Chapter 23
Octavian
One month later
Growing up, I never celebrated my birthday.
My Gran did. She always got me a card with a bit of cash, made me cheesecake because I don’t like actual cake, and she usually bought me a small gift.
It was never anything fancy or over the top, nothing super expensive and it was almost always based on both need and want, but the fact that my grandmother took the time to acknowledge I was born and she was happy about it, it was more than I could have ever asked for.
And it easily made up for the lack of parties.
Then again, you generally have to have friends in order to have parties, so it was sort of a given that there wouldn’t be some big to do each time I made another lap around the sun. But Mandy Jones didn’t do fuck all for me, either.
Which is why I don’t care one way or another if my birthday is celebrated or not. Hell, the only reason I even think about it anymore is because the date is pertinent to my driver’s license and filing my taxes.
Do I celebrate Floyd’s birthday? Damn right I do. He’s had a party—just the two of us—and a doggie safe cupcake every single year since I adopted him, and he always gets a few presents out of the deal, even if he can’t see what they are. Will I celebrate Bella’s birthday?
Hell yes. She’s a sweet angel baby and she is going to be so spoiled when she turns one, and every year that follows.
Am I going to celebrate my alpha’s birthday?
I want to. But the thought of buying him gifts or filling the loft with balloons or whatever else you do for your partner when they’re another year older is terrifying.
I don’t know how to do that or anything like it.
There’s a lot of pressure there, a lot of fear in so much unknown, but I will absolutely try for Bentley.
I’ll try really fucking hard, too, because I’m determined to make sure I show him how much I love him with my actions, not just my grunted words of praise and crabby smiles.
Or my ability to suck his soul out of his body through his dick.
That’s an action neither of us can argue the meaning of, but it can’t be the only way I show Bentley how much he means to me.
My alpha, on the other hand, is all about birthdays and turning them into big deals.
Which is why we’re currently sitting in the parking lot of an upscale Italian restaurant, more dressed up than I’ve ever been, waiting for our reservation time.
Our reservation was officially three minutes ago.
“Bent,” I ask as I turn to my alpha, my eyes moving between him and the clock. “Are we going inside, or would you rather sit here long enough to see if you can bounce your knee up through the steering column?”
Bentley doesn’t stop his anxious bouncing but glances at me before he goes back to staring out the windshield. “We’ll go in a few minutes, baby. I promise.”
“We don’t have to go at all. I’m not sure why this is such a big deal to you, today is just another day, it’s nothing—” My alpha growls in warning and I roll my eyes. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I just don’t want you to feel like we have to do this.”
“I don’t feel that way. This is something I want to do, Tav. I want to celebrate, and I have the most perfect present to give you.”
“I thought we agreed on no gifts? Bentley, I don’t like you making a fuss—”
“There,” he whispers as he throws open his door and bails out of the truck so fast I barely have time to process it. He jogs around the front of the truck to my door, opens it, then practically yanks me out. “Hurry.”
I scowl as my alpha practically drags me across the parking lot, the two of us all but running toward the entrance and when we get there, I about shit.
“Mandy?” I blurt the second my bitch of a mother swings her glassy stare in my direction.
She smiles wide, exposing several missing teeth and wrinkles around her mouth that are so deep she could hold an entire pack of cigarettes in them.
God, she looks like hell.
Her skin is leathery, her face is sunken.
She must weigh about ninety pounds soaking wet.
And she is dressed like she just rolled off of a busted mattress in the middle of an upscale crackhouse.
Pleather mini skirt, obscenely low cut and tight pink blouse, and sky high heels that she’s struggling to stay upright in.
Which means the piece of shit is hammered.
I haven’t seen her in years, and I was really hoping I never would again.
Scowl firmly in place, I turn slowly and look at Bentley, my alpha smiling like he won the damn lottery. “What the hell is going on?”
He ignores me, jutting his hand forward so he can grip my mother’s and shake firmly.
“I’m Bentley Walker, Tav’s mate. He’s told me so much about you. I cannot even tell you how glad I am to finally meet you.”
“Bentley,” I grit through clenched teeth. “What are you—”
“I know we were going to sit down and catch up over dinner, but I have a surprise for Tav’s birthday and I would really love it if you could help me with it.”
That’s it, he’s dead.
I’ve told him everything, every last terrible, traumatic detail, and I can’t fucking believe he’s doing this to me.
