time being.
“Yeah. I just came to see my sister,” Jett replied.
“You’re Mila’s brother?”
“Yeah.”
The guy rubbed the back of his skull, his bicep rolling beneath his skin as it moved. “Fuck, man, I’m glad you stopped by.”
And cue that needle-off-record sound again.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Robby stepped closer until only a few feet separated them. “Yeah, I love Mila, but you and her have some issues to work out.”
“I know,” he replied, unwilling to dip further into the details that were none of this guy’s biz.
“Has she told you a lot about me?”
Oh, gee, only that you were living together after dating for six months. Oh, wait! No, she didn’t. He had to hear it from his oldest sister’s mouth.
“Just that you treat her well and keep her safe.”
The guy nodded, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I do love her, and I want to keep her safe.”
“Do you own a gun?”
Jett’s question was met with stunned silence. “I don’t…” He shook his head.
“Do you know how to shoot?”
“Well, yeah. My old man is a cop. He made sure I learned.”
Reaching behind him, he pulled out the SIG Sauer he kept at the small of his back. “Take this.”
Robby just began shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“Look, the numbers have been filed off. It’s untraceable. Just take it.”
“Why would I—”
“You said you wanted to keep her safe?”
“I do.”
Jett gestured for the guy to take the weapon from him. “Then prove it, because I’m sure as shit not going to leave until I know you’re protecting her right.”
As if on autopilot, Robby came and took the gun, holding it like he knew what he was doing.
Thank fuck for that. “I want your word, my man. You will protect her with your life.”
“What the hell is going on? Is she in danger? Is someone coming after her?”
Jett shook his head. Any questions he answered truthfully were just going to blow this guy’s mind. “Just look after her, okay? I’m counting on you.”
And with that, he got back on his bike, slid on the helmet, and tore away from all that perfection that would never be his.
30
Neve had arrived back at the compound with Drake almost an hour before, and Sasha’s words were still bothering her as she sat alone in the rec room. She heard people coming and going from the house, but nobody seemed concerned she was hanging out in there.
As she puzzled over Sasha’s words, she tried to figure out why Drake had brushed her off so easily too. It was like he was hiding something from her.
“The sapling needs protection from the oak,’” she whispered to herself. “Trust in the unbreakable, even when you fear it will shatter.’”
She had no idea what the tree reference was about, nor did she understand the reference to the unbreakable. Letting out a sigh, she glanced down at her phone—no calls from her dad yet, but maybe the meeting was still going. She stood up, restless energy burning through her. She hated waiting, but she’d give him until five before she called him.
Five o’clock was more than two hours away. She couldn’t sit there for two hours—not without driving herself crazy. She could spend a couple of hours naked with Drake, but she wasn’t sure jumping into bed with that male would make things any less complicated.
There was something about him that spoke to her cat, but her more logical human brain was still working hard to beat back the instinct to submit to him. She never wanted to ‘belong’ to anyone, not like Katie wanted to…not like her mom wanted her to do. Independence was what she craved, and tying herself down to one male was a guaranteed way to not just destroy her dreams, but obliterate her autonomy.
She couldn’t deny the attraction anymore, though. If they hadn’t been interrupted by Grayson before, she had no doubt in her mind that she w
ould’ve let him take her again. There was something so right about being held in his arms. Even now, she could swear she felt him and how he was feeling. His emotions seemed to brush against her mind, the warmth of his protective streak like a heavy blanket in the winter. She didn’t know what it meant, or whether it was reciprocal, but the more time she spent with him, the stronger the sensations were becoming.
“There you are.”
She peered over her shoulder to find Drake leaning casually against the wall just inside the doors into the rec room. She took in the swell of his biceps, appreciating the way his shirtsleeves strained. Suddenly, the idea of spending a couple of hours naked with him didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
“What are you thinking about, Neve?” His voice was a low rasp that made her squirm.
Forcing her eyes away, she looked back at her phone. “I’m waiting for a phone call.”
His whole demeanor changed—honing into a hard edge. “A phone call? From who?” he demanded.
She tried not to let that statement bristle. Letting out an impatient breath, she kept her sharp tongue in check and said, “My father. He said he’d call after that big pride meeting in California.”
The air suddenly crackled with pulsing rage, and she rubbed her arms, peering up at Drake as his cat made his citrine yellow eyes glow like coals. When he spoke, she expected his voice to boom, but his words were careful, his tone smooth. It was almost like he shoved that anger back into a compartment in his head in an instant. “What meeting?”
Keeping her words low, and her eyes on his chin, she said, “The meeting the Yellow Eye Leo called. It took place this morning.”
His hands curled and uncurled. “I wasn’t informed of any meeting.” His anger washed against her in a tsunami-sized wave, and she fought not to flinch. “I thought your father was in New York.”
“There was a change of plans,” she said. She hadn’t had a lot of experience with rage like this. Her dad was always a level-headed leader, but she was coming to realize the Shadows were like a whole different breed of jaguar. Everything about them was amplified—their emotions, their rage…their passion.
