Chapter 49 – IVY #2
"Gotta agree with Wraith," Whiskey says, leaning down to my level with that shit-eating grin of his. "Thane drives like he's got a stick up his ass."
"I can hear you," Thane calls from the backseat.
"Good." Whiskey's grin widens before his expression softens. "Take care of yourself, okay? And text if you need anything. Seriously." He pats the edge of the door. "I'll be there so fast you'll think I teleported."
"I will," I promise, then glance at Plague who's hanging back slightly, arms crossed in that way he does when he's feeling vulnerable but trying to hide it. His surgical mask is back in place, too. "Both of you behave while we're gone."
"We always behave," Plague says dryly, though the bite mark I left on his neck says otherwise.
"That's debatable," I say, earning a rare quiet laugh from him.
Wraith shifts anxiously in the driver's seat, a low rumble vibrating through the SUV.
Time to go. I raise the window as Whiskey steps back, throwing up a casual salute while Plague gives a slight nod.
Through the rear window, I watch them standing together in the fluorescent gloom until we turn the corner and they disappear.
The SUV emerges from the underground parking into late afternoon sunlight that makes me squint after the comparatively dim lighting.
Wraith is tense, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.
Whenever he steals a glance at me, his mood lightens visibly, but it's still obvious something's bothering him.
And I don't think it's just that he's worried about Valek.
"You okay?" I ask softly.
He glances at me, blue eyes troubled above his mask, then nods. But it's not convincing.
From the backseat, Thane leans forward slightly. "He just gets like this before Cedarbrook trips. Always has."
Wraith's low growl is immediate, defensive.
"What? It's true," Thane says, but there's gentleness in his voice. "Nothing wrong with being stressed about it."
I want to ask why—want to ask what it is about this small town that makes my protective giant so anxious—but something tells me now isn't the time. Instead, I reach over and rest my hand on Wraith's thigh. The muscle is rigid beneath my palm, but he relaxes immediately.
"We need drinks and snacks," Thane announces suddenly. "Can't do a proper road trip without convenience store garbage."
Wraith huffs what might be amusement and takes the next exit toward the edge of the city. A few minutes later, we're pulling into an asphalt field of weedy potholes that barely passes for the parking lot of an even more run down gas station.
"Perfect," Thane says with genuine enthusiasm. "The sketchier the convenience store, the better the snacks."
"Totally," I agree, already unbuckling my seatbelt.
Inside, everything smells vaguely of overcooked hot dogs and gasoline. Thane immediately makes a beeline for the chip aisle like a man on a mission. Everything this alpha does screams "pack leader." He needs to calm down before he gives himself a heart attack.
Maybe I can help him with that if my heat rears its head again on our trip. It's waned for the most part, but sharing a hotel room with these two alphas might change things. My body already responds instantly to Wraith every time he's near me, and they are brothers.
Both my scent matches, too, apparently.
"What's your poison?" Thane asks, grabbing multiple bags of Doritos. "Sweet or salty?"
"Both," I say, watching Wraith hover near the door like he's standing guard. Even in this shitty convenience store, he can't relax, either. "Hey," I call to him softly. "Come help me pick drinks."
He moves toward me reluctantly, and I can feel the cashier's eyes tracking him. Not with recognition, thank fuck, but with wary attention. My heart sinks a little when I realize Wraith doesn't even seem to notice, like he's used to being gawked at.
"Sprite?" I suggest, holding up a bottle.
He nods, then surprises me by grabbing a Mountain Dew Code Red.
"Really?" I can't hide my amusement.
He shrugs. There's something endearing about this intense, giant alpha having a secret weakness for artificially colored, hyper-caffeinated sugar water.
Thane appears with a rainbow of junk food in his arms. "Got the essentials. A shitload of drinks, Doritos, beef jerky, those weird pink coconut things that taste like sugar-coated erasers, candy…"
"We definitely won't starve," I say, already eyeing the jerky. Seems like we have a favorite flavor in common. Sweet habanero. My mouth is already watering.
The cashier, a lanky teenager with more piercings than face, rings us up without comment, though his eyes keep darting to Wraith like he's going to eat him instead of the snacks. We pile back into the SUV with our haul, and as Thane and I are rehydrating, I notice Wraith doesn't open his drink.
"Aren't you going to drink that before we get on the road?" I ask, concerned.
He pauses, then grabs it again and gestures toward the back of the convenience store. Before I get the chance to ask what he's doing, he's out of the SUV and disappearing around the corner of the building.
