Chapter 91
Chapter Ninety-One
THREE DAYS LATER
~Harlow~
I speak with my mates daily. All except Thane, and I refuse to speak about him.
They appear to accept that. Besides the day he had that panic attack, for whatever reason, I haven’t spoken to him.
Although, he has tried to speak to me. I ignore his messages, not ready to delve into the arguments I am sure will come from that.
It helps with the loneliness of being in this guest house by myself, however, this place still doesn’t feel like home, and I know it never will. No matter how much I try to settle in here, the longer I stay, the more unsettled I become.
I hear the phone I recently bought start ringing. I get up from the small sofa I am reading on. Walking over to it, I notice it is a private number.
Pressing answer, I put the phone to my ear, only to see movement out the small window in the kitchen. Jake is walking down the hedge-lined path that leads from the mansion toward the guest house.
“Hello?” I murmur into the phone, turning toward the door to unlock it for Jake. I flick the lock on the screen door and push it open for him. Thane’s voice on the other end of the line makes me jump.
“I didn’t think you would answer,” he says, and I immediately hang up, heart racing in my chest at the sound of his voice. The phone immediately starts ringing again as Jake steps into the small kitchen.
“Hey, Jake,” I tell him, glancing at the phone screen. He seems nervous as he scratches the back of his neck. I wonder if my staying at the guest house is still making Zara antsy.
“I need to head into town, and I need to take my mates with me in case things get messy. Can you sit with Zara until we get back?” he asks, and I smile.
I was about to head up there to see her anyway.
I am excited to finally be able to spend time with her, just us.
She is never alone. She always has one of her mates with her, and the realization that none of them will be staying behind for her suddenly worries me.
“Is everything alright?” I ask him.
“It will be. I’ll sort it out,” he tells me, not offering anything more than that.
“Okay, I will just grab my charger. My phone is nearly dead,” I tell him, and he nods, waiting by the door for me.
I follow him along the path back to the main house.
Upon entering, I find Zara’s mates in loose fitting clothes, as if they are expecting to shift.
That makes me even more nervous. Mainly because I know whatever is going on must be serious if all of them are going.
Zara is asleep on the couch, completely unaware of what is going on.
Yet the moment I enter the room, she picks up on my scent and her eyes fly open.
She smiles sleepily. “Sis, you came up?” she says, yawning before rubbing her eyes. When she opens them, she stares at her mates, who are getting ready to leave.
“Where are all of you going?” she asks them. Her eyes suddenly glaze over, and I know she is mind-linking one or all of them. Sam hands Mason to me, who is eating a toffee apple.
“Aunty Haha,” he squeals, and I kiss his sticky cheek.
My name is too much of a mouthful for him, so I am now called Aunty Haha.
I find his nickname adorable. He offers me some of his toffee apple, and I take a bite of the sticky goodness, making exaggerated chomping noises.
I make my way over to Zara, whose eyes flick to me nervously.
After everyone leaves, Zara puts on Mason's favorite movie. I tell her I will make popcorn after he keeps complaining that he needs it. Zara’s feet are ridiculously swollen, and she looks like she is in pain.
Ligament pain from her huge belly is making her uncomfortable and even the prenatal belly belt isn’t offering her much relief.
Walking into the kitchen, I put the popcorn in the microwave and wait, listening to the popping noises as the paper bag expands.
I am only gone for a few minutes when I hear Zara’s blood curdling scream as she shouts out for Mason.
The sound makes my heart lurch in my chest, as I race out to find that Zara is no longer in the living room.
“Zara?” I scream out, looking for her while rushing through the place, only to find her at the back of the house. She is in a full-blown panic attack standing by the glass sliding doors that lead onto the patio, trying to breathe and scream out for her son.
“Zara?” I stutter, but she can’t even speak, just keeps pointing out the door as she tries to breathe. I peer out to find that Mason has walked out back to his small sandbox, completely oblivious to his mother freaking out behind him.
“It’s fine, I will get him,” I tell her, stepping out and wandering over to him. I pick him up, and he giggles. I nearly throw my back when he starts kicking out his legs.
“He’s fine, Zara, see. Perfectly fine,” I tell her as she clutches her chest. Her breathing slows as she peers warily out the door, one hand clutching her belly. She is as pale as a ghost. Her eyes glaze over and I know one of her mates must be mind-linking her after feeling her terror.
