12. Gray
GRAY
I called Sheriff Wick while Bonnie held her brother.
She hadn’t let go of him since Darren and Cade drove off. Lawson had his face pressed against her shoulder, shaking so hard I could see it from where I stood. He looked like what he was—a scared kid whose world had just been turned upside down.
Sheriff Wick picked up on the second ring despite the hour.
“It’s Gray Barns. I’m down at the docks, near the commercial slips at the far end. There’s stolen equipment scattered on the dock and a fourteen-year-old kid who got pulled into something by men who should’ve known better.”
A pause. “I’m on my way.”
He arrived about thirty minutes later and took in the scene without saying much.
“Who wants to tell me what happened here?” he asked, stepping away from the open hatch of a fishing boat where equipment had been stripped out.
I stepped forward and gave him the basics. I said we’d found Lawson here with two other men stripping equipment from the boats. The men had loaded most of it into a truck and taken off when we confronted them. I left out everything that couldn’t be explained by normal means.
For obvious reasons.
“Son, you’re going to have to come with me down to the station,” Sheriff Wick said.
“Am I being arrested?” Lawson asked, sounding scared.
I didn’t blame him.
“He’s fourteen,” Bonnie said. “He’s a minor.”
“I’m aware.” Wick’s tone was firm but not unkind. “We’ll sort everything out at the station. You’ll need to come with him as his legal guardian.” He walked to his cruiser and opened the back door.
Bonnie gripped Lawson’s shoulder and locked eyes with him. “Go with him. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be right behind you.”
Lawson nodded and climbed into the backseat without arguing. The fight had gone out of him.
Guilt sat heavy in my chest. I’d called the Sheriff, and now Lawson was in the back of a police car. I knew it was the right thing to do, but knowing something is right doesn’t always make it feel that way.
Bonnie walked to my truck and climbed in the passenger seat.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I started the engine. “I didn’t think Wick would haul him in like that.”
“This isn’t your fault.” She looked at me. “Lawson is in that car because of his choices. Not yours.”
I didn’t argue with her. She was right, but she’d also been right when she reminded Wick that her brother was just a kid. I kept my eyes on the road and followed the cruiser’s taillights through the empty streets.
The police station was small and too bright. It smelled like stale coffee and musk. Lawson sat beside Bonnie in a plastic chair. His head was down, and his elbows were rested on his knees.
He looked like he might be sick.
When Sheriff Wick called them back into his office, Bonnie nodded for me to come too. I stayed near the door while they sat in the chairs facing his desk. I was close enough to be there, but far enough to give them space.
Bonnie told Wick everything. She named Darren and Cade, connected Darren to the Tidal Caverns pill operation, and even made it clear that her brother had been manipulated for months.
Wick’s expression sharpened at Darren’s name.
He knew just like anyone else that if there was trouble brewing, Darren’s name would be written all over it.
Lawson lifted his head. I expected him to argue with her rendition of how things had gone down now that he’d had time to process, but he didn’t.
“She’s right,” he said, his voice raw. “They told me it was just moving stuff. That it wasn’t anything bad. I didn’t believe them, not really.” He swallowed hard. “It was stupid, I know.”
He didn’t mention what Darren and Cade were. Neither did Bonnie.
“They used me,” Lawson said. “I get that now.”
Bonnie put her hand on his back, and I realized it was because he’d started crying. I felt bad for the kid. Hell, I felt bad for her.
That was when it hit me.
Something in my chest that I’d been circling for weeks stopped and landed.
I loved her.
Not the way my owl had chosen her, which was instant and certain and beyond my control.
This was different. This was mine. The human part of me catching up to what the animal had known all along.
I loved the way she showed up for her brother even when he made it impossible.
The way she didn’t quit, but instead dug deeper for those she cared about.
I loved her strength. I loved her, but standing in the doorway of a police station at three in the morning wasn’t the time to say it.
Even so, I knew it now, and knowing it made every decision from here forward simple.
The next hour was mostly waiting. Wick came and went. There was paperwork, phone calls, and more paperwork. Lawson stared at the floor the entire time. Bonnie sat beside him without moving, and I remained standing.
Around four thirty in the morning, Wick came back and told Bonnie that Lawson was being released into her custody.
His juvenile hearing was pending, and community service was likely, along with a counselor.
It was consequences for his actions, but not a cell, and I think it was the best any of us could hope for.
I drove them home in my truck. It was a quiet ride. Lawson sat in the back seat with his forehead against the window, and Bonnie sat up front staring straight ahead. Nobody spoke.
When I pulled into Bonnie’s driveway and cut the engine, Lawson was out of the back seat before either of us moved, heading for the front door without a word.
Bonnie watched him go, then turned to me. “Come inside? Please.”
I nodded and followed her inside.
Lawson was in the hallway when we walked in. He’d stopped outside his bedroom door and turned back to look at Bonnie.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I know,” she said with a tired smile. “Get some sleep.”
He nodded and closed his door.
Bonnie stood in the hallway for a moment and released a slow breath before she turned to look at me. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure.”
She went to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. I followed her. When it was ready, she handed me a mug and fixed one for herself.
“Back porch?” she asked.
“After you.”
The night air was cool as we sat on the porch steps. I glanced up and stared at the stars. If not, all I would do is stare at her.
“Tonight was something,” she said after a while.
“It was.”
