Chapter 32 #2
The bitterness of pheromones cuts through the warm air filling the car. His hand rises to his split lip, touching it gingerly, and comes away with fresh blood on his fingertips.
“Emily will be worried,” I say, putting the car in drive.
At the mention of her name, Jared tries to straighten, wincing at the movement. “She’s busy with Auren.”
The statement hangs in the air between us, laden with implications.
Not sure how to respond, I say, “You’ll need to give me directions.”
“Take a left at the docks and head into town,” Jared’s words come thick through his swollen lip, his head staying upright with visible effort.
I navigate the car through the empty streets, wipers swishing back and forth, tires hissing on the wet pavement.
“What are you doing out at this time of night, anyway?” Jared asks after a while.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Not a lie, just not the whole truth. “Driving calms me.”
“Sounds like we both had a shitty night,” he murmurs, his head falling back on the headrest, eyes closing briefly.
Worry shoots through me that he might have a concussion. “Don’t fall asleep. You need to stay awake and give me directions.”
Jared groans, but lifts his head, staring out the windshield to reorient himself. “Take a right at the next light.”
On Maple Ridge Road, I turn onto a quiet residential lane. Cottage lights glow through the trees, warm squares of yellow cutting through the rain-soaked darkness.
“It’s on the right side of the road.” He gives me the house number.
I check each cottage we pass. “Almost there.”
Jared grunts in response, the sound halfway between acknowledgment and pain.
The cottage appears around the bend, nestled among trees and flower beds. Wildflowers droop under the weight of rain, their colors muted in the night. The yellow door gleams like a beacon, porch light spilling across the wooden steps.
As I pull into the driveway, a set of truck headlights comes toward us, and we both slam on our brakes.
For a heartbeat, we sit frozen, two vehicles facing each other in the rain, separated by ten feet of gravel and mud.
“Shit,” Jared mutters, straightening in his seat despite the pain it must cause. “She’s home.”
Emily’s door flies open, and she jumps down from the cab, her silver hair glowing between our headlights. She stalks toward us with long strides, her boots kicking up water with each step.
I kill the engine and step out to meet her. “Don’t worry, he’s okay. Just a little worse for wear.”
Emily reaches the passenger side in seconds and yanks open the door, worry written in every line of her posture. “What happened?”
Jared swings his legs out of the cab, his movements stiff. “Nothing. Just took a walk.”
Emily freezes, her face draining of color as the interior light illuminates his injuries. Her hand rises to her mouth as she stifles a horrified gasp.
“A walk?” The word emerges strangled as her fingers reach for him, hovering just above the bruise on his cheekbone before touching it with such gentleness that my chest aches at the sight. “Who did this to you?”
Jared tries to turn away from her inspection, but she catches his chin, tilting his face toward the light. “Who?”
“Some guys,” he answers, the words clipped. “Saw the video. Wanted to film a sequel.”
The tenderness in Emily’s touch transforms to fury in the set of her jaw and the way her fingers flex. “Oh my god, Jared, why aren’t you at the hospital right now?”
“Figured we didn’t both need to pay it a visit tonight,” Jared snaps, and the split in his lip opens again, fresh blood welling.
Emily flinches, but she doesn’t back away as her hand falls to grip his elbow, steadying him as he struggles to his feet.
Her attention shifts to me, as if she’s truly noticing me for the first time.
Questions spark in her eyes, asking how I found him, why I’m here, and what I witnessed, but she speaks none of them aloud.
“Get inside,” she orders Jared, her voice softening despite the command. “Now.”
Jared doesn’t argue, which speaks volumes about how much pain he must be in. He takes a step toward the cottage, then pauses, turning back to me. “Thanks.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
Emily watches Jared limp toward the porch before turning back to me. “Want to come inside and dry off? Have some coffee, or something stronger?”
My heart stutters at the invitation, at the thought of warm, dry clothes and the scent of crushed clover and warm flannel pheromones that will permeate her home.
But I shake my head. “It’s late. Just wanted to make sure he got home safe.”
Emily nods. “Thank you for bringing him back to me.”
To me. Not home, but to me.
The distinction rattles around in all the hollow spaces inside me. I want that feeling of belonging, but can’t overcome my fear to trust my instincts or other people’s motivation.
“Any time,” I respond, the words nowhere near enough. I step back toward my car. “Take care of him.”
“I will.” She backs away, keeping me in her sight until she reaches the porch steps.
Only then does she turn, climbing to where Jared waits by the door, his tall frame stooped with pain.
I slide back behind the wheel of my car, and through the windshield, I watch as Emily unlocks the cottage door, her arm wrapping around Jared’s waist to support him as they step inside together.
Light spills out for a brief moment, illuminating them before the door shuts.
As I drive back toward my empty hotel room, I regret not staying for that coffee, or something stronger.