30. Kaycia
Chapter 30
Kaycia
I pack a bag, gathering clean clothes, underwear, and other odds and ends that survived the break-in while Shane quietly sweeps up the disaster of my apartment. His silence is tangible. An unwelcome guest hovering amidst the chaos. The tremor of his muscles while he stared at the picture on his counter betrayed the calm front he was trying to hold together for me. The way he flexed his fingers into white-knuckled fists made me wonder if he would have shifted and added to the destruction if I wasn’t present.
To say I’m upset is an understatement.
I’m devastated.
All the energy I’ve funneled into my paintings, my apartment, my life here. All the money I’ve spent on supplies and decorations to make this a home. All my soul poured into my art to ward off homesickness and fear. Torn into tatters.
But I’m also enraged.
Old me, the me who felt alone even amongst friends and family, who couldn’t bear the idea of making a decision that wasn’t influenced by someone else’s idea of propriety, would have gone running for the hills, or at least the closest airport, by now.
To be used as a pawn to get to Shane is infuriating and I refuse to be frightened away from him over this. His past was a mistake, he paid his price, and I won’t abandon him now. No matter how many times he insists we shouldn’t be together for my safety. I refuse to play into the tactics of these monsters. This warfare on his heart.
Maybe a few years ago I would have played it safe, even if it broke both our hearts. But they picked the wrong woman to use as leverage, now.
Not this Kaycia.
I accepted Shane’s reality this past weekend. All the messy, guilt-ridden, broken parts. Just like he accepts mine. I won’t turn my back on him now. I’ll make sure I know how to protect myself. I won’t give them what they want or let him give them anything either.
“I’m ready,” I croak, my voice hoarse from the tears I couldn’t seem to stem. At first, they were from shock and fear, then sadness. But then they burned hot with my anger, cleansing me before leaving me empty and resolute.
Propping the broom against the wall, Shane dumps the overflowing dustpan in the trash before snagging his own backpack.
“I’ll text maintenance and let them know they need to repair this,” he says as we pull the broken door closed, even if there’s nothing for it to secure to anymore. Looking defeated, his head hangs as he adds, “I’m so sorry, Kaycia.”
“Stop apologizing!” I snap, stopping him with a tug on his arm. “ You didn’t fuck up my apartment. They did.”
“But your work?—”
“I’m pissed about what they damaged, but at least the major pieces are already at the gallery. Their security is good. Unless they want video footage to go to the police they can’t hurt it.”
“No, they won’t want that,” he agrees, jaw tight and eyes downcast. “They just want me.”
“Well, they can’t have you.” I possessively hold his face between my palms. My voice doesn’t waver when I force him to look into my eyes. “You’re mine , remember?”
The fire returns to his eyes when I say those words, gold glinting behind the misery as he straightens his spine. “I remember.”
“Have you told Raquel and Max what happened?”
“Yeah, Quel called me and said there weren’t any unusual scents at the shop, but they’re both on alert. This happened hours ago, probably when it was still dark. No one comes up to this floor but us. I don’t know if they were watching the apartment or what. I’m surprised no one reported the noise, but the second-floor neighbors leave early for work at the hospital, so maybe they’re on shift. I’ll take a different route out of town this time, just in case.”
He’s standing a few stairs down while I’m still on the landing, so our eyes are on the same level. Shane takes advantage of the proximity, pulling me close for a soft kiss. “Max said he can bring out whatever you need for work this week, just text him a list.”
“Thanks,” I answer, my chest squeezing with affection for the flirty falcon shifter. “I’ll figure out what I need once we’re back at the cabin. I’ll check in with the gallery and let Kelly know I’m a little out of pocket.”
“I think—” Shane sucks in a sharp breath mid-sentence as if he needs to fortify himself. “I think I need to call my parents. Something must have happened to cause things to suddenly escalate like this.”
“We can figure it all out once we get settled. Together.” With a sharp nod and a tense jaw, Shane agrees.
“Let’s go, baby girl,” he murmurs, gripping my hand while we hurry down the stairs to his waiting motorcycle.
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, still and silent as he takes several deep inhales and scans the surroundings. I assume everything is clear when he waves toward the bike, taking my bag and tucking it in one side case, then stows his in the other. We both pull our helmets on and mount up, my arms clinging to him. It was less than an hour ago that we were like this, riding a high from a weekend well spent wrapped around one another. Now, we return in a much more somber mood.
On our first trip to the remote cabin, we took a shorter, direct route. This time, Shane insists on the longer way in case anyone follows. We ride across one of the metal bridges over the river that hugs half of the sparkling city of steel and glass. Each thud of the wheels over the bridge supports jolts me and I fight to keep from squeezing Shane too tight. I’d looked forward to a break from riding earlier, my body already sore from the trip, but I ignore the ache now, clinging on. If Shane minds, he doesn’t show it, patting my hands once before resettling his on the handlebar. The little thrill of fear from our first ride has dissipated to a pleasant warmth in my chest, and I try to concentrate on the wind on my cheeks instead of the other emotions the day has brought. The unsettling welcome home ruined the glow of the weekend and it’s easier to think about the physical world as we race to the cabin.
Once we clear the city completely, the roads pass through suburbs, and then turn more rural. The pastoral calmness is soothing, and I turn my mind to the list of supplies I need to compile for Max, focusing on the things within my control until Shane finds out more about the situation from his family.
Stretching my arms over my head is heavenly when we finally reach the cabin. I can’t suppress a little groan of pleasure at the change in position. Our more circuitous route took about an hour longer than I expected, weaving through small towns and remote forests, and has my legs feeling like jelly. Happily, we didn’t see any suspicious vehicles following behind us on the remote roads. I breathe a sigh of relief when Shane confirms no new scents linger anywhere along the perimeter of the cabin.
Was it really just this morning that we left this same place in the rose-colored haze of a newly minted relationship?
Shane’s expression is guarded and tight. His jaw muscles tense and his lips flatten into a firm line bracketed with worry as he pulls out his cell phone with a heavy sigh. “I guess I need to get this over with. You can unpack inside, or go out by the pond. Whatever you want. Just stay where I can see or scent you, okay?”
His suggestion indicates he wants to call his family in private. I wrap my arms around him, kissing him deeply before ducking into the cabin to unpack and make some tea. I’m not sure what that conversation will reveal for us, or how it will impact Shane emotionally after everything that’s been building these past few weeks. I hope the call is less tense than the recent ones with my own family, but I recognize that the strain and distance is much greater for Shane. Upon reflection, I decide tea may not be strong enough.