Chapter 34 – BODHI
BODHI
Idrain my glass in one burning swallow, the whiskey lighting a path down my throat. Around the room, my brothers watch me with varying degrees of concern and frustration, trying to balance what’s right for the clan with what’s right for me.
They remember what Leon did; there’s no way they’ll force me to come back. But they’re hoping I’ll come to that conclusion on my own.
“I need some air.” The chair scrapes against wood as I stand, my mind spinning with all the different decisions and permutations of my future that I’m trying to balance.
A fresh start with my mate versus reclaiming what should have been mine all along. A life among my kind versus hiding away in the mountains with the woman I don’t even know will still have me.
“Take your time,” Mitch says. “We’ll be here.”
Without meeting anyone’s eye, I walk through the bar and out onto the street, pushing down the storm of emotions that’s building inside me.
Evening has settled over the landscape, painting everything in shades of gold and shadow.
I shove my hands in my pockets and start walking, no destination in mind, but grateful to have some time alone to think.
The changes hit me harder now that I’m really looking.
A vegetable garden thrives where empty beer bottles used to litter the ground.
A communal BBQ has been built around a fire pit that Dad’s lieutenants would hang out around late into the night.
Fresh paint brightens houses that were peeling under Leon’s rule.
“Bodhi?” A young woman emerges from one house, baby balanced on her hip. Sarah, I think. She was just a teenager when I left, the same age as me. “Is it really you?”
The baby stares at me with round eyes, one chubby fist wrapped around its mother’s hair. He can sense my bear, the power contained within me, and he’s transfixed.
Sarah’s face lights up with genuine pleasure. “I heard you were back. Does this mean you’re staying?”
The hope in her voice makes my chest tight. Before I can answer, more doors open. People drift onto porches and into yards, drawn by curiosity, or maybe just the novelty of seeing the prodigal son return.
“He looks like Marcus,” someone mutters from a shadowed doorway. “On steroids.”
“I heard his bear is the size of a van,” another voice whispers. “Stood in front of a speeding car once to save his brother’s mate.”
I don’t know whether to be more concerned that they know about this stuff, or that they seem happy about it.
Nodding politely in greeting, I keep walking, past a new playground where cubs chase each other in the fading light, their laughter carrying on the breeze.
Past what looks like a community centre with lights blazing, voices drifting through open windows, and a clinic with an actual medical sign hanging outside instead of the boarded-up windows I remember.
“Bodhi.” Mitch’s voice calls from somewhere behind me. I turn to see him striding behind me, a toolbox hanging from one hand, any self-pity pushed aside by his built-in sense of duty to his clan. “Want to make yourself useful while you’re here?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, just keeps walking toward a half-built structure near the treeline. Against my better judgment, I follow.
The skeleton of a small house stands in a cleared lot, and fresh lumber gleams pale in the twilight. Mitch sets down his toolbox and pulls out a hammer, testing its weight in his hand.
“What is this?” I ask, studying the frame. One of my many jobs while I roamed from territory to territory was construction. Being this big can be a hindrance, but not in that line of work. Something my brother Ben put to good use making us extend his house recently.
“Starter home.” He selects a handful of nails from a box.
“Young couple, first cub on the way. They’ve been living with her parents, but that’s no way to start a family.
He’s been struggling to find a job because Dad got him to be the getaway driver, unknowingly, for a heist he pulled, and he got caught. ”
I growl. It’s a familiar story. Someone else’s future prospects ruined by Leon’s selfishness. It was how he made sure clan members had no choice but to become part of his crew. Get them a record early, and they have no other option.
Mitch tosses me a hammer. I catch it automatically; the wooden handle smooth and familiar in my grip. Generosity wasn’t a hallmark of my father’s leadership, but it looks like that’s another thing Mitch is trying to change.
He lines up a support beam, holding it steady. “You gonna help or just stand there looking confused?”
For a moment I do exactly that, just stand and stare, hammer dangling from my hand, then I step up beside him and hold the beam while he starts the first nail, proud of what he’s achieved in such a short space of time.
The rhythm comes back easily, and we work well together, falling into the unspoken communication siblings have. My bear slowly relaxes, relishing the physical exertion and enjoying the simple work. I strip off my shirt, the sweat on my skin cooling as the sun sinks lower.
