Chapter Eleven
Vinnie rubbed a towel over her damp hair and stifled a yawn.
More than anything she wanted to fall into bed, but that would have to wait until she checked on Adam.
Cyrus had given up his bedroom for her. Adam was on a pull-out couch in the office across the hall.
Cyrus was bunking on one of the sectionals in the living room.
All her clothes were dirty, but she was decked out in a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants that bagged around the ankles and hung low on her hips, even though she’d pulled the drawstring tight.
The dark blue t-shirt could easily pass for a dress.
She looked ridiculous in the oversize garments, but being clean was more important than vanity.
There was an intimacy in wearing Cyrus’s clothing.
It was almost like a hug. Not nearly the same as having his actual arms around me.
The errant thought caught her by surprise.
She shrugged it off. It had been one hell of a week, taxing in every way possible.
It was only natural to wish there was someone to lean on.
It didn’t make her weak, it made her human.
She hung the used towels to dry, finger-combed her hair, and left the bathroom, steam billowing out behind her.
The single bedside lamp emitted a pale-yellow glow, lighting her way to the door.
She cracked it open and listened, finding only silence.
It was late and everyone had gone to bed.
She tiptoed across the hall and tapped lightly on the door. It was pulled open a second later.
Like her, Adam was decked out in clean sweatpants and a shirt, hair damp from his shower. There was knowledge in his eyes that hadn’t been there this morning. Her son was growing up fast. Life hadn’t given him a choice.
She scooted into the room and shut the door behind her.
The primary function of this room was an office.
A large desk with an elaborate computer setup with multiple monitors dominated the space.
Tall file cabinets and shelves filled one wall.
The pull-out couch had been made up with sheets, a comforter, and pillows.
“Do you have everything you need?” They had the contents of their knapsacks, minus their clothing, which were in the laundry room to be dealt with first thing in the morning.
He shrugged, walked over to the temporary bed, and sank down on the mattress. “I guess.” He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.
She sat beside him and took one of his hands. It was larger than hers. Time had passed so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday he’d been toddling around behind her. Now he was on the cusp of adulthood. “I know this is a lot to handle, but we’ll get through this together.”
“I’m a freaking werewolf.” Bitterness coated his laugh. “This isn’t like I failed a history test or borrowed the car without asking or something. Did you know what Cyrus was when you had sex with him?”
She didn’t flinch, having expected anger from him.
They’d talked about his father, but always in general terms. It wasn’t an easy topic, but he was entitled to answers.
“No. I was a rookie in the department. It was my first major vehicular accident.” The memory came easily to mind even after all these years.
She’d seen worse in the years since, but that had been the first. “I can still smell the gasoline, see the blood.” She shook her head to banish the grisly images.
“Anyway, I went to Griggs’s Tavern to have a drink when I got off duty. ”
She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Drinking wasn’t the smart way to deal with the trauma, but I needed to be around people, to get out of my head. I limited myself to a single beer.” She’d ordered the second but had barely touched it. “Then Cyrus walked in.”
“And you decided to go to a motel room with him.”
Biting back the warning not to use that snide tone with her, she shook her head.
“No. I noticed him, of course. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.
He had a single drink.” The rich color of the bourbon had caught the lights of the bar when he’d tilted it back to drink it.
“Then he left. I decided I should follow suit and go home. He was waiting by my truck.”
Adam tensed, his fingers curling into fists. “He didn’t, like, force you or anything, did he?”
“I’d have busted his balls if he’d tried.” That drew a genuine laugh and Adam’s shoulders relaxed, some of the tension leaving them.
“Yeah, you would.”
“Count on it. Long story short, we chatted, I followed him to his motel room, spent an hour with him, and left when he was in the bathroom. I’d never done anything that reckless before or since.”
Black eyes, familiar eyes, stared at her. His throat rippled when he swallowed. “You got pregnant.”
“I did.”
“Were you scared?”
