18. Quinn
Chapter 18
Quinn
I love these men. But right now, they’re on my shit list.
My plane ended up being late, and I almost missed my connecting flight. With barely a two-minute conversation with Dane to assure me they were alive and fine, I had to haul ass to make my next flight. And when I finally get to them, they pull this stoic-alpha silence bullshit? Not to mention the fact that my Prime has a busted face.
What happened in the last twelve hours?
I gave them the airport. It wasn’t the time, and I needed hugs more than answers. It’s been more than thirty minutes of silence into this two-hour drive. I’m done.
“Pull over,” I demand.
Dane ignores my death stare, and Nash is in some kind of zombie stupor he’s been frozen in since he climbed into the backseat. Both their bonds are giving me heartburn with a heavy dose of whiplash.
“Now, Dane.”
He sighs and merges into the highway's right lane before pulling onto the shoulder. I twist in the passenger seat, eyeing my alphas. We’ve been a pack going on ten years now. This isn’t how we are, ever.
“Somebody start talking,” I say, eyeing them.
Dane looks out the window, his arms supported on the steering wheel while Nash sits unmoving. The tension is so thick I want to shout, but I wait.
“We met our neighbor this morning,” Dane says quietly, the words not matching the reverence with which he says them.
Nash lets out a sarcastic laugh from the back. “That’s one way of saying it.” He looks me in the eye, and the depth of the confusion and pain there shorts my breath. “The girl I told you about? Rosie? She lives next door. She’s also our scent-matched mate, mine and Dane’s, but she ran away, freaked out at seeing us.”
My eyes dart to Dane and back to Nash, my mind tumbling and twisting with all the repercussions of his words. Nash blames himself for that night, citing the fact that he didn’t follow his instincts. Personally, I think the whole situation was too close to his raw nerves about his mother’s death to ever think straight about anything that happened that night. I mean, he was only nine when she overdosed, and he was the one who found her in bed the next morning. It was obviously not his fault, but I know he blames himself for not saving her. Finding out Rosie is his mate… The dark cloud hovering inside our bond makes more sense.
And Rosie, gods… Has she been alone? Did she know they were mates? Does she have a pack? I don’t know which option sucks worse.
Nash doesn’t talk very often about growing up here. Once, he told me about Rosie and that awful night. I asked him what happened after, but he told me she refused every time he tried to see her.
After hearing all the shit that happened, I don’t think I can blame her for ghosting him. I would have demanded to move and changed my name.
He never spoke about her again, not directly, but it was clear Rosie deeply mattered to him. I learned to recognize when she was on his mind, even though he never said so. I was worried about what dredging up all Nash’s ghosts might mean for our pack, but I never put it together that she was his scent match. For that, I feel stupid. Like, hello, of course Rosie is his mate . His turmoil about her isn’t just wrapped up in their shared trauma. I bet on some level his soul recognized hers …
Dane huffs. “She’s ours, Nash. We can’t just walk away. We didn’t know then, and there is no changing that. But we can show her now.”
The scoffing sound Nash makes cracks something inside me it’s so defeated. “She doesn’t want us here, man. The least we can do is give her peace.” He throws the door open and jumps onto the shoulder, pacing by the truck in the grass.
Dane is no better. His head falls to the steering wheel as he curses.
“What exactly happened?” I ask.
My alpha sits up and turns to me. “She came over to curse me out for using power tools so early in the morning.”
“I like her already.”
My teasing is a slap-dash bandage that makes him smile. “She’s full of life. Beautiful. And she smells so good. I bet you’re gonna like her sass.” The grin morphs into a wince as Dane nervously taps the steering wheel. “I got carried away by instincts and tried to make a move, and she wasn’t having it. She wants nothing to do with me. That’s when she saw Nash and hauled ass.”
I gawk, a little surprised at my alpha’s sheepish expression. Dane is cocky. It’s usually deserved, and his confidence is addictive, especially when he shows me exactly how good he is. So, seeing Dane out of sorts over being rebuked is a mindfuck. He doesn’t really do rattled.
I’m sort of in awe of this woman. That’s unfortunate because I want to be offended that she won’t give my pack a chance. Either way, Rosie is a mystery I want to solve.
“But no one talked to her about being matched? Or about the past?” I ask, trying to make sure I understand.
“She didn’t exactly stick around to chat,” he admits.
I puzzle that over as I climb down to join Nash. He stops pacing to look at me, and I open my arms. “Come here.”
Nash is big, but it doesn’t matter that he’s the one picking me up; I hold him.
I don’t know how long we stand there in the field by the side of the road, my purr humming, but eventually Dane joins our makeshift cuddle.
“I lost my shit, and I’m sorry. I don’t know the right thing to do,” Nash mumbles. He untangles himself from the hug and sets me down, wincing as he eyes Dane’s face.
Dane rolls his eyes. “I’ve gotten worse on the field during practice. I’m fine.”
I glare at the two of them. They’re former football players. They wrestle over the remote and race each other to see who gets to drive. Everything is a contact sport and a competition. But I draw the line at serious scuffles.
“It’s not fucking fine. Don’t you ever do that shit again,” I say, my omega lacing my words as hard as any alpha bark. “And no more silence. I don’t know what this means or where we go from here, but we’re pack. We’re on the same side.”
Dane’s lips twitch. “Yes, sir.”
“Damn right you answer to me.” I smack his ass.
Nash gives his first almost-smile of the night. My big grumbly grump wraps Dane into a bro hug, and the two of them speak softly to one another for a moment before he turns to me.
“I missed you,” Nash says, stepping closer. “And I’m sorry you had to deal with my disconnect today. I know that isn’t fair to you, and I’m working on keeping it together.”
My hands go to his beard, and I scratch that spot I know he likes under his jaw before I rub my cheek against his to scent mark him. “Don’t shut me out. We’re a team.”
He pulls back, his eyes searching mine. His gaze is full of questions, but I don’t have any answers. We’ve always been open to having a bigger pack, and I’ve got my own questions about Raven.
No matter what though, Rosie is his mate—Dane’s too. That changes things, whether she chooses us or not. These men aren’t only mine, and whatever happens next is connected to our future. I don’t know what tomorrow holds or how we make all these pieces fit together, but maybe this is where we need to be… even if it might hurt. How can we ever move forward if we don’t face this part of their past?
I cup his jaw. “She’s pack if she wants to be, and I’ll make an excellent wingman.”
Nash gives me a devastating smile that makes my belly swoop even after all this time. He thinks he’s too much, but underneath all his prickly outsides, I’ve never seen a more marshmallow center. When his lips brush mine, the kiss is steady. No matter what happens, we can make it if we rely on one another. Of that, at least, I’m sure.