by Kian Rhodes
Pulling a handkerchief from my pocket, I polished the urn until it gleamed. I then turned to the coffin on the shelf beneath it and gently removed the dust from it as well before stroking my finger over the simple nameplate that proclaimed it the eternal resting place of Jafari, my first husband.
Stepping back to lean against the empty space on the opposite wall, space that likely would never be filled as I was the last of my line, I gazed at them, taking in the empty top shelf that would eventually be my own resting place and shook my head.
“Selfish,” I muttered out loud to myself. “You’ve already had two great loves, one that ended in tragedy. Why would you think you deserved another?”
The truth was that I knew I didn’t. And even if I hadn’t known that, I’d known from the beginning of my involvement with Paul that I could never be more than a stepping stone on his life’s path, someone to help boost him on as he traveled the road to his true destiny.
Maybe if I told myself that enough times it would finally sink in.
Turning away from the loved ones in front of me, I shook the dust from the handkerchief and returned to the front of the crypt and the decades of dust that were obscuring my family history. After all, with nowhere to go but home and a heart that I wasn’t sure could take being unable to hold my Omega, I had plenty of time to kill.
Chapter Forty-Two
Paul
I’ll be out until late. Sylas
I read through the cryptic text for at least the hundredth time since I’d received it that morning. The lunch I’d prepared for him before I’d gotten the text had been scooped into the trash. The simple supper of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy and corn had long since gotten cold and was currently congealing on the plate on the table as I stared out the living room window into the darkness.
I’d come to count on getting my alpha fix as Sylas teasingly called it almost constantly through his regular casual touches as well as the deeply satisfying and more intimate contact we had, and now that it had been nearly eighteen hours since I’d woken snuggled against him, not only was I starting to feel the unpleasant bone-deep itch associated with a pregnant Omega being separated from their Alpha, there was also a nerve-wracking combination of fear and worry about why he’d been gone so long.
When midnight came, I scraped the food from his plate and placed it in the dishwasher before climbing into bed to toss and turn.
When sleep finally came, it was fitful with a series of strange, unsettling dreams repeatedly waking me only to find that I was still alone in the bed. When the sun finally began to peek over the horizon, I gave up and dragged myself from the bed and into the kitchen to make coffee. When I looked out the kitchen window, I was startled to see Sylas slumped back in one of the patio chairs, his arms crossed over his chest.
Coffee forgotten, I ran for the door, nearly knocking myself out when I ended up running into it. Why in the hell was the door locked if Sylas was on the patio? Flipping the lock and trying again, I rushed out onto the patio, my stomach clenching when Sylas gave me a confused look.
“What’s wrong?”
I opened my mouth but no words came out, instead I began to sob.
“Hey, you’re okay.” Sylas reached out and for a minute I thought he was going to pull me onto his lap like he had so many times, but instead, he hesitated and patted my arm before pulling back. “Why are you up so early?”
“You didn’t come home!” I accused. “You left me!”
Sylas looked away with an exhausted sigh. “Of course, I came home, Paul. I’m right here, aren’t I?”
Okay, logically I knew he had a point but what the hell?
“Have you been out here all night?” I tried to force the accusation from my tone.
“Since about two,” he said quietly.
“Were you locked out? Why didn’t you knock?”
“I have my keys, Paul,” he said, skirting the question.
“You didn’t come to bed,” I mumbled. “I was worried.”
“I just wasn’t tired.”
Yeah, well, the dark purple bags under his bloodshot eyes said that was a lie.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” I had to force back a whimper when he didn’t respond. “I’m sorry.”
When he still didn’t speak, I walked back to the door. Blinded by the tears building in my eyes, I had to grope for the knob before I was finally able to open it and slip through to make my escape.