The time had come for total honesty. “I was terrified, but I had your grandma.” Her mother had been a pillar of strength that Vinnie had leaned on. God, she wished her mom was here right now. Ina Grant would know what to say or do. Vinnie always felt as though she was floundering.
She hooked her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched. “Never, not for one second, did I ever consider not having you. You were mine. My son.” She tugged on his hair until he raised his head. “Don’t you ever forget that. You hear me?”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears, but there was relief there as well. “I hear you.”
His pain was hers. Adam was no longer a child but not quite a man. He’d suffered enough in his life for her choices. She’d thought the worst was behind them when the townspeople had accepted her as a single mother. Oh, there were some who judged, but most had let it go.
Then this had happened, which reminded her. “Don’t ever run away again. Promise me. Whatever you’re going through, whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
“When will we go home?”
That was the million-dollar question. “I’m not sure. We need to make sure you’re okay, that we understand everything that’s happening to you first. There’ll be a ton of questions to answer once we get home. Everyone in the sheriff’s department and a lot of townsfolk searched for you.”
“I’m sorry about that.” He got up and walked over to stand by the window, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants.
The resemblance between Adam and his father was marked.
Her son was already six feet tall and still growing.
Once he hit his max height and filled out, with his hair and eye color he looked exactly like Cyrus and his brothers.
She went over to join him, feeling much older than her thirty-six years.
“I get it, I do. I suppose I can’t complain too much.
” He turned away from the window and tilted his head in question.
“If you hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t have tried to hire a tracker, wouldn’t have found Cyrus.
There’s no telling what would have happened to you on your own.
” That scenario would give her nightmares.
“Guess you’re right.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and yawned.
“You need to get some rest.” The physical demands on his body had been huge. She’d worried there would be aftereffects, but Adam seemed hale and hearty, if tired.
“You, too, Mom.” He leaned down slightly so she could kiss his cheek, as she did every night.
“I’m across the hall if you need me. Are you sure you don’t want to bunk in there with me?”
He rolled his eyes, giving her a glimpse of normalcy. “Mom, I’m sixteen, not six.”
“I know how old you are. I was there when—”
“—when I was born,” he finished.
“Smartass.” Forcing a smile, she made herself walk to the door. “If you change your mind...”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will.” She caught a glimpse of his childhood stuffed bear sitting on the arm of the couch. It was a piece of home, a touchstone, a reminder of a simpler time. Satisfied she’d done all she could for now, she let herself out, leaned on the door, and closed her eyes.
“Is he settled?” Cyrus’s deep voice was a whisper away.
Her eyes flew open and she jerked upright.
Cyrus was right beside her. How a man his size had snuck up on her without making a sound she had no idea.
Barefoot and wearing only a pair of jeans, there was an acre of ripped muscles on display.
With his shaggy hair and full beard and intimidating aura, he’d be right at home with any biker gang.
She couldn’t stop staring at his chest. The waistband of his jeans dipped dangerously low, drawing her attention to the thin line of hair arrowing downward from his belly button.
“Vinnie?”
She had to be more tired than she’d thought if the sight of his rock-hard abs left her speechless. To give herself time to pull herself together, she glanced back at her son’s door. “I’m hoping he’ll sleep.”
“And you?” He crowded closer until their bodies were almost touching. She caught a whiff of woodsy soap and hot male flesh and barely suppressed a moan. “What are you hoping for?”
****
When he’d heard her leave the bedroom and go across the hall, it had taken every ounce of discipline he possessed not to go after her. Mother and son needed some uninterrupted time together. He’d tried to sleep and quickly realized that would be impossible until he’d spoken with her—alone.
“I’m hoping for about ten uninterrupted hours of sleep.” Her eyes were dilated, her nostrils flared—both signs of arousal—but she was going to ignore the attraction between them. “Good night.” It was a dismissal, plain and simple.
“We need to talk.” When she started to object, he canted his head toward Adam. “Alone.”
“Fine.” Spine stiff, she strode into his room and stood by the window. “Say what you have to say so we can both get some rest.”