17. Ash
ASH
“Hey.” I’m waiting out on the drive by the time Morgan gets here. Too nervous to stay inside. Well, nervous and maybe a little excited and also afraid. Now I’ve made the decision, my curiosity—and dread—is growing by the second.
I’m tired of the secrets between me and Morgan, but mostly I want to know what Callum was desperate to tell me last night.
I should’ve let him.
“Hey.” Morgan parks his bike next to my car and climbs off. He shoves his hands in his pockets, toes the ground before glancing up and meeting my eyes. Christ. He looks how I feel. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” I throw him my spare keys and we get in the car.
Silence.
Then Morgan shakes himself and starts the engine. “How’s your mum?” he asks as he backs out onto the road.
“You know, doing okay all things considered.”
We make small talk as he navigates out of town and towards the compound.
The closer we get, the more my excitement fades and nerves take over.
Morgan’s fingers open and close around the steering wheel and it only heightens my anxiety. Makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing. “Hey, Mor?”
He glances over, bottom lip between his teeth, then, “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to do this. We could turn around and you could take me back home.”
Unsurprisingly, he frowns. “I thought you wanted to know.”
“I do, but—”
The car slows as he pulls over on the side of the road and turns to face me. The silence is thick between us, but he seems to be searching for the right words, so I sit there and let him.
“I think . . .” He stops, looking torn.
“Mor?”
“I think it’s time, Ash.” He looks up and there’s fear in his eyes. “I want my best friend back. Like we used to be,” he adds when I’m about to protest. “And I don’t think we can do that until you know everything.”
He’s right. I know he is, but—“I’m scared.” Scared that whatever he’s hiding is bad enough that it might break us. I hadn’t been, up until this moment, but the way he’s acting . . .
“I’m scared too,” he says, voice quiet. “But I want to tell you. To show you.”
“Show me?” My heart rate picks up. Just what the hell is he into? “How illegal is this shit? I don’t want to get arrested, Mor.”
“It’s not . . . it’s not illegal.”
“You don’t sound too fucking sure about that.”
His smile is wry but fleeting. “I don’t know specifics—Lynx and I haven’t had that conversation yet—but you and I both know they don’t get their money solely from the garage.”
“True.”
“This isn’t that, though.”
Oh. “Am I going to be in danger once you tell me or show me?”
His expression softens, regret replacing some of the fear in his eyes. “You’re already in danger, Ash.”
I go cold. I guess he’s right. Nothing’s happened since Callum inspected my home, so I’d kind of forgotten about it, if I’m honest. But Morgan looks deadly serious. “Jesus, Mor. Now I’m really fucking scared.”
Reaching out, he grips my shoulder. “We can protect you better once you know.” He sits back and grips the steering wheel again. “It’ll be okay.” There’s an edge to his voice, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
Either way, he’s right.
It’s time.
The compound gates appear before I’m ready.
The guys on duty open them wide and wave Morgan through. My stomach drops as we drive towards the old hotel that’s now their home, and I see two people outside.
We get closer and they come into focus.
Callum and Lynx.
Waiting.
For me.
My heart gives a little lurch at the sight of Callum, but Lynx still scares the shit out of me. “Is that our welcoming committee?”
Morgan grunts. “Something like that.”
He parks the car off to the side, away from the row of bikes. I grasp for the door handle, needing to get this over with before I let nerves get the better of me, but Morgan grabs my arm. “Ash? I need you to remember that I love you like a brother, and I’d never hurt you.”
I stare at him, because what the fuck? “I love you too.” It’s automatic, and I mean it, but there’s still a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the look on Morgan’s face isn’t helping.
He gets out of the car before I can ask him anything else, and I have no choice but to get out too.
Callum’s sat on the top of the picnic bench with Lynx stood beside him.
I stop a couple of feet from the car. Fuck, I don’t know the etiquette here.
I’ve had Callum in my bed, I’ve been inside him for fuck’s sake, but I don’t know how to greet him here in front of others.
We’ve only ever been together at my home when we’re alone.
I’m hit with too many feelings all at once: embarrassment, shame, confusion, frustration, want. And anger. I fucking refuse to let them intimidate me. If Callum doesn’t want people to know we’re . . . something, then he should’ve stayed out of my bed.
Our eyes meet, and there’s a vulnerability there that does nothing to quell the uneasy feeling building inside me.
I’m drawn to him, can’t fight it even if I wanted to, but I only make it a few steps towards him when he jumps up off the bench and strides over to me.