In the shower, I let the tears flow. The fear and anxiety of the night before was replaced by the unimaginable pain of my heart shattering. I stayed under the stream of steaming water until it began to cool and then forced myself to flick the water off and get dressed. Moving methodically, I collected my prenatal vitamins and the other supplements that the doctor had recommended and dropped them on the bed, followed by neat stacks of my clothes, and then the basic toiletries I needed. I left the spa bath stuff that Sylas had given me on my birthday behind on the shelf in the shower.
Within the hour, I had everything I’d arrived in Sylas’s life with packed into my car. With the exception of the car seat that he’d bought for my baby -I couldn’t even bear to think of him by Sylas’s silly nickname of Bun- I left everything else that Sylas had purchased behind and left a hastily scrawled check for one-hundred thousand dollars to cover the cost of the car and my room and board on the kitchen table, weighted down by an empty coffee mug.
Taking one last look around, I saw through the window that Sylas hadn’t moved, he was still sitting in the same spot and staring off into the distance. Ignoring the clenching in my gut, I pulled the two house keys off my key ring and carefully placed them on the check, along with the ring that Sylas had put on my finger so many weeks before and walked out the front door.
It wasn’t until I was backing out of the driveway that I realized that I had absolutely no idea where to go.
Chapter Forty-Three
Sylas
I knew I’d screwed up by not responding to Paul, but what the hell was I supposed to say? We both knew he wasn’t the problem. I mean, even if he had been able to look past the monster hiding inside me, how could anyone blame him for recoiling from me once he knew what my dishonesty had driven my wife to? There was no one to blame for the loss of those three lives but me and I sure as hell wasn’t deserving of kindness or forgiveness. Knowing that and making myself let go of the Omega that had quickly become the center of my world were two completely different things.
I heard him moving around in the house and sighed. No matter what the situation between us was, he was still carrying and because I was too much of a chicken to ask if I was still welcome in his bed to sleep, he hadn’t had any physical contact with an Alpha in twenty-four hours. Shoving myself to my feet, I walked through the back door and cringed when the scent of despair overwhelmed me. It was worse than I’d thought.
Of course, it wasn’t until I saw his wedding ring and house keys lying on a check from his investment account that I realized just how much worse.
A glance out the front window showed his SUV missing from the driveway and a quick tour through the house showed that Paul had only taken the bare minimum of his things, leaving behind everything he had acquired while staying with me, even Bun’s things, so maybe I was overreacting and he was coming back?
Then I saw it, the leather-bound baby book I’d started for him was still on his nightstand, but the ultrasound image was gone from the cover.
Paul wasn’t coming back and there was no chance that his deadbeat relatives had already been arrested. If he was going to be safe, I was going to have to find him.
Pulling my cellphone from my pocket, I started with Drey only to find that he hadn’t heard from Paul since the day before. He promised to let me know if that changed and disconnected, but before I could pull up my contact list for the next call, Chuck’s number was flashing on the screen.
“Is he there?” I snapped, already heading for my truck keys.
“Not yet,” Chuck
huffed back, his anger barely contained. “He just called to ask if he can rent a room until he has the baby. What the fuck, Sylas? Why am I suddenly running a Howard Johnsons?”
“Rent a room?” I parroted in disbelief. “He told Drey he wanted to buy a house.”
“Plans change,” Chuck sniped. “Apparently he has decided to leave the country but that has to wait until after the baby is born.”
Oh, fuck.
“But..why?” When Chuck didn’t respond, I groaned. “I mean, why does he want to leave the country?”
“I didn’t ask,” Chuck huffed. “I figured I’ll have plenty of time when he gets here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, you’re pissed at me but it’s not like I threw him out. I came in from the patio and found his keys on the table with a huge-ass check.” I knew from the sharp intake of breath that Chuck was going to argue, so I kept going. “Look, can we do this later? His asshole family hasn’t been arrested yet so he shouldn’t be wandering the streets without protection.”
As expected, that got Chuck’s attention. “Shit.”
“Yup,” I agreed. “Now, do you know what route he was taking to the compound?”
