Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
brEE
She’s going stir crazy.
She promised Darlene that she wouldn’t go wander off on her own in the town—the murders have put her friend on edge.
Darlene’s back at the café, so she’s stuck in her cabin unless she wants to spend her day drinking lattes and munching on paninis.
And as tempting as that sounds, there’s more she wanted to do while she’s here.
Now that her interview with Doctor Porter has been moved to next week, she wants to explore what she didn’t have time to before.
She also needs a distraction from Cole.
She can only stay in bed so long, in the nest that she made while she was thinking of him.
Yes, she made Darlene a promise—but she wouldn’t consider this wandering .
She’s just getting some fresh air.
Wrapping herself up in her cream sweater, she’s unlocking her car when she hears a voice that makes her freeze.
“That’s not your husband. You’re a liar.”
She turns to see Eugene, with his bloodshot eyes and swollen red nose. He staggers up the driveway, struggling for breath as he approaches Bree.
Shit.
“Good afternoon, Eugene,” she says politely.
“That’s…not…your…husband,” the older man huffs. He stands behind Bree’s car and crosses his arms, blocking the way out of the driveway. “I checked. He hasn’t been here once since the other night. And he threatened me.”
He puffs out his chest, glaring daggers at Bree, as her mouth falls open in shock.
“What do you mean, you checked ?”
“He wasn’t here last night, was he? Listen, girl. No one threatens me. This is my town , and I don’t need tourists coming in here and ruining it.”
Bree’s hand shakes as she clutches her car keys. “Okay, Eugene,” she says as kindly as possible. “I’m leaving now, though.”
This man possibly killed his wife. As much as Bree wants to snap at him, fear keeps her in place, doing her best to placate him.
Cole wouldn’t let Eugene talk to her like that. Cole would know what to say.
But wishing for him now is stupid. She sent him away.
So, she’s stuck with awful Eugene and a painful sense of loneliness.
“What kind of Omega comes here by herself, anyway?” Eugene continues. “You’re stinking up the place. I don’t want to have to smell your cunt from a mile away. My wife was an Omega. Can’t stand how any of you act or smell. ”
She drops the keys, and they clatter to the driveway.
Ignorant, vile man.
“Leave me alone,” she growls, all sense of propriety gone. “Bother me again, and I’ll call the sheriff.”
The drunk man grunts and bares his yellowing teeth, swaying in place as he stares Bree down.
She stares right back, keeping the bravado on her face until he stumbles back down the driveway.
Once she’s sure he’s gone, she shoots a text to Darlene, and heads to the café.
Eugene’s words are the ramblings of a drunk man, and they shouldn’t bother her.
But it’s a reminder that she’s alone.
She’s going to go through another Heat by herself, and she pushed away the only person she had an attraction to.
She’s defective and broken—she can’t even handle being kissed without having a breakdown.
Tears fill her eyes, and she blinks them away as she reaches the light to turn to the café.
But it’s obvious she’s been crying, and she doesn’t want to have to see the look of pity on Darlene’s face.
So, she turns the opposite way of the café and heads to a place she spotted the day she arrived in Green Woods.
She’s always liked cemeteries.
She stopped mentioning it after she turned eighteen; her mother screamed at her so much when she said it offhandedly that she’s kept the thought to herself since then.
Carol has never been a fan of them, especially after her husband was placed in one.
But Green Woods Cemetery makes Bree feel at peace.
Small gray headstones line the neatly trimmed green lawn, protected by an intricate wrought-iron fence. Each grave appears well kept and visited enough that the memories of the dead aren’t forgotten.
She’s the only visitor at the moment, and she breathes in the crisp, fresh air and pays her respects to the buried.
There’s a bench donated in the name of a couple that has passed away, and she takes a seat there, her loneliness eating at her.
She allows herself a quick cry, letting out a soft sob, desperate to release the stress she carries.
She lets the breeze play with her hair as she stares off into the distance, becoming as quiet as the people buried beneath.
It startles her that she senses Cole before she even scents him.
Goosebumps prick at her skin as he takes a seat next to her, his scent soothing her. The wind carries his essence, swirling it around her until her head is dizzy with nothing but Alpha.
Relief washes over her in waves.
He came back .
It doesn’t matter how he found her—Cole’s returned and is sitting with her. Dressed in fitted dark jeans and a black sweatshirt, he looks casual but still polished.
He doesn’t speak, just drapes his arm over the top of the bench, subtly caging her in.
She sighs in relief as they sit in silence.
She can feel him watching her as she stares into nothingness, enjoying the stillness of the graveyard.
The other day, his attention would have bothered her.
But today, she welcomes it.
“I owe you an apology,” she says as clouds roll in and cast a shadow over them
“You never need to apologize to me,” he says, his voice low .
A lump forms in her throat. “I figured you’d never want to see me again,” she admits, “after how I acted the other night.”
He hums. “Silly girl,” he murmurs, his voice silky. “I’m never far from you.”
She shivers.
“And as for the other night,” he continues, slightly amused. “I frightened you. I could sense it, and I just kept pushing you. I’m surprised you didn’t run screaming from me.”