“Hey.” He cradles my jaw, gaze boring into mine like he can read everything going on inside my head right now.
I want to kiss him.
I need his arms around me and his mouth on mine, just for a second to make it all stop.
Instead, he pulls me in close, my face tucked into the crook of his neck.
His arms go around my back, holding me tight, and it’s maybe better than a kiss.
He smells so good, already familiar, and it calms me in a way I really fucking need right now.
“Are you staying?” I ask, inhaling deeply because something about his scent is addictive. “While Morgan tells me this huge secret of yours?”
“No,” he murmurs, lips against my temple. “Morgan wants to do it on his own.”
I guess that makes sense. “But you’ll be here after?” I’ve a feeling I’m going to have questions. Lots of fucking questions.
When he pulls back and puts some space between us, there’s an unmistakable sadness in his eyes that I try hard not to read into. “If you want me to be.”
“I do.” I try for a smile. Fail.
Morgan clears his throat. “Shall we?” His gaze flicks to Callum, then Lynx. Some silent conversation happening that I’m not privy to.
Yet.
Will that all change when I finally know?
“Yeah,” I say, impatient for this to be fucking done. “Let’s go.”
He heads away from the house. From Lynx and Callum. I look back over my shoulder as I follow him to see Callum sat back down on the picnic table, elbows resting on his knees as he watches us go.
That sense of impending doom intensifies.
I almost trip over a tree root, so I quickly face forward.
Morgan doesn’t say anything as he leads me towards a clearing.
There’s a tree in it with a massive trunk, and it looks ancient and creepy.
Like something you’d find in a dark fairy tale.
Or maybe that’s me projecting. Who the fuck knows at this point.
There’s a weird feel to the place and I glance around, rubbing my arms. “What’s this used for?” Because I get the feeling it’s not a random spot.
“For church, when they need some space to . . . let off steam.”
“Oh.” I don’t ask what he means by church. I’ve done my research. “Does that happen often?”
He laughs, but it’s strained. “Yeah.”
I amble over and lean against the enormous trunk. I want to cross my arms, but it’s awkward with the brace. “What is it you need to tell me, Mor?”
He swallows thickly, hands fisting his hair as nerves get the better of him.
“Just spit it out.” My heart thuds, every beat loud in my ears.
This is it.
“I didn’t just join the Wild Wolves MC, Ash. I joined their pack.”
“What?” I stare at him, blink a couple of times, trying to make the words make sense. “What do you mean, pack?”
“They’re shifters.” He pauses, bites his lip, eyes never leaving mine. “And so am I.”
“What?” It seems to be the only word I can say, because what the actual fuck? Anger surges, quicker than I can get a handle on. “Is this some sort of joke?” I run my free hand through my hair, tugging the strands.
“No, Ash, I—”
“They’re not real.”
“You’ve heard the rumours. We both have. Things that can’t be explained, that people talk about in whispers in the pub sometimes.”
“They’re just rumours, though.” I throw my hands in the air, wincing at the tug on my brace.
“Come on, Mor. I’ve been worried sick that you’re involved with some sort of crime syndicate or drugs gang, and this is your explanation?
That you’re a shifter?” I spit the word at him, gesturing up and down his body.
His very human body. “I’ve known you for years.
Years. I think I’d fucking know if you were a supernatural being.
” I’m breathing heavily, heart rate climbing as the anger turns into hurt and disappointment at the lies he’s telling to my fucking face.
“Do you want me to show you?” His voice is soft, patient, nothing like mine.
“Show me what?”
“Don’t run, okay? I’ll explain everything . . . after. Just don’t run.”
I frown but nod. Anything to get to the fucking truth.
“Promise,” he urges.
“I promise.”
“Okay.” He blows out a breath and shakes out his arms. “Right. We’re doing this.” It’s like he’s giving himself a pep talk. Then he starts to take off his clothes.
“Err . . . Morgan?”
He glances up as he kicks his boots off. “I don’t want to shred them when I shift.”
Fuck.
He’s serious.
Unease creeps back in. Anger chased it off for a moment, but now it’s back with a vengeance, sitting in my belly like a lead weight. Either my best friend is having a psychotic episode or he’s about to—
Fuck. I can’t even say it in my head.
I look away as he shoves his jeans and underwear off. Not that I haven’t seen him naked a hundred times before, but not stood in front of me in the middle of a forest.
“You need to watch me, Ash.”