"He won't lower his mask in front of anyone," Thane explains awkwardly from the back seat, like he isn't sure he should be telling me that.
"Yeah, I figured," I murmur. "He's pretty shy, huh?"
"Yeah. You could say that," he says with a short, humorless laugh. He glances back toward where Wraith disappeared to, then his eyes flick back to me again like he's weighing if he should tell me something.
Wraith returns before he can make up his mind. The bottle is half empty and there's a drop of moisture on the edge of his mask he quickly wipes away.
Sorry, he signs.
"Don't be," I reassure him.
Two hours into the more or less silent drive, save for the classic rock music I put on, my phone buzzes with a group chat notification. I'm curled in the passenger seat, half-dozing to the rhythmic hum of tires on asphalt while Wraith drives with his usual intense focus.
WHISKEY
YOOOO. You're not gonna believe this shit.
I sit up straighter, suddenly alert. Wraith glances at me, concern flickering in his blue eyes above the mask.
WHISKEY
Valek just announced he's gotta jet to Canada. Some emergency or whatever. Packed up and left like his ass was on fire
"What the fuck?" I mutter, showing the screen to Wraith. He can't respond while driving, but his grip on the steering wheel tightens.
From the backseat, Thane leans forward. "What's happening?"
"Valek left," I say, still processing. "Just... left. To Canada."
PLAGUE
The timing is suspicious.
WHISKEY
No shit, Sherlock. We literally just snuck Ivy out and now he's gone?
Wow.
All that panic, all that rushing around, hiding in hotel rooms and sneaking through fire escapes, and the bastard just leaves anyway.
Part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity. The rest of me wonders what the hell he's really up to.
THANE
Follow him.
I glance back at Thane, whose expression has gone from surprised to calculating in about two seconds flat.
Pack leader mode, activated.
WHISKEY
What? Like, spy on him???
THANE
Yes. If we can find something, anything, we can use it to get rid of him permanently. At the very least, kicked out of the pack house.
PLAGUE
That's actually not a terrible idea.
WHISKEY
Bro trip to Canada? Fuck yeah! I'm gonna get maple syrup!
PLAGUE
You can get maple syrup here, too, Whiskey.
WHISKEY
I'm sure they've got secret sauce up there they don't let any other country SNIFF, let alone taste.
Another change, another shift in the constantly moving pieces of my fucked-up life. Which threats are real? Which ones are just shadows I'm jumping at because I've been running so long?
My head hurts trying to figure it all out.
"You okay?" Thane asks from the back, probably noticing my sudden silence.
"Yeah, just..." I trail off, not sure how to articulate the bone-deep weariness of never knowing who to trust, what to fear, when to run. "Processing, I guess."
Wraith's massive hand leaves the steering wheel briefly to rest on my knee, a silent gesture of comfort. The warmth of his rough palm through my jeans soothes my nerves immediately.
"So… what are we doing in Cedarbrook?" I ask, deciding to focus on what's in front of us rather than the chaos behind. "If you don't mind me asking."
Wraith and Thane exchange a glance in the rearview mirror. Something passes between them, some silent brother communication I can't decode. Then Wraith's head jerks in a stiff nod, just once.
Thane leans forward again, his voice gentler than I've heard it before. "Wraith is originally from Cedarbrook. He sees his medical team close to the town once a year for his... condition."
I'm assuming he's talking about the reason Wraith is mute, scarred, and never takes his mask off. I keep my expression neutral, not wanting to make this harder for him.
Thane glances at Wraith again, who gives another small nod. His blue eyes are somber, distant.
"His mother is at a care facility there, too," Thane continues in a soft tone. "Wraith visits her whenever he can."
My chest tightens again. Of course there's family involved. There always is with the complicated shit.
Wraith starts signing, his movements slower and more deliberate than usual. He's fingerspelling more, using simpler gestures instead of the rapid shorthand he usually shares with Thane. He's doing it for me, I realize. Making sure I can follow along.
Y-O-U... S-T-A-Y... H-O-T-E-L... W-I-T-H... T-H-A-N-E. He pauses, then adds, I... G-O... A-L-O-N-E.
The offer—or maybe it's a request—hangs in the air.
He's giving me an out, a way to avoid whatever painful things await him in Cedarbrook.
Part of me wants to insist on going with him, to be there for him the way he's been there for me.
But another part recognizes this might be something he needs to do alone.