Cassius (The Wildflower Series Book 3)

by Rachelle Mills

  Inhaling. Inhaling. Inhaling.

  I’ve missed this smell. I’ve forgotten what she smells like.

  Eyes open to eyes.

  Kennedy is here with me…

  I place her on the bed, face to face. She watches as I take off the suit jacket and climb on top of her on the bed.

  She smiles.

  I crawl over her body and press my hips to hers.

  Face to face.

  Her fingers start to undo the buttons of my shirt, and I grind into her, feeling Kennedy between my legs. Inhaling, she feels so good. I don’t close my eyes. I can’t look away from her.

  The zipper of my pants pulls down; she inhales as she tugs them down my thighs.

  She spreads her legs wider as I settle between them, rubbing against the thinness of her wet underwear.

  I inhale as I make my way down her neck to her breasts. Her bra gets taken off, and I get to run my tongue across her nipples. She arches her back and rubs herself against my cock.

  Inhaling…

  Moving my way down her stomach, to her underwear line, pulling them off. Spreading her legs and letting my tongue work her center. Her hips move up off the bed, and nails are now in my head, anchoring me to her.

  Inhaling…

  She pulses around my finger, and now I am heavy with a need to be inside her.

  Raising up, she spreads her legs wide, and I enter her with a grunt.

  Eyes never leaving eyes.

  She holds me, wraps herself around me.

  I kiss her; she kisses me back, all lips no teeth. No blood.

  Pushing in, dragging my cock out, a whimper comes out from my throat as I push back in one last time to explode inside her.

  Eyes locking on eyes.

  “I love you.” I say it like goodbye.

  Closing my eyes on her, holding the scent one last time to my nose. She holds me against her. The tears don’t stop.

  Sobs begin to turn to silence. The tears stop, and finally I can pull my head off her chest.

  “I have one request before I leave.” It’s Hazel I’m looking at. Kennedy’s eyes are blurring away.

  “What is it?”

  “I want you to shave my head.”

  Hazel smiles with smeared red lips. “Of course I will, Cassius.”

  Letter 13

  Cash,

  I’m tired today and you looked tired too—we both are tired. You came in, standing close to the door before you step inside the room. You hesitate. It’s like you feel out the mood and either enter or walk away depending on me.

  Don’t hesitate, Cash. Don’t hesitate in your life because of me. You can’t.

  I’ve decided I’m not going to fall in love with you. I’m not, because I don’t want you to fall in love with me. We’re messy enough. We don’t need to add love between us. You deserve to be loved, and you deserve to fall in love. Just not with me. I won’t give you that memory to hold onto. It’s easier for both of us if we keep the love away.

  My love has been given to Clayton, and I don’t know how to love you in a way you should be. So I’m going to let someone else love you the way it could have been between us. You’ll give them love, and they will give you love back. Something special, something just for you and her to share. You’re going to need to leave me out of your love. You can’t bring me into the relationship because it won’t work. So I’m not going to love you. I’m not going to say I love you. I’m not going to let you kiss me. No matter how much I want you to now, I’m not going to give in to what it would feel like to have something gentle against me. I’m too far gone to be saved, and I’m too selfish to give my love of Clayton up for you. I’m no saint and you’re no villain. Please try to remember that.

  We share a bond, but we don’t have love.

  Don’t be afraid to love. It’s beautiful and wonderful. Don’t let someone fix you up. Fix yourself up first, then you’re ready to be loved again. Don’t break someone’s heart because you weren’t ready to be loved, that’s just cruel, and I know you’re not cruel.

  Kennedy

  Chapter 14

  Regret in Open Letters

  The buzz of the hair clipper echoes around the marble walls of the bathroom.

  “Are you ready?” Hazel asks. I nod my head, and she starts on the right side of my head. The strip of hair comes off easily, much easier than I thought it would.

  “Are you going to take your beard off?” Another strip of hair comes off, falling around the legs of the chair.

  “I was thinking about it.”

  “You should. Fresh face, a new you.” She doesn’t look at me when she talks. She’s focused on taking off the hair, and I think she’s enjoying it.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “I cut Tate’s hair at home when he lets me but never buzzed his entire head.”

  “Is that your boyfriend?” She stops, clipper held in her hand.

  “No, Tate’s not my boyfriend, but he’s more than a friend. It’s hard to explain.” She starts on another strip, curling the clipper around the back of my ear.

  “Does he know what you do?”

  “He knows.”

  “Does he care?”

  “Nope, not really.” She takes a sip from the edge of the whiskey glass without making a face at how strong it is to drink it neat. She went through the second bottle of wine while I was showering and asked if I’d like a glass. She poured me one, no ice, straight whiskey. The way it’s meant to be sipped, she said.

  “I’m not sure I’m going to give to your charity anymore. I don’t like how you use the donations.” Hazel now judges me.

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I didn’t spend that money. Donations are barely enough to cover the costs to keep the program running. I sell coloring books online and do all graphics and media promotion for the farm.”

  Hazel kind of laughs out loud. “You sell coloring books?”

