Chapter 7 Raff
RAFF
I'd spent the last few days angry at a dead man, and the worst part was I couldn't confront him about it. My beloved twin was somewhere I couldn’t reach him.
Whatever Bodie had done to Thorne, the human refused to discuss it. I made lists in my head of what my brother did that was so bad, but it was futile when Thorne refused to voice his anger.
And though Thorne was my mate and I should have been head over heels in love with him, I instinctively reacted to the human as if I’d taken on my brother’s role.
Bodie’s scent provoked something in me. My brother had been a lot of things.
The words charming, reckless, impulsive popped into my head, but I'd always believed he was a decent guy. Maybe I was wrong.
When we were kids, he protected me, and now somehow in death, those roles were reversed, and the universe was telling me what? That I had to take my twin’s side and defend him from any accusations that the human could fling at him.
The situation was so messed up, and my head and heart were messed up along with it.
The cafeteria should have been a place to forget about work, chat with friends, and eat great food, but now it had become a battleground. Thorne was always there, whether out back in the kitchen or in the cafeteria itself. He and I no longer made eye contact, or if we did, we quickly looked away.
He was supposedly still considering whether to reveal the truth, and I was giving him space.
That was what humans called it. But my wolf made that nearly impossible.
If Thorne came within twenty feet of me, my wolf lunged toward him and I had to haul him back.
And underneath that desperate pull to be with my fated mate, Bodie's scent lingered, and my anger flared again.
I was mad at my brother which was a betrayal. He was dead. He couldn't defend himself. But he'd done something to the one person the universe had chosen for me, and I couldn't forgive that without knowing what it was.
Anger at my twin and at Thorne for keeping quiet festered inside me, and I wanted out of my head. Though that wasn’t possible, when two days off landed on the schedule, I drove home to my folks’.
My parents lived in the same house I'd grown up in. It was a large old place which had originally belonged to my grandparents. It was perfect for shifters, especially ones who had just found their beasts, because it backed up to the woods where Bodie and I had taken our first shifts.
Dad was in the garden when I pulled up, kneeling beside a row of tomato plants that he’d been weeding.
He stood when he heard the truck and met me halfway up the path.
His eyes brightened when he caught sight of me, but that didn’t hide the sadness that had snatched away a part of him when Bodie died.
“You look tired.” He pulled me into a hug.
“That's why I’m here for some R&R.”
He studied my face but didn’t ask any probing questions. My omega father tended to hold back questions until you answered them on your own, which was kind of infuriating.
Pop was in the kitchen making lunch. He grinned, and if a stranger walked in, they wouldn’t have picked up on the grief that he hid.
Pop had learned to live with the pain of losing Bodie even though it was a constant ache.
Bodie's death had broken something in Dad that never fully healed, whereas Pop had learned to carry the weight of it.
“There he is.” Pop clasped my shoulder. “I saw the highlights from last week. You looked good out there."
I didn’t want to talk about how that wasn’t true. I’d been average at best after the benching.
We ate lunch, and they asked about the new team, about Axel who I’d mentioned, and the facilities. I’d sent some pics, and they were as impressed as I was that first day.
Dad asked if I was eating properly and whether my apartment had working smoke detectors. That last one he asked every time I moved somewhere new. None of us spoke of why he did that. It was too painful and would dredge up memories.
“Are either of you familiar with the name Thorne?”
“Should we be?” Pop asked.
“With regards to what? Is this to do with one of the neighbors or an old school friend?” Dad pushed his plate away.
“He's the new chef at the stadium.”
They both shrugged. I wasn’t going to tell them he was my mate because they’d get excited and pepper me with questions. Dad in particular could do with some good news, but I chose to keep that hidden.
“He knew Bodie.”d
My parents stopped fiddling with their water glass and picking at leftovers.
“Knew him h-how?” There was a tremor in Dad’s voice.
“That's what I'm trying to find out.” I explained that he wouldn’t tell me much. But he knew my brother, and because I looked like Bodie, he connected the dots that we were brothers. “I wondered if Bodie ever mentioned him.”
Pop shook his head. “Bodie had a lot of friends, many of whom we never met.”
I cleared my throat because the last thing I wanted to do was cause my folks more pain. “Ummm, his reaction wasn’t favorable, so I doubt they were friends.”
Pop put a hand over Dad’s, and they shared a glance. Perhaps I’d made a mistake bringing up my brother.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I took a deep breath and launched into how we loved Bodie no matter what, as we should have. We were family. But not everyone liked him.
“Whatever happened between them, it wasn't good.”
Pop squeezed Dad’s hand. “I wish we could help, but Bodie kept things from us. You know that.”
“True.” Bodie had been open about his dreams and opinions on everything from hockey strategy to which pizza topping was the best. But the private parts of his life, he'd kept those to himself.
I asked permission to go to his room, not that I needed to, but it was a sanctuary where Dad often spent an hour just sitting with his memories and sadness.
I climbed the stairs and walked to Bodie's bedroom door at the end of the hallway. I didn’t go in straight away and recalled all the times I’d been in there growing up. It’d been a place of light and noise, and now time had moved on, but the room never did.
Dad couldn't bring himself to touch it, and Pop wouldn't push him. The bed was still made with the same duvet. Posters of hockey players covered one wall, and one shelf held Bodie’s trophies. His scent no longer filled the space, even though it looked as though he'd be back any minute.
My wolf whimpered as he always did when we came in here.
I know it’s hard. But we have to try and remember the good times.
You should take your own advice.
I was getting better at it.
I sat on the edge of the bed and welcomed the memories of Bodie throwing a tennis ball at the wall and catching it while he spoke of our future in professional hockey.
He’d been the one to sneak in the window after curfew, and he’d shifted for the first time in a spot in the garden I could see from where I sat.
His wolf was smaller than mine, but like Bodie, he was fearless.
I opened his desk drawers and flicked through the notebooks filled with his drawings, plans, and homework assignments. The closet and the boxes under the bed didn’t reveal any mention of Thorne. I even searched his jacket pockets.
But I did find his bright pink stuffed flamingo and his favorite book.
We’d both been given a flamingo when we were babies.
Originally they looked the same, but not anymore.
It had a wonky right eye that Pop had resewn more than once.
My brother adored the toy, and I held it to my face, reveling in the very faint scent of him.
The next thirty-six hours were uneventful. I asked my parents if I could take the flamingo, and they agreed, though Dad insisted on taking a photo with it. He hugged me long and hard which he’d done since my brother's death, fearing I wouldn’t come back.
“Be careful.”
On the drive back, the flamingo sat on the passenger seat.
“I wish you could tell me your secrets and my brother’s.”
Whatever Bodie had done to Thorne, I'd hear him out. I owed my brother that, even if the answer was something I didn't want to hear. And I owed Thorne the patience to tell me when he was ready.
But I owed a debt to my wolf who'd come alive after seven years and to whom I was refusing the one thing that would make him and me happy.