Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Nathaniel
A furrow forms between Chloe’s brows, her expression troubled, and her floral scent takes on a bitter note.
My hand moves from her back to her neck, and I massage behind her ear. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates, fidgeting with her collar. “I’m scared of what else Louie might do to get me back.”
The tremble in her voice tugs at my heart. I want to pull her into my arms and shield her from the world, but I hold back, waiting for her to continue.
“The first time I tried to run away…” She swallows hard. “He took away the laptop he’d given me. And put me on an even harsher food restriction than before.”
A growl comes from Dominic, his knuckles whitening as his hands clench into fists. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”
“Shush.” I turn toward Quinn, who had paused in her cleanup duty to peer toward us with a frown. “I still see glitter, princess. Why don’t you ask Holden for something to help clean it up?”
She whines but slides off the bench to stomp into the kitchen.
My attention returns to Chloe, and I cup her soft cheek. “You’re safe now. Our pack will never let Louie hurt you again.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she protests. “What if?—”
“No what ifs,” I say. “We’re going to protect you, no matter what. Louie can’t touch you anymore. You’re pack now, and we take care of what’s ours.”
Her lips part on a shaky exhale, and a purr rumbles in my chest when she doesn’t protest. She’s not pack yet, but she will be. We all know it’s only a matter of time. The bond hums with her presence in our home, and when her Heat hits, we’ll Mark her, claiming every inch of her rosy skin so no Alpha can ever touch her again.
I long to capture that sweet mouth with my own, to taste her. Claim her. I want to erase all traces of Louie from her body and fill her with me instead, but the buzzing of my phone in my pocket interrupts me.
Dammit. Not now.
Frustrated, I pull it out, intending to silence it, but Chloe sees the name on the screen first.
Her brow furrows. “Is that your dad? You should answer it. It could be important.”
My thumb hovers over the answer button, not wanting to take my focus off her when she’s still upset. But the phone keeps vibrating insistently in my hand.
With a sigh, I squeeze Chloe’s fingers and connect eyes with Dominic to silently ask him to do whatever she’ll allow as far as comfort goes before I step away to take the call. “What is it, Dad? I’m in the middle of?—”
“What the hell is going on over there, Nathaniel?” my father barks. “I just got a call saying our goddamn construction site has been shut down by some inspector! Would you care to explain how you let that happen?”
Shock bolts through me. How did he find out so fast? The inspector had only just left.
“I’m handling it,” I grit out, gripping the phone tighter. “There were some minor code violations that need to be addressed before we can resume work. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” he scoffs. “It sure as hell is a big deal if it’s costing me money!”
“It’s not costing you anything?—”
He raises his voice to talk over me. “I expect you to get this sorted out immediately. Don’t make me regret financing this little dream project of yours.”
And there it is, the reminder that without him, Misty Pines Resort wouldn’t have even been possible.
Blood pounds in my ears, but before I can fire back a retort, the front door bangs open, and Sprinkles comes bounding inside, tail wagging with excitement, followed by Blake.
“Uncle Blake!” Quinn comes rushing out of the kitchen, a handheld vacuum in her hands.
A cacophony of barking and loud voices fills the house, which at any other time would fill me with joy, but with my father still raging in my ear, it just adds to the chaos in the house and in my head.
I step away from the commotion, retreating to the shadowed hallway leading to the media room. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Chloe looking toward me, her brow furrowed in concern. But she keeps her distance.
In the relative quiet, my father’s tirade continues to batter my ear.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to maintain my composure as tension coils increasingly tighter in my gut. My thumb spins the silver ring on my finger to give me something to focus on.
When my dad takes a breath, I cut in, “I said I’ll handle it. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“How can I trust you when this job has been nothing but a nightmare the last month?” he barks and circles back to a previous tirade about my negligence in allowing Grady to be injured on the island.
Soft footsteps approach from behind, and I turn to find Blake walking toward me, his lips pressing together with displeasure when he catches the sound of my father’s voice through the speaker.
Our eyes meet, and he leans against me, his pheromones offering silent comfort. The simple gesture eases some of the tension knotting between my shoulder blades. The heat of his body seeps into mine, the comforting scent of applewood and cider filling my lungs.
He doesn’t say anything, just stands as a steady presence at my side, reminding me why we’re doing all this.
Another shriek from Quinn pierces the air, followed by a bark from Sprinkles and the scramble of claws on the hardwood floor. A second later, they chase each other down the hallway and toward Sprinkles’ room at the back of the house.
“And another thing,” my father snaps, rising in volume with each word. “What were you thinking, bringing that child into the pack now? We’re at a critical juncture with the construction project, and you decide to take on a charity case? It’s like you’re trying to sabotage everything we’ve worked for!”
