Chapter 30
BLAIR
“Hello, Annette.”
She’s never been bold enough to come here.
I haven’t even seen her since before the funeral, but she stands in front of the door to the rescue, her dark sunglasses covering her eyes. Her wiry copper hair is fluffed up like she’s in a beauty pageant, and a sharp fuchsia lipstick stains her mouth and teeth.
“Oh, so you do work here,” she purrs. “I had heard from some people in town but wasn’t sure. Interesting. A cat rescue.” She looks at Travis. “Hello.”
Travis nods as Annette notices our clasped hands. “Oh, that’s nice. How are you doing?” she asks me sweetly.
But her tone is fake. It’s icy manipulation disguised as genuine interest.
“Fine,” I reply evenly. “Why are you here?”
She gives a mock gasp. “It’s Justin’s birthday,” she says, and my stomach churns. “Did you really forget?”
Travis stiffens beside me and squeezes my hand. I return the touch, hoping he doesn’t realize how panicked I am.
“Oh,” I reply dumbly.
She tsks her lips. “It’s good to see you moved on, though.” She smiles at Travis; her sharp canines covered in cheap lipstick. “I’m Annette. Justin’s mother. You know who that is, right? I’m sure she told you.”
Travis nods. “I do.” Then, he turns to me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.
In that moment, I know I have him in my corner.
If I said the word, he would whisk me away from this nightmare.
If I said the word, Annette would be removed from the premises.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him gently, then turn back to Annette, who watches me through her too-big sunglasses.
“He would have been twenty-eight today,” she sighs. “A mother never forgets.”
She smells of cheap perfume; powdery with a harsh vanilla note.
Justin had told me before that his mother had always regretted being a Beta and not an Omega, and she makes up for it by buying fragrances that supposedly mimic Omega pheromones.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say simply.
She sucks her teeth. “Well, I came here to make amends with you. You know, today should be about forgiveness. It’s what Justin would have wanted.
” She glances at Travis, then back at me.
“I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t invite you to his funeral, and that I convinced the other mothers you shouldn’t be at their sons’ funerals,” she says, her voice laced with emotion.
“You should have been there, even if it would have upset the others.”
My stomach sours and I grow still.
Anger and sorrow mix into a violent chaos in my chest, and I forget how to breathe.
Travis inhales sharply, his scent growing smoky.
“That’s enough,” he says, his voice low.
But Annette ignores him.
“And I forgive you, Blair. I forgive you for what you did.”
She might as well have shot me in the chest.
The pain ricochets through my body, and my knees threaten to give out.
Travis pulls me to him and wraps an arm around my waist as a low warning growl sounds from his throat.
“So, that’s where you get it from,” he says to me softly.
My tongue is heavy in my mouth. I can’t talk.
Annette just stands there, feigning goodness as her words cut me to my core.
“The only person that needs to be forgiven is you,” Travis spits, and Annette pushes her sunglasses up her head to look at him with rage.
“Me?” she scoffs. “Me?” Her grey eyes are full of fury, and the mask she normally wears has slipped.
“You,” he snarls. “For being so fucking heartless that you would make her believe that she’s responsible for your son’s death.”
I still can’t talk, but I stand a little straighter. Travis grips me tighter, and I inhale his smokiness, letting his aroma soothe my inner Omega.
Safe. I’m safe with him.
I’m understood.
I’m seen.
“She is good,” he continues. “A better person than you will ever be. Your son was lucky to have her in his life.”
My heartbeat slows, and I raise my chin to glare at Annette.
Take that, you bitch.
But Annette simply smirks like the villain she is. “I can’t believe you would say that to a grieving mother,” she huffs.
“I’m not saying it to a grieving mother. I’m saying it to a piece of shit that’s under the impression she’s a good person,” Travis continues. “All I see is a bitter, ugly old woman.”
Annette’s expression falls. “I’m not ugly,” she hisses.
“Inside and out,” I confirm, finally finding my voice. Her gaze turns to me, still furious, but I keep eye contact with her. “Annette, I miss Justin, too. I miss them all. But what happened that night—that was no one’s fault but the weather. It…it wasn’t mine,” I stammer. “It wasn’t my fault.”
It wasn’t mine.
Annette doesn’t believe me, though.
I can see it in her face.
She’s always going to blame me, and I can’t change that.
“Well, I forgive you, anyway,” she huffs.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I whisper. “Because I did nothing wrong.”
I don’t know how long I can believe it for.
But right now, it feels true enough to voice.
I’m not the reason Justin, Aaron, and Cody aren’t here.
Travis holds me tighter, and Annette chuckles bitterly.