Mason continues to kick, wanting to go back to his sandbox, and I set him down.
Zara whimpers, making my eyes dart to her.
I know she is afraid to leave the house, I just didn’t think it was this extreme.
What if no one was here, and the house caught on fire or Mason escaped her?
It worries me how bad her mental health is.
It is heartbreaking to see and sad to know she never leaves this place.
“I’m right here,” I tell her before grabbing one of the patio chairs and placing it inside the door. “Sit. I won't let anything happen to him,” I tell her, wanting her to sit down. Picking up Mason is one thing, I don’t think I would have enough strength to lift her if she fainted.
I sit out back, watching Mason, and Zara sits just inside the door watching us. “You never come outside?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“Why?” I ask her, but I don’t think even she truly knows what scares her. Her hands smooth over her giant belly, and she looks at her son guiltily.
“I... I can’t,” is all she says.
“What about the patio?” I ask her, and she shakes her head, looking like she may run at the mere thought.
“Do you miss it?”
“It’s not safe,” she says, and I look at her son, who for the past half an hour has been trying to get her to come look at his sandcastle.
“What if I hold your hand?” I ask her. Still she refuses.
“Mommy,” Mason calls pointing at his castle. Zara cranes her neck to look, but he is too far for her to see.
“Pass me your phone. I will take a photo,” I tell her, and she stands to retrieve it from her back pocket. As she hands the phone to me, I grip her hands and hold her there. Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.
“Harlow, I can’t,” she rushes out. Still, I don’t let her hands go.
“Yes, you can,” I tell her, but she is still stuck in her own head. Mason calls for her, excited to see his mother standing by the door.
“Just a few seconds,” I tell her. She closes her eyes and shakes her head, her fingers digging into my wrists.
“Do you trust me?” I ask her.
“Always,” she whispers.
“Then keep your eyes closed,” I tell her, and I see her swallow.
“Remember when we went to the theme park?” I ask her, and her lips tug up at the corners.
“Yes, Mom didn’t want to get on the rollercoaster,” she laughs, and I take a step back. Her lips part, but her feet slide across and over the small lip of the door frame.
“But we couldn’t get on it without an adult,” I chuckle. “And Dad refused. He was more chicken than she was. He wouldn’t let go of the railing when she tried to force him to go with us.” She laughs, and I take another step.
“I still remember his squeal when Mom tried to pry his fingers off the railing,” Zara laughs. I glance over my shoulder at Mason.
“So Mom went, and she screamed the entire way,” I laugh, remembering her ear piercing screams between us, and her death grip on our hands to the point that I thought my fingers would never work again.
The way she prayed to some god about not dying and confessing her love for him, if only he would let her survive.
“She threw up on Dad when she got off. She was so green, and Dad had to walk around with no shirt on for the rest of the day,” Zara laughs. “Dad was so sunburned.”
I chuckle, remembering that day as if it were yesterday—a day not long before we lost them.
“Yeah, then she got back on it again with us at the end of the day,” I tell her, and she smiles.
“I miss them,” Zara says. I nod my head and give her hands a squeeze as we inch closer to the sandbox.
“Do you ever wonder why we survived and they didn’t?” she asks.
“Every day,” I whisper, and she nods.
“Me too.”
“They would have loved Mason,” I tell her.
“And Little Low,” Zara says. She shudders as the breeze rushes over her skin and she tenses. We are still a few yards away, but she is outside. “I can’t, Harlow.”
“You are already here,” I tell her, and her eyes pop open, darting to mine. “And just look at how excited Mason is,” I tell her. Her lip quivers as her eyes dart past me to her son.
Mason moves closer before rushing toward her and grasping her legs.
I let her go as she brushes her fingers through his hair.
I retrieve the chair from inside the door and bring it over.
She may not move any further from where she is, but this is something.
She left the house. No matter how small a step that is, she at least took it.
I wait with Zara until Sam returns home.
The shock on his face when he sees her sitting on the back patio watching Mason makes me giggle.
He looks stunned before shaking himself.
He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, for which I am glad, instead coming over to peck her cheek.
I get up from my seat, offering it to him, before retrieving my phone from inside.
I need to lie down and don’t feel like being a third wheel.