“What you said to Darren. You called me your mate.”
My pulse kicked up. “I did.”
“What does that mean? I think I know, but I want to hear it from you.”
I set my mug on the step and turned to face her. I hadn’t planned on telling her any of this. The word had come out in the moment, aimed at Darren, and now I had to explain what it meant.
“You saw my owl,” I said. “So you know what I am. Shifters have mates. One person. It’s instinctual—a bond that goes deeper than attraction or choice. It’s for life.”
“Your owl chose me.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The first night you walked into the library.”
Her eyes widened. “That long ago? I didn’t even think you noticed me.”
“I noticed you.” I held her gaze. “My owl knew who you were to us right away. I guess I’m a little slow because I took longer to catch up.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s not something you work into small talk between closing announcements.” I paused. “And you had enough going on. I didn’t want to pile on.”
“So you just made me tea and kept the library open late.”
“I did.”
The ghost of a smile crossed her face. Even now, exhausted and wrecked, she was still the woman I couldn’t stop watching.
“You need to know something,” I said, letting the humor drop. “The bond is permanent for me. My owl won’t choose anyone else, but you have a choice. I chose you, and you get to choose me back. Or not. I won’t pressure you. I won’t make you feel obligated.”
She was quiet for a long time, and my nerves started to get the best of me.
“When did you know?” she asked. “Not your owl. You.”
“The night you swore in the library. You looked mortified and furious at the same time, and all I wanted to do was make you laugh.” I held her stare. “I’d never wanted to make anyone laugh before. That’s when I knew I was in trouble.”
Her eyes glistened. She set her mug on the step, leaned in, and pressed her lips to mine.
The kiss was soft at first. Testing. I held still for a half second, letting her lead, and then I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her back.
She made a small sound against my mouth, and my hand found her waist and pulled her closer. Her fingers slid into my hair. The kiss deepened, but then she pulled away.
She glanced at the house, then back at me. Then she took my hand and stood, pulling me up with her.
“Come on,” she said, leading me toward the shed in the backyard.
The door creaked when she pushed it open. Inside, the scents of sawdust and motor oil hit my nose. I glanced around. There was a workbench along one wall, shelves filled with rusted tools, and a canvas tarp folded over a sawhorse.
She pulled the door shut behind us, and the dark closed in.
I kissed her first this time. Slow and deliberate.
I found the zipper of her jacket and tugged it down.
She shrugged out of it and let it drop. Underneath was a thin sweater.
When I slid my hands beneath the hem, she gasped and pressed closer.
Her fingers tugged at the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it over my head.
When it was on the floor, her hands landed flat on my chest, and she paused there for a second, feeling my heartbeat.
“It’s racing,” she said.
“It does that around you.”
She smiled against my mouth and kissed me again.
I pulled her sweater over her head and let it drop.
My fingers traced along her collarbone, down the curve of her shoulder, across the strap of her bra.
Goose bumps followed everywhere I touched.
I unhooked the clasp and slid it off, and when she pressed against me—skin to skin, her chest against mine—the contact ripped a sound from my throat I didn’t know I was capable of making.
Her hands went to my belt. She undid it with steady fingers and pushed my jeans down.
I stepped out of them and reached for hers, unbuttoning them and easing them over her hips.
She kicked them off along with her shoes.
My boxers came next, and then her panties.
Soon, we stood bare skin to bare skin in the dark.
I lifted her onto the edge of the workbench, and her legs wrapped around me. When our bodies met, my breath left me in a rush. I knew exactly what I wanted in the moment, but I wouldn’t cave to it.
“Tell me what you want,” I whispered instead.
“You,” she insisted without hesitation. “Just you. Right now.”
I lined myself up and pushed inside her.
Slow. She made a sound against my mouth—soft and wanting—and her legs tightened around me.
Then I moved, and I stopped thinking about anything else.
We found a rhythm. Her fingers dug into my shoulders.
The workbench creaked beneath us. She buried her face in my neck, and the sounds she made against my skin unwound something in my chest that had been knotted tight for years.
I groaned against her ear and felt her body tighten around me.
“Gray,” she breathed, and I lost what was left of my control.
She came apart first—a tremor that rolled through her whole body—her grip on me tightening until I couldn’t tell where she ended and I began. I followed right after, burying myself deep inside her. Afterward, I pressed my forehead to hers, struggling to catch my breath.
I’d never been this close to another person in my life.
Not just physically—all of it.
Bonnie was special.
We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, breathing hard, and not letting go. Her fingers traced slow lines down my spine. My forehead rested against her shoulder.
“I didn’t plan on ending tonight in a shed with you.” She chuckled.
“Better than a police station.”
She laughed at that, and the sound hit me harder than the kiss had.
I pulled back enough to look at her. Even in the dark, I could make out her face and the curve of her mouth. I reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and held her stare.
“I love you,” I said.
The words just came out, the way my hand had found hers in the truck earlier. There was no thought behind it, no calculation, it was just instinctual.
Her breath caught.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
Relief powered through me.
“I love you.”
Her hand came up and rested against my jaw. “I love you too,” she said. “I think I have for a while. I just didn’t know what to call it.”
She kissed me again, slow and sure, and I held her knowing this was the best moment of my whole damn life.
Bonnie chose me.
This amazing, strong, beautiful woman. She knew what I was, who I was, and she chose me back.
That was everything.