32. Aleks
Aleks
Waking up in the golden light of dawn, looking down at Cash’s face in the early morning sun, was one of those perfect moments in life where suddenly everything made sense.
His skin was too pale, almost sallow, but somehow, even with all he’d been through, he was the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid my eyes on.
Dark lashes swept down onto ever so slightly freckled cheeks, and his unruly curls were disarrayed all over the pillow.
I wanted nothing more than to comb them for him.
Just . . . to take care of him in general.
Wrap him tight in the blanket and feed him soup and wait on him until he felt well enough to go on.
Because Cash was my pack. Like Mama and my brothers were my pack. His caring father, his wild and clever cousin, and I supposed, even his useless lump of an uncle. Tommy was better than my own uncle, so I couldn’t complain about that too terribly much.
Years under my father and then uncle had broken something fundamental in the Wildwood pack.
Not just their spirit, but their sense of what made a pack.
Grant and his goons ruled with an iron fist, and the people had started to think that was simply how things were.
How they were supposed to be. That a strong alpha was a violent one, who took what he wanted and gave nothing in return.
I didn’t want to be Ajax Fyse, but all he seemed to do with his own packmates was give. He didn’t just fight for them, he also provided. Cared. Offered kindness and protection.
Perhaps there was something to find in between his unchecked constant care, and Grant’s unforgiving grasp on all he could get.
Cash’s perfect leafy green eyes were just blinking open at me when there was a banging on the bedroom door. I rolled my eyes and slid myself out of bed, pulling on my jeans and zipping them, but not bothering with a shirt.
I opened the door to find Fyse there, and gave him my best asshole grin. “Yes?”
He was not impressed. He crossed his arms and glared at me, tapping a toe impatiently. “I need to go to work.”
“So?” I asked. I wanted to tell him he could drive himself and didn’t need my help, but that might be a step too far. Even someone as soft as him would be violent if pushed. Probably.
“I’m not leaving you in my house while I go to work,” he told me, gritting his teeth between words. “You’ve got to go.”
I could smell Cash’s growing stress behind me, so I decided not to push too much harder. Oddly, even as I turned to glance back at Cash, I could smell Fyse’s self-doubt.
Self-doubt. On an alpha. How odd.
I turned back to him, and he was looking at Cash with concern on his face.
Like maybe he was going to back down and let me stay because Cash clearly wanted that.
While it would have been fine with me, I didn’t actually want to overstay my welcome, and also, needed to get back to the house.
To Viktor and Grant and what was yet to come.
“Fine,” I said, trying to sound as arrogant and haughty as possible. I had years of experience as a teenager and member of Grant’s pack to draw from, and I thought I did well at it. I turned and grabbed my shirt, tugging it on over my head as I slip my feet into my shoes.
From his spot on the bed, Cash’s voice was soft, and so fucking heartbreaking. “Do you want me to come with you?”
I didn’t even think, didn’t let a second pass between the question and my answer. “No.”
“Absolutely not,” Jax insisted behind me, and I rolled my eyes at Cash before turning to glare at him. He was not the boss of Cash, nor was he Cash’s father. He could keep his nose out of our business.
I turned my back on Fyse, heading over to Cash and leaning down, kissing the side of his face. “I will see you soon.”
I tried to stress that word: soon.
I wasn’t going to let this fester. Wasn’t going to allow Grant to continue in his position for the next decade, tormenting the pack and Cash especially. No, by the time Cash rejoined us, Grant would be dead, no matter whose hand that death had to happen at.
“Wait,” Cash said, grabbing at me and almost missing. Once he got his fingers around my wrist, though, they locked tight. He wasn’t letting me leave before saying what he needed to say. “Can I have your phone? I, uh, got a burner.”
Damn, I should have thought of that first. Should have brought him a phone, in fact, to make sure he would have one.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to him, letting him put his number in.
Somewhere else in the room, I heard the faint buzz when he texted himself with it, so that he had the number as well.
He gave me that sweet, shy smile of his as he handed the phone back. “There.”
“I’ll call,” I vowed as I took the phone from him. I wanted to lean in and kiss him again, but I suspected Fyse would have something to say about that, and I didn’t want to feel the need to fight with him any more than necessary.
Cash blushed and glanced down at where his fingers were picking at a stray thread on the blanket. “Okay. Good. Just . . . be safe.”
Without another word, I left Cash’s room, and slipped out the front door of Fyse’s home, into the warm San Francisco morning.
I had things to do. Leo to call, to make sure that things were going well with him and Evie.
I had to discuss the plan with Mama, because it was perhaps time for her to go as well.
So that Viktor and I could do what needed done.