Chapter 7
“Hey! Wake up!” Brandt yelled as he knocked on the door.
Barron reached over and grabbed the alarm clock. Yep, he used an old fashioned alarm clock to get him up, because the phone alarm wasn’t persistent or irritating enough to push him to fully awake status. He peered bleary-eyed at the red numbers and groaned as he set it down on his bedside table, threw his covers off his body and swung his feet to the floor.
Almost immediately Brandt started knocking again.
With a soft snarl Barron got to his feet and started toward the door. Just as he left the bedroom, he cast a glance toward the sleeping form of his mate, still slumbering away in their bed. He pulled the door to, but didn’t close it all way and went to stop whoever was pounding on his door before they woke up Emmalyn. He snatched the curtains on the window next to the door aside and glared at Brandt.
“It’s raining! Open the door!” Brandt said irritatedly.
“Go away.”
“No, open the door,” Brandt insisted and went back to knocking on the door while maintaining eye contact with Barron.
Barron unlocked the door and walked away, his focus the coffee pot in the kitchen and a full cup of steaming coffee as soon as he could manage to get a pot made.
Brandt let himself in and followed Barron to the kitchen. “Why are you still asleep? You know how late it is?”
Barron took only a split second to glare at Brandt, then turned back to the task of making coffee.
“It’s almost ten o’clock.”
“So?”
“So, you missed breakfast.”
Barron gestured to the coffee pot which was just starting to percolate. “Obviously, I didn’t.”
“Seriously, though. I was just checking. I was starting to get worried. You never sleep in this late, even on your day off.”
“It’s Saturday. No work today.”
“Still, you don’t sleep this late.”
“Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
“You watching over Emmalyn all night?”
“Something like that.”
“She know we know she’s in trouble?”
“No, and we don’t technically know that. I’m thinking we overreacted. ”
“Maybe. Maybe not. And besides, her mother believes it. If you were up all night watching her house, you believe she’s being stalked as much as I do.”
Barron nodded as he waited for his coffee. “I wasn’t up all night watching her house.”
“Then what were you up all night doing?”
“Why are you here before I even have my first cup of coffee asking me personal questions?”
Brandt shrugged. “Why not?”
Barron looked him up and down, then figured out what was going on. “Tempest visiting her family again?”
“Yes. I really love that she can go whenever she wants. But I get lonely.”
“So, you’re here irritating me.”
Brandt grinned. “Should make you feel special.”
Barron looked blearily at Brandt. “You want coffee?”
“Sure. So, you gonna tell me why you were up all night?”
“Emmalyn. Why else?” Barron said.
“Maybe you should just grab her and mark her and force her to come home with you so you can keep an eye on her until we know she’s safe, then she can do whatever she wants.”
Barron chuckled, his voice still gruff from sleep and fatigue. “I kind of did.”
“What?! She’s here?!”
“Yep,” he said nodding. “She’s still sleeping. Didn’t mark her with a bite, but all the rest… done. She’ll be staying here while we work this out.”
“How do you feel?” Brandt asked.
Barron shrugged as he poured his coffee and sipped the hot black liquid as he poured Brandt's. “Doesn’t much matter how I feel. It was going to happen. May as well be now so we can get it over with.”
“Did she fight you?”
“Naw, it was a mutual thing. I promised her that if at the end of this whatever it is she wasn’t happy, I’d let her go. It won’t take long for her to play that card no matter what I do, so we may as well enjoy ourselves while this runs its course. The rest will fall into place when it’s supposed to the way it’s supposed to. Doesn’t really matter what either of us wants, it will be whatever it’s going to be, which is her running — as usual.”
“You knew that before you claimed her?”
“How you think I got her to agree to come home with me. Only way I could make it happen was to believe whole-heartedly that it was only temporary and to accept that.”
The sound of movement caught their attention and both males turned to look around the living room.
Barron’s brows bunched up and he walked across the living room to the small hallway that led to his bedroom, his ears piqued for any sense of her moving around, but there was none. He went so far as to stand outside his bedroom door and listened, when he heard nothing, he shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
“She up?” Brandt asked.
“I thought so, but no, no sound at all. She’s still sleeping. We were up late,” he said with a satisfied smirk.
“So, hold on, the only reason you claimed her was because you knew it was only temporary?”
“No. Dude, keep up. The only way I could get her to agree to come back here with me was to make myself believe that it was temporary so when I told her if at the end of it she wasn’t happy, she could go and I wouldn’t make her stay, she’d have scented a lie if I didn’t make myself believe it at least a little. It was a struggle to make it feel like the truth, though. I knew the moment I said it, it was a lie. No fucking way I’m letting her go. Ever.”
“This is a good thing, Barron. Y’all are going to make this work. I’m happy for the two of you.”
“Me, too. It feels right. That anxiousness that’s been riding me is done. I feel, settled. Right with the world, you know?”
“I do. I feel it, too, because of Tempest. So I know exactly what you mean.”
“I knew that there was a bond that mates felt, something that drew them together, but I had no idea this wholeness was part of it. And now I’m excited for her to wake up and watch her realize she feels it, too. I hope she does, anyway.”