“Sure, honey,” she says, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, just like her cheap perfume. “If that’s what you want to believe.”
Before I can retort, the front door swings open, and Piper sticks her head out. She glances to me quickly, then narrows her eyes at Annette. “Who are you? What’s going on?”
“This is Justin’s mom, Annette,” I tell Piper, and her jaw drops.
“Hello,” Annette says politely, but Piper is having none of it.
“You,” she snarls, stepping outside. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
My eyes widen at Piper’s outburst, and so do Annette’s.
“I was just—”
“Get out of here. Now.” Piper points to the parking lot. “If you’re not gone in five seconds, I’m calling the police. You’re not welcome here.”
Annette is as dumbfounded at Piper’s reaction as I am. “Excuse me?” she snaps.
“Now. You come back here, and we’re filing a restraining order. Don’t fuck with me. My mate is a lawyer.”
The door cracks open and Maeve pokes her head out. “Yeah! You’re making the cats upset. Get out of here, lady.”
I choke out a disbelieving laugh at Annette’s offended expression.
“And if I ever hear about you bothering her again,” Travis adds, his voice low and gritty, “the cops won’t even be able to help you. Do you understand?”
I don’t condone threats, but when Travis does it, it’s sexy as hell.
Annette looks between Travis, me, Piper, and Maeve, her eyes wide with fear. “Horrible people,” she mumbles, then hurries away, wrapping her black sweater around herself.
“Fucking bitch,” Piper snaps, while Maeve looks at me.
“Who the hell was that?” she asks. “We could smell that awful perfume from inside. The cats were losing their minds.
“The devil,” Piper says, her face stony. “You just witnessed the literal devil, Maeve.”
“Oh. Wow,” Maeve breathes.
We stay outside and watch Annette drive away, and once her car is out of view, the adrenaline fades. I let out a whoosh of air and my hands begin to shake.
“Hey, hey,” Travis says, and I turn to him. “Are you okay?” his brown eyes are laced with concern as he cradles my face.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I just wasn’t expecting to be welcomed back by her. That’s the first time I’ve seen her since Justin died.”
“And it will be the last time,” he vows.
“That threat was a bit much,” I admit, and he smirks.
“Yeah. I know people like her. She talks tough, but the minute she’s confronted and someone finally stands up to her, she’ll back down. She’s spooked enough to not bother you again.”
“Let’s get you inside,” Piper adds. “Maeve, get the kitten therapy ready.”
“Kitten therapy!” Maeve yells. “My favorite.”
“Kitten therapy?” Travis asks, raising an eyebrow.
I sigh. “You’ll see,” I tell him. “Just come inside.”
Kitten therapy consists of sitting in a chair while a handful of wriggly, friendly kittens are placed in a person’s lap.
It’s a new tradition Maeve started, and it’s possibly the best idea anyone has ever had.
“We got these three while you were gone,” Maeve announces, handing me three squirming calico kittens. “They’re cuddly and love to snuggle.”
Travis sits in the back room with me, his chair next to mine while the kittens mew and climb all over me. Tiny claws dig into my stomach and chest, and little snuffles fill my ears.
They’re absolutely adorable.
“Here, you take one,” I tell Travis, handing him the loudest, squirmiest one. “Everyone can benefit from kitten therapy.”
Travis tenderly holds the kitten, who immediately tries to chomp on his chin. He huffs out a laugh and smiles softly, stroking its furry head.
“You never told me about her,” he says after a few moments of kitten shenanigans. His voice is soft, but there’s a deadly edge to it.
“Annette? Yeah. She’s awful.”
“And she put those things in your head,” he continues. “The idea that it was all your fault.”
“I wouldn’t say she put it there, but she added fuel to the fire,” I admit. “The guilt was already there. She just confirmed my fears.”
“With lies,” he says sharply.
I bury my face in a pink kitten belly and inhale.
‘Huffing cats’ as Maeve calls it, is quite calming.
“I’m proud of you,” he adds softly. “For saying what you said to her.”
It wasn’t my fault.
It had felt true in that moment.
When I could finally see how absurd Annette was, surrounded by the people that cared about me, I started to believe she was wrong.
“She’s a hateful bitch,” is my only response as I pet the kittens. One has curled into a little shrimp shape and is falling asleep peacefully on my thigh. The other continues to dig its tiny claws into my sweatshirt, kneading on my stomach.
Travis nods in agreement.
“So, the sewing,” I add, trying to change the subject. “I can’t believe it was you the whole time. And you’re talented, too. You should have said something.”
He shrugs and gently strokes the kitten he holds. “I’m not sure how you would have felt if I told you all the blankets were from me, especially when we were still just friends.”