“Not really,” Chuck muttered. “He’s never driven here before, so I’d assume he’ll use the navigation program on his phone?”
“Okay, good,” I said thoughtfully. “I’ll set my phone and see if I can catch up to him. Chuck, if you hear from him again, would you see if you can get a location and talk him into sitting tight until I can catch up?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Great.” I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging on it as I tried to concentrate. “I better get going.”
“Be safe, man.”
“Yeah, I will. See you soon. And Chuck?” I waited for his responding grunt. “I’ll be sharing that room with him.”
Chuck snorted out a laugh. “I guess we’ll see about that when he gets here.”
Ignoring that, I disconnected the call and reached for my go bag, detouring through the laundry room to add the clothes that Chuck had brought to the motel. I locked the house up and was on my way down the road, following the map on the smart phone screen at nearly twice the posted speed limit. With a little luck, I’d catch up to Paul in plenty of time to be sure that no harm could come to him.
Chapter Forty-Four
Paul
I hadn’t even been driving for an hour when the stress of the situation began to overwhelm me. Chuck had been more than kind when I called to beg for a temporary place to stay. He’d explained that they couldn’t actually rent me a room like I’d asked because of the way their non-profit licensing was set up, but he said they could allow me to stay in a small guest cottage while I sorted things out. Still, the thought of not only being completely on my own for the first time ever, but also being responsible for the safety of an entirely new and completely helpless little person was enough to make my stomach roil. Deciding that it might help to get a cup of tea and something to eat, I pulled off the road when the flashing neon sign of a roadside diner came into view.
The place was empty, but it seemed that I had just missed a rush. A middle-aged waiter was clearing dirty dishes from a table near the door and a few more dirty tables waited their turn further into the large room.
“C’mon in and have a seat, hun,” he called out without raising his eyes from the table he was wiping. “Be right with you.”
“Great,” I called back, picking my way to a table against the back wall that gave me a good view of the parking lot through the oversized plate-glass window.
The waiter dumped the dishes unceremoniously into a big tub on the dining counter and walked over to me, the loud clatter apparently catching the attention of someone in the kitchen.
“If you broke that shit, I’m gonna take it out on your ass,” a deep voice growled loudly.
The waiter laughed and rolled his eyes. “Not sure exactly what kind of threat he thinks that is for an old queen like me.”
Caught off guard, I choked on a laugh.
“Never seen you around here before,” the waiter commented as he placed a laminated single page menu on the table in front of me. “My name’s Gene, hun. What can I get you to drink?”
“Um, do you have tea?”
“I do,” Gene said with a warm smile. “but you look a bit peaked. How does a nice cup of warm apple cider sound, instead?”
My stomach rumbled, catching me by surprise. “Really good, actually,” I admitted.
“Then I’ll bring some straight over while you take a gander at the menu.” Without waiting for an answer, Gene made his way to the archway that seemed to separate the kitchen from the dining area and almost immediately bickering between him and the growly-voiced man began to filter into the room, making me grin.
“Here you go,” Gene announced, all but flouncing across the black and white checkered floor to set a large mug topped with a pile of cinnamon-sprinkled whipped cream in front of me.
“Oh, wow.” I could feel my eyes widening like I was still a kid. “That looks amazing.”
“I know,” Gene said with a smug smile and a wink. “Now, what sounds good to eat?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted with a sigh. “I’m a little scatterbrained today and I can’t seem to think straight.”
“Pregnancy brain, huh?” Gene gave me a knowing look that made me laugh.
“Pretty much.” I couldn’t help it if I sounded a bit sheepish.
“Well, maybe I can help.” Gene settled into the seat across from me. “What’s your favorite food?”
Before I could answer, a familiar voice came from behind me. “Sausage lasagna, a green salad with Italian dressing, and garlic bread.”
I nearly upset my chair when I spun around to find Sylas lounging against the wall by the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
Gene raised a perfectly shaped brow at Sylas and turned back to me without greeting him. “I actually can work with that, if he’s right.”