“I’m sure she does. She’s your mate.”
Barron nodded and grinned. “She is. Emmalyn’s mine, and I’m so fucking glad she is.”
“So, you don’t think she knew you saying you’d let her go was a lie?”
Barron glanced at Brandt from where he was digging in the cabinet for a skillet to cook breakfast for Emmalyn. “Doesn’t matter. I lied to get her to agree to come home with me, to give us a try. I gave her a safe way out, but I’ll be damned if I let it actually come to fruition.”
“You do know she’s going to figure it out.”
“I’ll fight that fight when it happens. Hopefully, it won’t be more than a hiccup, because this is it. Permanent. I love her, and I’m going to give her every reason to love me.”
Brandt nodded emphatically. “Whatever you got to say to get them to accept you long enough to realize they love you.”
Barron chuckled again and started assembling the ingredients for breakfast. “I didn’t want her to get spooked. Thinking she had a way out that I wasn’t going to fight, gave her a sense of control. And you know she’s all about the control. And I’m hoping she already kinda loves me.”
“I think she does.”
Barron flashed a quick smile. “You gonna stay and eat with us?”
“I already had one breakfast, but I could eat again. Should I stay?” Brandt asked.
“Sure, why not? You can leave right after and we’ll get back to learning how to be together.”
“I’m shocked you’ve come as far as you already have. The two of you are the most stubborn people I’ve ever known.”
“She is.”
“And so are you.”
Barron grinned. “It’s not really my fault, Delilah is my mother.”
Brandt laughed. “So what are we having for breakfast?”
“Some kind of eggs, bacon, toast, and whatever else I can find.”
“Want some help?” Brandt asked.
“Naw, I got it. Drink your coffee and let me work my magic.”
~~~
Emmalyn practically bit through her lips in an effort to keep her mouth closed and not go off on Barron or Brandt. She’d heard them, every word they’d said, until she’d decided she didn’t need to hear anymore and high-tailed it back to Barron’s bedroom. She grabbed her clothes as quickly and quietly as she could, shoving them into her bag, only this time she only took what she needed. She didn’t have the ability to carry all of her bags and jump out of the window and make a quick getaway, but three was doable. Her backpack, and a duffel and the overnight.
She eyed her backpack, still holding her laptop, and thought of her makeup bag, and all the clothes she’d put away the night before, when she’d believed that Barron really wanted her there. She filled her overnight bag and her duffel to the point of breaking, and put on a pair of jeans and a teeshirt, then put two pairs of leggings another teeshirt and a sweatshirt on top since they wouldn’t fit in her bags, then put her hiking boots on. She tiptoed to the bathroom to grab her makeup bag, then went back to the bedroom and packed it in her backpack. She wasn’t willing to chance the shampoo and other hair products she’d brought with her because if they broke open they could spill on her laptop. She wasn’t sure the cushioned slot it was stored in was enough to keep it dry if her shampoo spilled, so leaving them behind was the only option. Standing in the bedroom, she very slowly eased the window up, dropped her bags one at a time out of the window, then put her backpack on, and jumped.
Landing on the ground, in the steady rain, she hesitated for a moment to make sure no one was aware of her making her getaway, and did a couple of fist pumps as she realized she was completely undetected. She picked up her two bags and keeping to the wooded parts of the property, took the long way around to the only place she could think of to go. The only place with no male to let Barron know where she was. The only place with no male that might make her want to remove his head from his shoulders, because that was about how she was beginning to feel about all of them. She was going to Hellen’s house, despite the fact that Hellen wasn’t there and hadn’t been for more than a few days at a time for the last month or so. It was the only quiet, safe place she could think of at the moment, and it was just a few minutes hike away.
Fifteen minutes later she stood in the backyard of Hellen’s home. It was located at the end of the road it sat on, a fair distance from Havoc and Analise’s, and while not visible to the other houses, it was still close enough to not be isolated. Deciding that diplomacy was best with Hellen, since she’d been really distant and acting strange lately, she took a moment to reach out telepathically.
Having some issues, don’t want to go home. Barron and Brandt are dicks. Havoc and Analise are too in love to stomach at the moment. Mind if I crash at your place for a while?
Almost immediately she received an answer from Hellen — well, almost an answer. Hellen sent her a mental image of the hanging plants in her backyard.
Dropping her bags behind the house, she started taking down the dead potted plants and examining them. Not finding anything at all to have made Hellen send her mental images of them, she started lifting them out of their baskets one at a time before plopping them back in. “Aha!” she shouted when she’d located the spare key to the back door and held it up triumphantly.
Thank you, she thought to Hellen.
Hellen sent her a warm, loving feeling, then shut her right out.
“Alrighty, then. Leave you alone I shall,” Emmalyn said aloud, taking the hint and shutting down her own telepathy so no one else from the clan could get a read on her without her wanting them to. She’d know if any of her clan mates were trying to reach her, and only Hellen or Analise would get a reply. Theirs were the only two lines of communication she left open.