Walking back down the pathway to the guest house, I am excited to sit down. The moment I enter, I instantly fall onto the couch, only to groan as my phone starts ringing. I pull it from my back pocket, seeing the private number cut across the screen, just as the door opens and Jake steps inside.
“I’m sorry, Harlow, I couldn’t stop him from passing the border. I did ask him to wait, and Raidon came with him.”
My stomach sinks as the phone continues to vibrate in my hand. I sit up.
“Pardon?” I ask. Jake sighs and glances back at the front door.
“Thane is here. It’s why we went into the city. I thought you had been talking with your mates? He says otherwise,” he asks, and I swallow guiltily.
“I have. I’ve just been ignoring Thane,” I admit, breathing out. The phone rings again. Holding it up, I glance at it before pressing my lips in a line and answering it.
“Please, don’t hang up,” Thane’s voice says on the other end.
“You need to leave, Thane,” I tell him. Hurt pangs through the bond, but fuck him. He hurt me too, and I am not going to feel bad for not wanting to see him.
Jake points toward the main house, and I nod, knowing he just came down here to warn me.
“Harlow, I am not leaving. I did not drive all this way only to leave without seeing you,” Thane tells me. I stare at Jake, who is waiting for me to tell him to leave. “Just pull over. She’s gone silent,” I hear Thane tell Raidon. I growl, annoyed.
“I’m in the guest house out back,” I tell Thane, hanging up on him.
“Wait,” I call out to Jake. He stops and looks at me. “You’re not going to make me go back with him, are you?”
“No, of course not. Say the word, Harlow, and I will get the council here. Worst case scenario, we have tranquilizers to sedate him, and Raidon will take him back home. You aren’t alone here.
Sam is already on the roof with his gun ready.
Thane knows all this, so scream and he will find a dart in his ass.
Sam won’t miss. That I can assure you,” Jake tells me.
I follow Jake to the door where he points to the roof of the main house, and I find Sam up top. He waves to me, and I nod once to him, only to see Zara’s other mates wandering around this side of the property, which they usually don’t do.
“Fine,” I breathe. I feel a little safer, knowing they are loitering.
And it will be good to see Raidon. Walking back inside, I grab my jacket.
Since the sun started going down, the temperature has dropped significantly.
A shudder runs up my spine as I hear their car pull around to the side of the guest house.
Fear courses through me, wondering if Thane will come barging in and drag me out, kicking and screaming.
Yet Thane doesn’t even enter. Raidon is the one to open the door, making me spin to face him.
All fear leaves as his scent wafts to me.
My bond tugs painfully at his presence, and my feet move of their own accord as my body smashes into his.
“Ah, I missed you,” Raidon growls as he grabs me.
My legs lock around his waist, and my nose buries in his neck, devouring his scent—a scent that I find intoxicating and soothing.
His fingers tangle in my hair as he kisses the side of my face, yet I can feel the tension in him, that underlying worry he feels for Thane.
Raidon chuckles, his hands caressing up the sides of my bulging stomach.
“You look good. Better,” he murmurs, and I realize I’m crushing my bump against him. I drop my legs to stand. Embarrassment floods me at how I threw myself at him.
“Rhen and Leon?” I ask.
“At home, this was kind of a spontaneous idea. One minute I was driving to work with Thane, when he suddenly pulls onto the highway, saying he wants to see you,” he tells me, scratching the back of his neck.
“I know you don’t want to see him, but he won’t hurt you. Jake’s mates will shoot him the moment he moves; Thane agreed to those conditions.”
“I’m not going back,” I tell him, and Raidon purses his lips before he sighs.
“Just hear him out.”
“I have done nothing but listen and hear him out. It’s me he doesn’t hear, Raidon,” I tell him, stepping away from him.
“He’ll listen this time.”
I shake my head. “He isn't the only one that didn’t listen to me. None of you did.”
“We didn’t keep you prisoner though,” Raidon says.
“But not one of you stopped him from doing it either,” I snap at him.
“Just—he won’t leave, Harlow. I am not asking you to forgive him, but he won’t leave unless you go out there. He’ll damn well camp outside your door.”
“Then tell him to pitch a fucking tent and happy camping,” I tell Raidon, turning back to the kitchen.
“I’m not really the camping type,” Thane says, making me spin around. So does Raidon, to find Thane standing inside the door with his hands in pockets.