  “I do. Are you judging what I do for a living?” She stops for a moment and gives me a big smile without any lipstick left on her lips. She points the clippers in the mirror at me with an angle to her head.

  “I would never judge a wolf’s way of life. If you want to draw coloring books for kids, by all means, do it, but be the best fucking coloring bookmaker you can be.” She takes another sip of whiskey. I haven’t touched mine. I’m not really a whiskey drinker.

  “It’s cut-throat out there.”

  “How do you do?” Hazel finishes what’s in her glass.

  “I do all right. It’s enough.”

  “Are you in stores?”

  “No, just online.”

  “I know someone who owns this big chain of grocery stores. I could get your product in there for five percent of your sales.” Now her smile is shrewd business, a hint of teeth showing.

  “You get me into those stores and you’re going to take five percent of the profits?”

  “Sounds fair.” She continues to cut my hair.

  “If you can get me into those stores, I’ll give you your five percent.”

  “Deal.” The sound comes out crisp.

  She doesn’t stand too close to me while cutting my hair. My space and her space don’t mix. Her robe is secured tight, and I have on my old clothes again.

  Our business is over.

  Hazel works on the left side now. “You live on a farm?”

  “No, well, actually our territory holds a farm on it. It’s getting bigger and bigger since Rya came. It started with the bees when she planted this field of wildflowers.”

  “A field of wildflowers?”

  “We didn’t question it. She said she needed it, so we planted it. Then the next year, the bees came. They swarmed, so we bought the containers and collected honey. Rya started to give it away as presents to visiting packs or when she went for a visit. Some wolves asked if they could buy more from her, and the next thing that happens is the pack is in the honey business.” Hazel stops cutting my hair to listen. She takes my untouched glass a
nd starts to drink from it like it’s water.

  “After the second year, Rya planted a lot of fruit trees. She wants the pups to be able to climb and pick fruit right from the trees. She started visiting different packs, and some had an animal that they couldn’t care for anymore, so we have a pig, Mrs. Oink, and a goat called Mr. Bill.”

  “Nice names.”

  “The kids.” As if that says everything.

  “Rya is the one with the Moon’s eyes, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She starts with the top of my head now. Everything is coming off.

  “Hazel, thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. You paid me. We had a transaction, nothing more than that. You needed some help with whatever is inside your head, and I was able to do community service and make some money on the side.” She takes another sip, longer this time.

  “You’re going to be all right, Cash.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I know wolves, and I think you’re going to be just fine.”

  “I feel all right. Not like before her, but I feel all right for the first time in a long time.” The hair on my head is now buzzed low; she used a number three setting on me.

  “Tommie’s a liar. You are worth every penny.”

  “Tommie does that to show me he cares. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t say anything to anyone.” Hazel takes a straight razor out of a package.

  “I’m not sure. To me, he doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

  Hazel waves her hand in the air. “It’s an act.”

  “I’m not sure. He seems real.”

  “It’s only because I touch his stuff on purpose. I like to get under his skin. It’s easy to do, and it’s fun to sit back and listen to his threats.” She laughs, and it sounds lonely echoing off the walls of the bathroom.

  “He threatens you?” My shoulders straighten up.

  “He told me he’s going to spank me. That’s his threat. He’s harmless, all teeth no real bite, plus I deserve it a little. I was shit to him when he was younger. He was really small growing up, and he kissed me once, and I laughed at him. I think that had a lasting impression on him, plus now, I take his weed. Tommie and his weed are like some sort of sacred thing.” Her eyes are leveled and clear for how much alcohol she’s consumed.

  “Tommie has some issues. His mate rejected him and is raising the pups of the Alpha as her own and won’t leave them to go with Tommie. He’s had a rough time with that, plus he’s back from school and he really doesn’t fit in with the pack. He was picked on a lot when he was younger, really bad, actually. I should have done something, but I didn’t.”

  “Tommie seems like he can take care of himself now.”

  “He can now, but before…nope. He didn’t grow until college, then he came back looking like some model that could kick almost anyone’s ass. He has the best weed. Do you smoke?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad. It helps with the edges.”

  “How long has it been for you?”

  “For me?” She stiffens.

  “Without your mate.”

  “Wolf, I don’t talk about that.” She bristles up, and all her lines become hard and straightened out. It’s as if a big Do Not Disturb sign hangs from her neck.

  There is a pause between us. It lets me know we are strangers.

  She watches me shave my face. I really look at myself in the mirror. It’s been so long since I’ve seen me that it takes a few hard minutes to realize this is my face and it’s okay to see myself again.

  When I’m done, she inspects the finished product. “You’re not that bad, Cash. Cleaned up, you aren’t that bad at all.” She gives me a toothy smile, her eyes lingering everywhere before looking away.

  “Thanks.”

  “I have a ten o’clock tonight, so I need to get ready.” She turns on the tap and washes her hands, looks at her teeth.

  “Do you like what you do?”

  “It’s a job that pays the bills. I’ve met some nice men, some not so nice. They get something, I get something. The end, but sometimes I meet wolves like you who need a wolf like me to make it all right to move on. There’s less guilt if you pay for it the first time than actually doing it because you want to fuck someone. Guilt is like a noose. It hangs you after a while.”