She unlocked the back door, carried her bags inside and locked the door behind herself. She made herself at home in one of Hellen’s spare bedrooms, stripped off all three of the now wet changes of clothes she’d worn so she could take more of her clothes with her when she left Barron’s and wandered from one door to the next looking for a bathroom. On finding one, she took the time to dry off, then wrapped her hair in a towel before changing into a pair of Hellen’s pajamas. Finally dry and warm, she went to the kitchen to see what Hellen might happen to have to eat. Hopefully there would be something that hadn’t expired. Wasn’t long at all before she was relaxing, watching TV, munching on a pack of warmed cherry-flavored frosted toaster pastries with butter slathered on them, and an over-sized mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of her. Luckily, Hellen had a well stocked fridge and pantry, so she wouldn’t even have to venture out to eat. The fact that she chose junk food as her food of choice, spoke to her attitude at the moment. Sugar always made her feel better, and junk food was her favorite guilty pleasure. As she finished her last bite of cherry toaster pastry, she felt an urgent nudge at her consciousness, and knew Barron and Brandt had figured out she was gone. “Fuck you both,” she whispered. She gulped down the rest of her hot chocolate and snuggled deeper into the blankets on Hellen’s sofa, refusing to acknowledge either of them.
~~~
“Don’t eat it all. Let me go see if Emmalyn wants to get up and eat while it’s hot,” Barron said.
“Like I wouldn’t save her any. You, now, I wouldn’t, but Emmalyn, I’ll save some food,” Brandt teased.
Barron went back across the living room then down the hallway to his bedroom and gently pushed open the door. He moved quietly around the bed and only realized she wasn’t lying there just before he tried to touch her to wake her. “Emmalyn?” he asked, looking around the bedroom.
“Em? You in the bathroom?” he asked, walking over to the closed door. He knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. “Emmalyn?” Barron called a little louder. There was still no answer.
Rushing back to the bedroom he yanked open the drawers in his dresser and noticed that most of her clothes that had been folded and put beside his were gone. “Oh, fuck!” he yelled as he hurried to the closet. There were some of her things, but unfortunately he’d not paid enough attention to where she’d unpacked everything to know if there was anything gone or not.
He ran back to the bathroom. “I’m gonna kick this fucking door in, Emmalyn. If you’re in there, say so now!”
Brandt heard the shouted threat and hurried to the bathroom. “What’s going on?” Brandt asked.
“I’m not sure,” Barron said, taking a step back from the bathroom door and kicking it right below the door handle. The door splintered and sprung open, kind of wobbling on its hinges. Barron barged into the bathroom but almost immediately froze in his tracks. “Fuck!” he yelled.
Brandt stood right behind him, looking at the message scrawled across Barron’s bathroom mirror.
Written across the mirror in the dark mauve lipstick she favored was, ‘I should have known better. Asshole. PS: Your voice carries all over this fucking house.’
“Why would she leave? You said last night was great. You said how good you feel. You didn’t say anything derogatory,” Brandt said.
Barron stood still, staring at the message she’d left. Eventually he turned slowly to meet Brandt’s gaze. “Unless she only heard the first part. If she didn’t stick around to hear the rest, she might have misunderstood. Maybe she thinks that I was playing her.”
Brandt thought about the beginning of their conversation. “Oh, shit. Yeah, the first few minutes would have sounded bad if she didn’t stick around for the rest. Fuck… we just have to make her listen to the rest of it. You have any idea where she’d have gone?”
“Analise’s? But she knows I’d check there first. So, most likely she’s not there.”
“Anywhere else?” Brandt asked.
“If she’s not there… I don’t know. I honestly do not know. But I’m gonna find her. I have to find her, Brandt.”
“Let me try,” Brandt said. “She always answers me.”
Brandt reached out telepathically — with his head voice, and got nothing. Then he tried to nudge her, to let her know that he wanted to contact her, but he still got nothing.
Barron in the meantime tried to connect with her through their bond, but he could literally feel it slam shut on him. “Sonofabitch.” He pushed past Brandt and went back in the bedroom, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. He dialed Bam’s number and waited for Bam to answer. “Uncle Bam! Would Emmalyn happen to be there?” he asked.
“You lost her already, didn’t you?” Bam asked wryly.
“It’s just a misunderstanding. We’ll laugh about it when I explain it to her,” Barron said, trying to force a laugh.
“If you find her. She ain’t here, boy. And for whatever reason Kaid has us all on a tighter security. You better find my daughter.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it,” Barron said, not even bothering to say goodbye.
“She’s not there?” Brandt asked.
“No. I’m going out to look for her,” Barron said, walking out of the bedroom as he dialed Emmalyn’s number. “Hey! It’s me. Answer the phone Emmalyn. I know what you think you heard, but you’re wrong. Answer the damn phone. And call me back.” He ended the call and glanced over his shoulder at Brandt. “I’m going to Havoc’s and Analise’s,” he said.
“Makes sense. Maybe she went there thinking you’d think she wouldn’t because you’d know she’d go there.”
“What?” Barron asked.
“Don’t ask me to say that again. I’m not sure I can,” Brandt said.
“I’ll let you know if she’s there,” Barron said, striding for the door.
“I’ll turn off everything in your kitchen and lock up. I’ll meet you there.”