Blake stiffens, and white-hot anger surges through my veins. My hand tightens around the phone, the plastic creaking in protest. “Quinn is not a charity case. She’s Blake’s niece and a welcomed addition to our pack. Our decision to have her here has nothing to do with the project.”
“Doesn’t it?” my father scoffs. “Ever since that girl arrived, you’ve been distracted, unfocused. Letting things slip through the cracks. Now look where we are! Shut down by some pencil-pushing inspector!”
I open my mouth to argue, but he barrels on. “You need to get your priorities straight, Nathaniel. Remember your duty. You may have left the Burton pack, but you still carry our name, so failure is not an option. Not if you want to prove yourself worthy of leading your own pack.”
Something snaps inside me, the last fraying thread of my patience giving way. “I am worthy,” I snarl, the words echoing off the narrow walls. “I’ve given everything to this project, to my pack, and I won’t let you continue to question my commitment.”
Before he can tear me down again, I end the call, my chest heaving with anger. The sudden silence rings in my ears, broken only by the harsh rasp of my breathing.
Blake reaches around me, pries my fingers apart to take my phone, and slips it into his pocket. “Are you okay?”
I let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand down my face. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“This isn’t about me.” Blake leans against me harder, the weight of his body grounding me. “I asked if you’re okay.”
I huff out a harsh breath. “No. I fucking hate him sometimes.”
Understanding softens Blake’s features. “Your father was out of line. You’re a damn good leader. Don’t doubt yourself because of him.”
My fingers curl into my palms, nails digging in. “Somehow, he found out the job site is shut down.”
Blake’s jaw works. “You think one of our workers is a plant from the Burton pack?”
“That or we were wrong about Louie being behind the inspector showing up.” I knock the back of my head on the wall. “Want to take bets on whether my dad has an insurance policy that makes sure this project fails?”
“Don’t think like that. He wants you to succeed,” Blake says. “He’s just still pissed that you’re not at his beck and call twenty-four seven anymore, and he has to name a new successor.”
“Doesn’t matter. If I don’t fix this, leaving the family pack will have meant nothing.”
“We’ll fix it.” Blake steps back to grip my shoulder. “I’ll alert Emily to monitor the workers, and Dom will run a deeper background check. If any of the workers have a connection to your dad, we’ll find them and kick them off our island.”
“It’s not supposed to be this hard.” I look back down the hall, to where I can still hear Chloe and Dominic in the dining room. “This should be a happy time for our pack, but so much bullshit keeps getting in the way.”
“It does, and it sucks.” With a final squeeze, Blake releases me. “But you’re not doing it alone. We’re all in this together, and come summer, when we’ve met the stipulations of the contract and dealt with Louie, we’ll be stronger for getting through this point in our lives.”
“I’d rather be less strong and just have it be smooth sailing,” I grumble, his optimism unable to dispel the negativity brought on by the day, followed by dealing with my father.
I catch a flash of pink hair as Chloe peeks down the hall at us before she ducks back out of view.
“Someone’s worried about you.” Blake flashes me a quick grin. “Take a second to gather yourself, then come back out to join us, okay?”
When I nod, he heads out. A second later, Chloe’s sweet giggle fills the air, followed by Blake’s low rumble.
Alone in the shadowed hallway, I close my eyes and take a deep, centering breath, trying to shake off the lingering rage.
There’s nothing I can do about my father, the inspector, or Louie right now. But knowing and shrugging it off don’t go hand in hand for me the way they do for Blake. The worries just simmer in the back of my mind, making it hard to focus on anything happy.
With a final deep breath, I square my shoulders and head back into the dining room to join the others, determined to salvage what’s left of the evening.
The scent of dinner wraps around me as I step out. Immediately, my attention is drawn to Chloe, caught up in Blake’s arms as he tickles her. Nearby, Dominic finishes cleaning up the art project mess now that Quinn has vanished. The scene eases the tightness in my chest.
Mine, the Alpha in me growls. My pack to protect.
Chloe spots me and wiggles free of Blake’s hold to hurry forward, her cheeks pink from laughing. “Hey, everything okay?”
Unable to resist the urge to touch, I tug her close. “It will be.” I bend to fill my lungs with the scent of lilacs and lilies mingled with applewood and cider. “Sorry about that. My father…”
Chloe’s slender arms wind around my waist, and she tilts her head back, concern etched across her delicate features. “You have nothing to apologize for. Is he upset about the inspector’s findings?”
I brush a kiss across her furrowed brow. “Among other things. If it wasn’t this, though, it would be something else.”
“It shouldn’t be anything.” Chloe’s pink eyes flash. “Family should be supportive.”
An ache opens in my chest. We were both dealt shitty hands in the family department and share the same pain of being disappointed by our parents.