The sound of hammering draws others like a beacon. First one, then three, then half a dozen clan members appear with their own tools. Someone strings up work lights as darkness begins to fall. Someone else appears with sandwiches and thermoses of coffee.
“Looking good,” an older man says, running his hand along a freshly secured beam.
Frank, I remember. He used to run the garage before Leon shut it down for not being profitable enough. I suspect Frank refused to use it as a front for some of his illegal activities, and that was Dad’s way of putting him back in his place.
“At this rate, we’ll have walls up by the weekend.”
More people arrive as word spreads. Cubs run between their parents’ legs, chasing fireflies and shrieking with laughter. It’s chaos, but organized chaos. Everyone seems to know their role without being told.
Normal life, better than before, continues despite the drama Garrett is trying to stir up. This is Mitch’s way of bringing stability to the clan, no matter what’s going on, and I can see how at ease it makes everyone to see him unruffled.
Which is exactly what Emma wants: for me to be her calm in the storm, not the waves that drown her.
A small boy points at me with a sticky hand from whatever he’s been eating. “Mama said he’s the strongest bear ever.”
His mother swoops in, scooping him up with an apologetic look in my direction. “Sorry about that. He’s been asking about you since he heard you were back.”
The boy studies me over his mother’s shoulder, head tilted with that fearless curiosity only children possess. “You don’t look scary.”
His mother looks at me, cheeks pink, before spiriting him away. I’m guessing he wasn’t supposed to repeat that part.
“Smart kid.” Mitch observes, driving another nail home with three precise strikes. “Gives his mother hell, but he’s so clever.”
Mitch watches them fondly as they leave, and I sense his longing. He’s always wanted a family, and being the eldest, he’s waited long enough.
We work steadily as the house frame takes shape. My shoulders burn from the repetitive motion, but it’s a good burn from honest, hard work. As I roll them out, rubbing away the ache, Mitch curses, and I see his eyes locked onto the tiny scar left behind by my fierce little human.
Well, not mine, really. Not yet. But I’m hers. Always will be.
“Is that…?” Mitch trails off, voice low.
“Kind of. She didn’t know what it meant when she did it.”
Mitch stares, open-mouthed, then his brow creases. “Well, did you explain it to her? And do it back?” He looks around, confused, like Emma’s about to jump out from behind a tree.
“No. Hence why I’m here alone.” I glance around at the men I just reconnected with, including my brothers, and suddenly see them as unmated males, competition, men who shouldn’t be let anywhere near my mate.
Looking more than a little concerned, Mitch shakes his head, slowly at first, and getting more vigorous, but before he can tell me what I’m doing wrong, he’s interrupted.
“Good to have you back.” One of the old-timers pats me on the shoulder as he passes, calling it a day.
It’s such a simple thing, but my chest swells with emotion. No reprimand for not coming sooner. No judgement for staying away.
“The clan’s different now,” Mitch says quietly beside me, my disastrous mating situation temporarily forgotten. “We’re building something here. Something real. A proper fucking family for all these people, and a way of life that will keep them out of trouble.”
I watch a group of teenagers learning to frame a window from an elder, their faces intent with concentration. Former criminals and those they tormented under Leon’s rule work side by side; the past not forgotten, but not trapping them in a vicious cycle of bitterness and grudges either.
Everyone wants a fresh start.
“I can see that.” I admit. “You’ve done good, Mitch. You should be proud.”
He nods, accepting the compliment, but stands and looks me dead in the eye. “I am. We’ve done a lot, and we’ll keep making it better.” Mitch continues. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’d still be here to help.”
I press my lips into a thin line, not liking where this conversation is going.
“Mitch...”
He holds his hands up, all innocent with a smile on his face.
“Just saying.” He shrugs and moves to help secure another beam. “And I’m not trying to guilt you. You need to do what’s right for you, too. For both of you.”
We lock eyes, but he doesn’t ask where my mate is or what she thinks about all of this because he knows if things were good, she’d be by my side.
We work for hours. My hands are blistered, my back aches, and I’m covered in sawdust and sweat. But when Mitch finally says we’ve done enough for the day, I stand back and look at what we’ve accomplished. It’s just a frame still, but it’s solid.
“Same time tomorrow?” Frank asks the group at large. “The weather’s supposed to hold.”