  “I wanted to say goodbye to her.”

  “Saying goodbye and wanting to fuck someone else is the same thing, isn’t it? Do you have someone else you want to fuck, Cash? This is your guilt-free goodbye. You pay me money, and you go back to your pack a new wolf without guilt. I’ve taken off the noose around your neck. You won’t choke on yourself anymore. You’ve gotten your goodbye, your head’s shaved, and right now, I enjoy what I do.”

  “You’re a good wolf, Hazel.”

  She holds a finger up. “Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to maintain.” She says her words through that lonely smile that doesn’t spread as wide as it could.

  We both look at my face in the mirror, silent, inspecting the reflection that’s staring back.

  “You look good, Cash.”

  “I feel better.” Running my hand over my head, over my clean face, the kids are going to freak out. I can’t stop the small laugh that comes out as a breath.

  Picking up my bag, standing at the door, we don’t hug goodbye after I pay her for her service. She takes the money, and I close the door behind me.

  Letter 14

  Cash,

  We sat on the swing yesterday, gliding back and forth. I think we both wanted to talk, but neither of us could. I have all these words to say to you, but when you’re around me, everything seems stuck.

  You started talking about the weather, how it’s a nice day today. I agreed. Then you moved to food, and I said I wasn’t hungry. You told me I looked pretty, and I called you a liar. You said you were trying, and I said stop.

  You walked away, and I started to cry because there was nothing more that I wanted to do than sit there with you on the swing and talk about the weather, about food, about how you thought I was pretty.

  I wanted to ask you how you thought I was pretty when all I am is ugly to you? How could you look at me and think, she’s pretty? It’s easier for us if I stay ugly, Cash. It’s easier for everyone if I stay this wolf that no one likes that way. In the end, no one will care that I’m gone, even you.

  We sacrifice for love, don’t we? My sacrifice is staying ugly when all I want to do now is tell you that the weather is good, the food is wonderful, and your face is beautiful. I want to touch your face, I want to feel your lips, I wanted to hold hands with you on that swing. I wanted to ask what attracted you to me. I can tell you I love your back, Cash. You have a nice back, and your arms are strong. Every time you move, I can see your triceps flex; it’s a turn-on for me. Arms.

  I notice you wear a lot of layers, a lot. Two shirts, a belt, underwear, jeans, even a few rings. You won’t get undressed in front of me. You’re very private now. Even in front of your family, you have all these layers that you wrap yourself in.

  I’ve made you uncomfortable in your own skin. I’m not even sure you realize it. I do; I realize everything. I’m sorry for that. There is nothing I’d like more than to touch you and tell you how I have this need now to touch your body. I want your hands on me, over me, and when we are in bed together back to back, it takes all my willpower not to turn around and try to hold you.

  I was afraid I could never love someone the way I loved Clayton, but Cash, I could have loved you more. If things were different, I could have loved you more.

  Kennedy

  Chapter 15

  Letters in the Right Hand

  Green eyes meet mine when the door opens.

  “You know it’s daytime, right?” Clayton states an obvious fact.

  “I know.”

  “Well, come in. I made some soup.” He holds the door open wider for me to go in. He hasn’t changed the inside of this house since Rya lived here. Everything i
s exactly the same. There is a single bowl on the table, a spoon placed next to it.

  “I see you cut your hair.” Clayton doesn’t face me. He’s getting another bowl from the cupboard and a spoon out of the drawer. He ladles the soup from a pot that’s still simmering on the stove.

  “I did.” I sit down across from him. He places the bowl in front of me.

  The package in my hand is placed on the table; this is the last time I touch those letters.

  Clayton spoons some soup in his mouth, watching me. I do the same. “This is good soup.”

  “Everything’s from my garden.”

  “Rya makes a good soup.” Once the words are out, Clayton hesitates to swallow what’s on his spoon. It’s held for a moment longer before he swallows it down, and he starts to stir the broth in the bowl.

  “Why are you here, Cash?” Clayton puts his spoon down. Elbows on the table, hands folding like a prayer.

  “Do you have anything of Kennedy’s left?”

  “I told you before, everything of hers was burned. I don’t have anything left.”

  The broth is warm with chunks of soft vegetables in it. I take a few more bites.

  “Do you remember Kennedy?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I remember her. How can I forget her?” His voice is crisp.

  “She was afraid you wouldn’t remember her.” Clayton looks out the window before rubbing at his eyes. It doesn’t stop the tears that start to leak out.

  “This isn’t easy, Cash.” Clayton’s not looking at me. He’s concentrating on the soup bowl.

  “She loved you, she didn’t love me, and that’s not your fault. The minute I came here was the minute you let her go. I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything.”

  Clayton’s fingers feel the top of his shaved head, but he doesn’t look at me. His shoulders curl around the table. He’s still crying, silently.

  “We were young. No one could tell us anything. We were the ones that were going to make it. Beat the mate bond.” He rubs his hands together before weaving his fingers tight. He breathes out slowly, picking his head up.