I stare at the side of his face as he chats Mandy up, the two of them going back and forth as if they’ve known each other their entire lives, and for some reason, it has me softening just a smidge.
This man has a huge heart, one made of solid gold, and I could absolutely see him throwing this little dinner party together just to try to get me to make amends with Mandy, or maybe in order to try to forgive her.
For my sake, not the bitch’s, because my mate doesn’t want anything in my life that’s going to hurt me, or make me sad, or any other negative emotion.
I can absolutely see that being his motive, but I’m still pissed off about it. I would have been happy if Mandy died and I never found out about it, the woman erased from my life once and for all.
“Let’s go.”
I do a double take as Bentley holds out his arm for my mother to take, then starts leading her back to our truck.
Is it possible to divorce your scent match? One you haven’t married, but did bond with? If not, I’m going to come up with the equivalent because this is the last thing I thought was going to happen tonight, and I’m not fucking thrilled about it.
Crossing my arms against my chest, I stare out the window, watching the scenery go by from the back fucking seat as Bentley drives us toward what I’m pretty sure is the ranch he bought.
I haven’t been out here as many times as he has, probably only a handful, and I’m shit with directions so I’m not positive.
Not until we turn onto the long ass driveway and my alpha proceeds to hit every bump and hole until we stop down by the barns.
“I was thinking the cows could go over there,” Bentley says with a smile as he ushers Mandy down the hill toward the pasture. “Maybe some goats and sheep over that way.”
I roll my eyes, pouting my ass off as I trail behind them.
This is going to go down as one of, if not the worst birthday I’ve ever had, and that includes the year my bitch mother rented me out to a fucking bachelor party.
“This is it.”
We stop next to one of the fences and at first I refuse to look at what Bentley is talking about but as soon as I hear the unmistakable sound of pigs squealing, I get right up against the wood, leaning over it with a smile.
“I know we have some time before we can move in, but I thought we could get a bit of a headstart on things anyway.” Bentley rubs the back of his neck nervously, his eyes trained on the side of my face.
I can’t help but grin wider at the way my alpha blushes when I glance at him, sending my love through our bond. Right along with some you’re not out of the woods yet because he sure as hell isn’t with my mother hanging out with us.
“I never thought I’d see the day Octy was living with a bunch of smelly animals.”
My head snaps in her direction and I glare at Mandy. “I lived with you for years, that’s all you ever brought home.”
She waves me off as she lifts her foot and plants it on the lowest slat in the fence. “At least you had a male influence. Not that it seems to have done you any good.”
“Male influence? Male influence? You seriously want to call those bastards role models?”
“I tried, Octavian,” Mandy slurs as she pulls herself up onto the fence, peering down into the pig pen like she’s never seen goddamn mud before. “I tried very, very—”
I jump as a loud bang goes off, my eyes pinching shut, slamming my hands over my ears as they start to ring. My shoulders bunch up to my chin and I suck in a sharp breath.
What the fuck was that?
It sounded like a goddamn bomb went off.
I force my eyes open, blinking several times as I start working my jaw open and closed, trying to get the ringing to stop, but it goes totally slack at what I see.
My alpha, tucking a fucking gun into a holster under his jacket before he walks up to my mother, who is half-hanging into the pig pen, completely limp and unmoving as smoke floats up from a huge hole in the back of her head, grabs her by the ankles then tosses her over the fence like a goddamn rag doll.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” Bentley says as he wipes his hands on his jeans, smiling wide as he comes to stand next to me.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders while I gape at the pigs that are now treating my mother like that fancy dinner I thought we were going to, and I feel my alpha smile when he presses his lips to my temple. “I hope you liked your present.”
Jesus.
I take back everything I’ve been thinking about my alpha since we missed our reservation.
Everything. Not only will I never, ever come up with a way to divorce him, Bentley Walker is never going to be able to get rid of me either, in this life or the next one, murder be damned.
He gets sick of my shit and decides to off me, too?
He’s still shit out of luck because I will haunt his ass every day for the rest of his life.
He killed Mandy.
My alpha killed Mandy Jones and fed her to the pigs he bought especially for that reason.
I don’t think I could be any more in love with him if I tried.
A man who’s willing to kill for me on more than one occasion is definitely a keeper, especially when he’s sexy as fuck and loves me as hard as Bentley does, and I’ll be damned if I don’t let some silly thing like death or murder come between a bond like ours.