I sighed and sunk down in my chair. “Honestly, that would be amazing.”
Gene nodded and glanced back at Sylas. “You want me to stay? Pinky can come out to take the order.”
Pinky? As far as I could tell it was just him and Growly Voice working. Did that make Growly Voice Pinky? I know it’s shallow, but that thought kind of blew my mind.
Realizing he was still waiting for an answer, I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. He wouldn’t hurt me.” Not physically, anyway.
Gene gave me a skeptical look but stood and turned to Sylas. “You eating?”
“I’ll have what he’s having, please,” Sylas said politely. “Except for the cup of candy. Just water, please.”
Gene huffed at the joke about the sweet cider but swept away to the kitchen where he could clearly be heard calling out our order. He returned a moment later with a tall glass of ice water and then promptly disappeared again, leaving us alone.
Sylas stayed where he was, silently watching me with sad eyes until I finally gave in with a sigh. “As long as you’re here, you might as well sit down.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Sylas
Catching the sapphire paint of Paul’s SUV shimmering in the parking lot of a roadside diner was a stroke of luck that I almost didn’t believe. Flying down the next off ramp and making a U-turn, I fully expected to pull up and have it fade into nothing like a mirage in the desert.
It didn’t.
When I slipped inside, neither Paul nor the waiter noticed me as I eased the door closed. I could see the tension in the way that Paul held his body, hear the strain in his voice as he spoke. Worst of all, when he realized I was there and turned to face me, I could see the pain and despair clouding his eyes and I knew I was the one responsible for it being there.
Accepting Paul’s lackluster invitation to join him at the dated Formica table, I crossed the room quickly before he had a chance to change his mind.
“Why are you here,
Sylas?”
I barely held back a wince at the less than welcoming words. “You,” I blurted out without thinking. “I mean, I need to keep you safe,” I corrected quickly. “The Senator and his jerkwad cohorts are still at large. You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“Oh.” Paul lowered his eyes to the table and reached for his cup, licking at the whipped cream that was starting to melt. “Thanks for telling me. I’m headed somewhere safe and he won’t know I left you, so that should be okay without me taking up any more of your time.”
“What are you talking about?” I shook my head in frustration. “When did I ever say helping you was an inconvenience?”
“You didn’t need to,” he murmured. “I think being so desperate to avoid me that you slept on a lawn chair outside kind of made it clear.” Paul stopped talking to smile at the waiter when he set down a bowl of crisp salad greens. “That looks great, thank you.”
“But that’s not what happened,” I disputed, my jaw dropping. “Why would you think that?”
“Can we not do this?” Paul groaned, shaking his head as he stabbed another bite of salad.
“You know, I don’t think we can,” I disagreed. “It may make me a jerk, but I think I’ve done enough for you that I’ve earned an explanation when you just walk out of my damn life!” I didn’t realize I was shouting until the waiter stormed out of the kitchen, a massive wooden rolling pin held aloft. He was followed by an immense bear of a man wearing a stained cook’s apron with fists like hams and an intense scowl on his face.
“I think you should go,” the waiter snapped at me, laying a gentle hand on Paul’s shoulder. “You okay, luv? Nobody should be yelling at a pregnant person.” That last bit was said with a glare at me.
Crap.
I rubbed my hand over my face. “I’m sorry, Paul. You absolutely don’t deserve to be yelled at.” I stood up and pulled my wallet out, leaving cash to cover the check. “I’ll wait for you outside and follow you to be sure you make it to your destination safely.”
I was leaning back in the driver’s seat with my eyes closed when someone rapped on the window. Opening my eyes, I found the bear in the dirty apron scowling at me. When I rolled down the window, he thrust a Styrofoam take-out box at me and stomped back toward the front door without a word. Shaking my head, I reached over to carefully place it on the rubber mat that protected the passenger side floorboard.