Her pain calls to me, settling deep in my chest, stoking my need to soothe and be soothed in return. I want to lay her before the fire, to show her how different our pack is from the ones we left. To trace every inch of her soft skin with lips, tongue, and teeth until she unravels in my arms, until my scent clings to her very soul.
Soon, I promise myself, reining in my desire before it can bleed into my scent and betray me. I won’t risk spooking her by acting like a beast and dragging her off to my bedroom before we’ve even had dinner.
“With such poor examples, we have a clear road map of things not to do with our pack,” I say gruffly. “We’ll strive to do better.”
“Of course we will.” Chloe rises onto her tiptoes to brush a fleeting kiss across my cheek, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not turn my head and catch her lips with my own.
A hand vacuum whirs to life, and Chloe steps back with regret. “I should help Dom clean up the mess I made, since I’m the one who pulled out the bucket with the glitter.”
“I’m sure Quinn tricked you into it.” I release her with reluctance. “She knows what’s in each tote.”
A smile curls Chloe’s sweet lips. “I’m sure she does, and I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
As she turns to join Dom at the table, I admire the tempting sway of her hips. But without her as an immediate distraction, the negative whispers rise once more in the back of my mind.
Someone on my construction team is reporting to my father. Someone I trusted. And I’m no longer as confident that the timely arrival of the inspector can be laid at Louie’s feet.
I hate all this unnecessary drama. If a bank had just approved our application, I wouldn’t have to worry about my father. If we had stopped Chloe’s vile mother from handing her over to Louie, she wouldn’t have had to suffer. Then there’s still the lurker…
Despite our cameras, we haven’t caught the man on video. Could the person reporting to my father be our mysterious lurker? Or is he linked to Louie? There are too many options, leaving me further unsettled.
As Chloe takes the hand vacuum from Dom, I drag my eyes away from them and catch Blake watching me.
He studies me before tilting his head toward the hallway and mouthing, Gym?
I nod, grateful for the escape. Exhausting my body is the only way I’ll quiet my mind right now. Since I can’t drag Chloe off to test our bond…
I clear my throat, drawing Chloe and Dom’s attention. “Blake and I are going to head down to the gym for a bit. If we’re not back up for dinner, don’t wait for us.”
Chloe’s brow furrows, but she doesn’t push. “No problem. We’ll let Holden and Quinn know.”
Dom’s expression shifts into one of understanding. “Don’t go too hard on the punching bags. I’d hate to have to patch you up later.”
“No promises.” Blake claps me on the shoulder, turning me away from the two.
We head down to the basement gym and change into our workout clothes.
Then I pull on gloves and head straight for the punching bag.
Since I can’t take out my frustration on my father, this is the next best thing.
With a grunt, I unleash a flurry of jabs and hooks at the bag, my muscles warming up with each impact.
After half an hour, sweat drips into my eyes, but I barely notice, too lost in landing the next punch. At least like this, I block out my father’s voice in my head.
“Easy, there.” Blake, who had been warming up on the treadmill, catches the bag as it swings, bringing it back into alignment. “Technique, remember? Don’t hurt yourself while working off steam.”
I grunt and take a step back, shaking out my arms. He’s right. Sloppiness in the gym could lead to an injury, which would be another setback.
Blake pulls on the focus mitts and holds up his hands. “Channel it. Use it, but don’t let it use you.”
I bounce on the balls of my feet as I settle into a rhythm. Jab, cross, hook, uppercut. The satisfying thwack of glove against mitt echoes through the gym, mingling with our harsh breaths.
We trade off, Blake pushing me to keep my guard up, to stay light on my feet. To think, not just react. The familiar dance helps clear my head, the vise around my chest loosening with each punch.
“Better,” Blake says after a while, lowering the mitts. “How’s the headspace now?”
I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge and take a long swig, considering. I’m still irritated at our current situation, but aside from my dad adding pressure, inspectors will always be a part of any construction. Even if someone is behind this visit, an inspector having a bad day could lead to the same setback. That’s why we build in lots of padding.
“We’ll fix the shit list, then call in your friend down at the office so he’s the one who checks the work.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Dom’s already digging into the inspector. If we discover he was paid to throw a wrench into our project, we’ll get his license revoked and let our lawyers handle a lawsuit.”
Blake grins. “Let’s hope he’s stupid enough to splurge on a big purchase he can’t explain.”
“That would simplify things.” People not used to money who have a sudden windfall almost always splurge without thinking about how that will raise red flags. “In the meantime, we’ll weed out the mole.”
As much as I hate to admit it, the list of suspects is depressingly short. People I’ve known for years, who I thought were loyal. Briefly, my thoughts turn to Emily, who’s intimately aware of every aspect of our lives, but I shake the suspicion away.
If we can’t trust Emily, then we can’t trust anyone.