18. Ash #3
Callum looks conflicted. I don’t realise why until his phone pings with a text. He reads it and I’m pretty sure he growls. “I can’t follow you home,” he tells Morgan. “Lynx is sending backup.”
“What for?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His eyes widen. “Because the shifter you hit was Jason Birch.”
Oh fuck.
“I’m gonna wait for Jet and Beth, and then we’re going to track him.”
“And if you can’t find him? I hit him with my car. He’s not going to forget that, is he?” I didn’t think this day could get any worse, and yet here we are.
“We’ll still be watching, Ash. Even if he wanted to—and I’m not convinced he does—he won’t get near you.”
I want to believe him, but I’m pretty sure there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight, or any night soon. “Okay.”
Callum watches me, hands curled into fists at his sides like he’s stopping himself from reaching out for me.
Part of me wants to step forward into his arms and take the comfort he so desperately wants to give me.
But then I remember everything he kept from me, and I take a step back.
“Did you kill a deer?” I ask, suddenly remembering what Wilson said.
I’m really hoping the answer’s no. I don’t want an innocent animal killed because of me.
Deep brown eyes meet mine, hiding nothing. “There’s a dead deer in the forest, but I didn’t kill it. Birch did.” He winces. “I did make it look more like a traffic accident and less like a wolf attack though.”
I try not to think about what that entailed.
My car engine roars to life and I glance over to see Morgan behind the wheel. I never noticed him move.
“Come on,” he calls. “If I take it steady, we should make it back to yours.”
“Go,” Callum whispers, then turns and heads to where his bike sits at the edge of the trees. Didn’t see him do that either.
He keeps his back to me, giving me the space I asked for.
“Ash,” Morgan yells again.
I look back down the road. “What about our backup?” With Birch on the loose out there, I’m not so sure I want my biker bodyguards to stay out of sight any longer.
Morgan tilts his head, listening. “Almost here.”
Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.
I shudder but shuffle over to my damaged car, dragging my feet. “I’m still not okay with all this.”
He gives me a sad smile. “I know. But you can’t drive, so please let me take you home.”
“Okay.”
I make the mistake of looking for Callum as Morgan pulls out onto the road. He’s watching us, and even from this distance, it’s easy to see his hurt expression. The resigned slump of his shoulders as he’s forced to accept there’s nothing he can say or do to change my mind.
I’m pissed off, scared, and angry.
And I need space to process all that.
But that doesn’t mean I enjoy hurting him. Or that a part of me doesn’t ache to beg Morgan to turn this car around and go back.
I can’t, though.
Not with the betrayal so fresh and raw.
What’s worse is I can’t even talk to the person I’d usually confide in, the one I trusted above all others, and that hurts almost as much.
An awkward silence settles in the car.
I rest my head against the window and stare out at the trees rushing by.
Morgan sighs, and I know he’s about to try and talk to me. I’m tempted to cut him off before he starts, but I’m too tired, too defeated to bother.
“He wanted to tell you,” he says quietly. “Callum,” he adds, like I needed clarification. I snort, but even that comes out bitter. “I wanted him to wait. Wanted it to be me you heard it from.”
That gets my attention. “Why?”
Morgan grimaces. “Because I’m a selfish, jealous arsehole.”
“I don’t understand.” But I think I’m getting there.
“You’re my best friend, Ash. Or at least you were,” he adds quietly.
“I wanted to be the one to tell you, to show you. I was the only one who wouldn’t terrify you.
” He takes a breath. “But when your nan died, I couldn’t tell you, and then Callum started hanging around.
” He glances at me, apology in his eyes.
I don’t realise why until he says, “And he’d come back in the morning smelling of you . . . and sex.”
I stare at him, horrified. “Oh god.” I palm my face, heat rushing to my cheeks.
“Sorry.” He huffs out a soft laugh. “There aren’t many secrets between shifters.”
“No, you save all those for me.”
“Yeah.” He winces, not bothering to make excuses, which I appreciate. “Then he wanted to tell you, like he had more of a right to do it than me—”
He looks over at me when I scoff.
“I know how that sounds, believe me. But I’m new to all this.” He gestures to himself. “We don’t just get heightened senses and strength. We get heightened emotions too. And to begin with, it’s hard to get a handle on them.”
The car pulls to a stop, and I realise with a jolt that we’re at my house.
“I let my jealousy get the better of me. It made me selfish when I should’ve been thinking what was best for you.” He leans his head back against the seat and lets out a long breath. “I’m really fucking sorry, Ash.”
I want to say it’s okay. The words are on the tip of my tongue because I can hear, can feel that he means every word, but I’m not there yet. “I know,” I say instead.
He nods once and lets it go.
“Want me to come in?”
“No.” His face falls, and I hate that I feel guilty.
“Are you scared of me?” He asks it so quietly, I strain to hear.
“No.” I don’t have to think about it, it’s my gut reaction. “Maybe I should be, and maybe it’ll hit me later, but I’m not. Pissed off, hurt, angry? Yes, all of those things, but never scared, Mor.”
He blinks rapidly, eyes suspiciously wet, and the ragged breath he draws in tells me how much that meant to him. “We gonna be okay?”
“I hope so.” It’s as much as I want to offer. I reach over and grab his hand. “I just . . . I need time.”
“Okay.” He taps the steering wheel, then looks over at me. “And Callum?”
The ache snaps back into place and I rub at my chest, but nothing soothes it. “I don’t know.”
I open the door, then pause, looking around. “No bodyguards?”
“They’re here. You just can’t see them.” Again, like I’d asked. Can’t say I’m not relieved that they’re here though. “About that.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “In light of everything, I think I’d like to take that request back.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
As soon as the word leaves my mouth, two bikers I don’t recognise materialise from seemingly nowhere. Despite the realisation that they heard me, the relief is instant. I’m about to go inside when I remember something. “You never told me about Wilson.”
“Fuck.” Morgan grimaces. “You can’t trust him or Stokes. They were there when my dad was tortured into signing our house away.”
I stare at him, open-mouthed, as I struggle to make that make sense. “What?”
“They were both there and they did nothing. They were in on it.”
“Jesus Christ.” All my interactions with Wilson take on a whole new meaning. “Should I be worried?” I am anyway, regardless of what he says.
Morgan sighs. “Maybe just be careful around them. But don’t let on that you know.” He curses under his breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”
Fuck that. “No. We’re done with secrets.”
He nods. “Okay, but be careful around those two. I don’t know how far they’re prepared to go to keep their secret. They got here really fucking fast tonight when you hit Birch.”
Fuck, they did. “How did they know?” I didn’t call 999, and no one else was around.
“I’m guessing someone was watching in the forest and tipped them off. Maybe FBs. I don’t know for sure.”
Great.
Yet another thing to stress over.
“You should go in,” he says, nodding at my house. “Get some rest.”
I’m about to say I don’t need to fucking rest, but then I yawn wide enough to make my jaw crack. “Fine.” I take a couple of steps towards the door, then turn back when Morgan doesn’t move. “You staying out here?”
Morgan shakes his head. “Only till you’re safely inside, then I need to get back.”
“How?” As I ask, I hear the rumble of another bike coming down the road. Morgan’s smile tells me who it is. “Right. I’m gonna go.”
“Please keep in touch.”
“Okay.” I turn and hurry inside before Lynx comes to a stop. I might not be scared of Morgan, but my fear of Lynx is still alive and kicking.
Even more so now.