Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-one
TOM
Hours after the rest of the Council party had left for the airport, Tom still sat in his hotel room, contemplating the wallpaper. He had no idea what time it was, only that the pink and blue chrysanthemums had blurred into a headache-inducing mess.
Eventually, he had to acknowledge that the only way out was through. The sooner he had something useful to tell Councilor Steadman, the sooner he could leave.
He balked at the thought of driving back to the ranch and seeing the look on Bryce’s face when he found Tom still hadn’t taken the hint.
Just the thought of it made his gut twist. Remembering that three of the pack worked at the diner, he decided to try there first. Maybe he could do this quietly, get what he needed without ever going near Bryce again.
The moment he stepped inside, he second-guessed his decision.
“Tom!” Tristan was beaming as he moved forward. He waved a menu around like it was a lightsaber, narrowly missing Nerissa, who was at the same table as before, watching Tom with unblinking interest.
“Oops, sorry, Ms. Taylor.” He brandished the menu in Tom’s direction, only just missing his eye. “Why haven’t you gone back to Washington? Is the councilor still here? Oh, and do you want a table?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Tom managed a faint smile. However hollow he felt inside, it was impossible to resist Tristan’s enthusiasm. Especially when he wrangled a quick break and plopped down in the seat across from Tom.
Tristan started talking almost immediately—about how amazing it had been to speak to Councilor Steadman, and what the President might make of an Argent. Tom sipped his coffee and let him talk. It was easier than trying to find words himself. He was wrung dry.
Eventually, Tristan slowed, his brow creasing. “Hey, are you okay? You look like crap.” He winced. “I mean—sorry. You just don’t look like you, that’s all.”
“I think I’m coming down with something,” Tom said, clutching at the excuse Steadman had given him. It might not even be a lie, because his stomach had turned at the smell of food as he’d walked in and it hadn’t grown any happier as he’d sipped at his coffee. He pushed the cup away from him.
“I know it’s none of my business, but—”
“Do you have Matt’s number?” Tom cut in before he could hear Bryce’s name spoken aloud. He wasn’t ready to hear it again. He didn’t think he’d ever be.
Tristan blinked, startled, but pulled out his phone without protest. As he turned the screen to show Tom the number, Tom’s path became clear to him.
He wasn’t interested in manipulating this pack just because one of them happened to shine under moonlight.
The political stakes were high, but the personal stakes for Jesse, for Matt, for the entire pack were incalculable.
He’d be upfront with Jesse and Matt about what Bennett intended and what Steadman was scared of.
Then, they could make their own decisions, fully informed.
And if Steadman didn’t like it, well, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about that. It wasn’t as though she could do anything more than fire him.
Tom hit call and lifted the phone to his ear. Whatever Tristan had been about to say about Bryce, he didn’t want to hear it. Not now. And if he had anything to say about it, not ever.
brYCE
“Bryce.”
He carefully set down the beam onto the pile of lumber, noting with some surprise that his muscles ached as he did so. He didn’t know how long he’d been doing this, but as he turned to face Matt, he was aware of sweat stinging his eyes.
“Figured you should know, Tom’s on his way.”
Bryce’s stomach turned over. “Why?” he asked, and bit his lip at the aggression in his tone. Friendship wouldn’t protect him from his alpha’s discipline, and the frown in Matt’s eyes underlined that.
“Sorry, Matt,” he said swiftly. “But why’s he coming?” Despite his best effort, his voice warbled with the shock of it. “I thought he’d gone back to Washington.”
“Apparently not, and he wants to talk to me and Jesse.”
“Okay, so I’ll just—”
“And you need to be there.”
Bryce was shaking his head before Matt had finished speaking. “Matt, I can’t. Don’t make me.” The plea escaped before he could stop it.
Matt was merciless. Part of what made him such a good alpha. “You have to. Running away from this won’t solve anything. If you’re determined you don’t want your mate, you need to be able to face that decision and its consequences.”
Matt looked over to the mountains, his eyes narrowed against the sun. “There’s two of you involved in this, and I saw the way he looked this morning. You owe it to him to make it as easy as possible on him, and if that means seeing him and explaining, that’s what you need to do.”
“Owe it?” Bryce was vibrating with fury. “That’s precisely why this whole mate thing is bullshit. I don’t owe him anything just because some random biological urge tells me to be with him.”
Matt turned his gaze on Bryce, and sympathy was in his eyes.
“It’s more than that,” he said. “So very much more. But if you won’t see it, I can’t make you.
” He glanced away. “Be in the house in fifteen minutes. As much as anything else, I need you there as my beta. You know this guy better than any of us and I need you to read him, weigh what he’s saying and how truthful he’s being. What’s he like?”
Bryce’s throat clicked as he tried to swallow, his mouth dry. “He’s a good guy,” he said at last. “He’s sharp and observant, and he’s got principles and compassion.” He attempted to huff a laugh, but it didn’t really work. “Can’t for the life of me see what he’s doing in politics.”
“Can’t for the life of me see why you’re rejecting him if he’s everything you say,” Matt said, and turned away. “We’re going to talk about this, Bryce, because I know you. It’s going to eat you up inside, and I don’t want that for you.”
Bryce’s eyes burned as he bent to pick up the piece of wood again. He’d never had any defenses against Matt.
“I’ll be there,” he said abruptly. The surge of triumph from his wolf was instant—bright and eager. Bryce stamped it down. Just like he would for the rest of his life if he had to.