She swears she can smell a hint of something metallic emanating from him, clashing with his citrusy, delicious scent, but she blames it on the wind.
She chances a glance at him, smiling as she notices the slightly disheveled hair and twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
“That’s not why I ran,” she says softly. “I panicked for a different reason.”
“Do you want to tell me?”
She swallows. “Not really, no.”
“Alright.”
He just accepts her answer without argument, and she’s grateful for it. He doesn’t push her like he did the other night. He just lets her exist without judgement as he watches her.
His attention, albeit intense and at times overbearing, is starting to grow on her.
“I’m not leaving until next week,” she continues, unable to look at him as she says it. She kicks her booted feet anxiously, digging at the grass underneath her. “My interview was moved, and I extended my stay at the cabin.”
“Lucky me.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “If you say so.”
“I do say so. You know, I’m sure the Elmwood Press could use an overzealous, rule breaking journalist. ”
She quirks her lip. “Sure. Are you going to buy the cabin, too? Or am I going to live in my car while I do that?”
“The deed to the cabin is already in your name, but if you want to go somewhere else, I’m sure we could do that.”
She snorts. Maybe they shouldn’t be telling so many jokes at a cemetery. She’s never smiled this much in front of gravestones.
“I am sorry, though. About the other night,” she adds.
Cole shakes his head. “Like I said, I pushed you. I wanted you to see what was between us before you were ready.”
Alarms blare in her head, louder than the ones in the prison. She stiffens slightly and frowns, wondering if her original intuition about him was right.
Her inner Omega preens, remembering what Darlene said about soulmates.
But rational, realistic Bree knows better.
“You have to stop saying things like that,” she murmurs.
“Why?” He tilts his head curiously, as if he doesn’t realize the impact of his words.
“Because it’s not fair. It’s not right. You can’t mess with someone’s emotions that way.” She turns on the bench to face him fully, her thighs almost touching his. “Cole, saying those things and not meaning them, or exaggerating them…”
For the first time, he looks bewildered. “You think I’m exaggerating ? That I don’t mean what I’m saying?” His scent deepens, the citrus turning peppery and spicy, as he shakes his head in disbelief. “You really have no idea, do you?”
Her mouth turns dry. “I?—”
But he grabs her wrist gently and pulls her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “You really don’t,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening. “I wonder what I need to do to prove it to you.”
Her sleeve falls, and she snatches her hand away and yanks the fabric up to her knuckles, covering her skin .
Cole notices. Of course, he notices as she clenches her hand into a fist and keeps it in her lap.
Her face flames and nausea churns in her gut.
Did he see?
“Breana.”
She bites her lip, shame coursing through her as she waits for his reaction.
She can’t look at him. Instead, she focuses her gaze on the headstones in the distance, wondering how close she was to joining them at one time.
“Bree.”
She shakes her head and curls in on herself, wrapping her arms around her waist.
Both hands clench into fists as she struggles to hide what shames her every day.
“They’re so ugly,” she chokes out. “I don’t want you to see them. You’ll run.”
She realizes how dramatic she sounds, but it’s the narrative that’s been in her head since the doctors removed the stitches years ago.
People in her life have made it clear how revolting they are on numerous occasions.
She hears Cole chuckle humorlessly beside her. “I promise, the only one that will run from us is you. Nothing you show me would send me away.”
“You sound ridiculous,” she says weakly. “What if I’m a murderer?”
“I highly, highly doubt that.”
“You don’t know that. I could be responsible for what happened in Elmwood.”
Cole barks out a laugh, tilting his head back in dark delight. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
That term of endearment makes her heart flutter, and it gives her the bravery to turn to face him. His smile fades and his gaze falls to her, the piercing blue of his eyes so breathtaking it makes her freeze in place.
“You’ve ruined me, you know,” he tells her gently, the corner of his full lip quirking up. He reaches to caress her cheek with the back of his knuckles, his other hand still slung over the bench. “You’re in the forefront of my mind now. Everything else is a dull buzzing in the back of my head. Working, eating, sleeping…nothing is as important as you now, I’m afraid.”
Run , a part of her whispers. This isn’t normal .
But she’s so tired of being alone.
Tired of coming home to an empty apartment, desperate to write about other people in hopes of forgetting her own life.
Tired of going to bed by herself and creating fluffy nests that no one else can appreciate.
His touch sends tingles down her spine, and she closes her eyes at the contact.
“You can tell me,” Cole breathes. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
Her mind is cloudy when she opens her eyes, and whether it’s from him using his Alpha Influence or her finally letting her guard down, she doesn’t care.
All she knows is that it’s just Cole and her, alone in a graveyard, with nothing but ghosts to witness them.
She extends her right hand out, and he takes it with his own, the cream sleeve falling back, exposing a sliver of mottled skin.
“If I show you…” she trembles, her hand shaking in his as he grasps it tightly, anchoring her to him. “I…”
The sleeve falls a little more, and her wrist is on full display now .
She watches realization dawn on his face as he slowly pushes up her sleeve.
She stops breathing as his jaw clenches.