26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Abby
There was ten thousand dollars in my checking account. It appeared the day after I started staying with Gage. I didn’t bother calling my bank to double check it wasn’t an error. I also didn’t bother feeling violated that Gage figured out my account number.
He gave me ten thousand dollars after I turned his check down three times. I didn’t know what to make of it.
There was a lot about Gage I didn’t know what to make of.
Two months ago, he was one of the most unfriendly people I had the displeasure of working with. Now I was living in his apartment with him, as if living with your boss in a one-bedroom apartment wasn’t extremely personal.
I knew some of his darkest secrets, had seen every scar hidden on his skin.
I also knew that Gage was the kind of person to talk during a movie, which was good because I had the same problem. Most of the time I had no idea what the plot was, and I didn’t care. Our running commentary was better.
Gage actually had a good sense of humor.
There was a projector in his living room with access to every action movie in existence. We spent most nights perched on the couch during the three weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, a bowl of popcorn between us. Gage wasn’t big on cooking, and neither was I, so most evenings we ordered takeout. Pretty sure Gage was trying to sample every takeout restaurant in the county because he was always offering a new suggestion.
I took the bed, he took the couch. I was never joined by my shadowy friend again, making me believe I hallucinated the whole experience. What was the same was the fever. During the day I was mostly fine, with maybe a wave of dizziness here or an unusual warm feeling there.
At night the heat set in, soaking me through with sweat and making the air conditioner feel like a tropical breeze. A single round of googling sent me over the edge of a panic attack, leaving me breathless and terrified of the dozen types of cancer I might have, so I resolved to avoid self-diagnosing.
First, I had to get through Thanksgiving and one awkward conversation with Levi, then I would worry about my mysterious medical condition.
“You want to go home?” Levi asked, turkey baster in hand. He was wearing an apron that said, “lick the cook” and I couldn’t figure out if it was a Kai practical joke or a shifter thing. “I mean, of course, you want to go home. Where do you live again?”
The question sounded innocent enough but by now, I was onto Levi. Nothing he said was ever without purpose.
“I’m actually planning to rent a new place.”
“Oh? Moving in November?”
“I don’t have a lot of stuff.” Understatement of the century.
“Have you talked to Gage about it?”
“I wanted to talk to you first. He’s been extremely generous with his space, and I don’t want him to feel obligated to keep sharing if it’s not necessary.” And for some reason, I’m scared shitless to tell him I’m renting an apartment, even though he knows that’s always been my end goal and he even gave me the money to do it.
Levi turned his back to me and propped the oven open to toss the turkey back in. Mason and Gage were on the porch, holding a tarp over the smoker that Mason hauled to an Airbnb so that he could compete with Levi’s “dryer than sin” oven turkey. The rain was cooling the smoker too much and now we would probably be eating smoked turkey at midnight.
Levi’s perusal of me was careful when he turned back around. He wasn’t direct like his brother, giving me room to continue arranging side dishes without feeling squirmy. Whatever he saw settled something for him. His chin dipped twice, eyes hardening with determination.
“Cargill hasn’t moved in three weeks. There’s been no sign of Manchini in the city, but for one mention from the least reliable alpha I know. If you want to rent a new place, you should. I think it’s one of the best choices you could make right now.”
I was the one eyeing him this time, trying, and failing to read the undercurrent of the conversation. “Okay. That’s good to hear.”
“Just do me one favor,” Levi said, catching me before I left the kitchen to start setting the table. “Don’t mention it tonight.”
Meaning don’t mention it to Gage tonight. Why not? I thought he would be happy to have his bed back.
“Sure,” I agreed.
“Now for the important stuff.” Levi set two sleek bottles on the counter in front of me. “White or red?”
“So, Abby, truth or dare?” Kai tilted his drink my way.
“You can’t be serious.” I rolled my eyes, holding out my glass to Levi as he refilled it with wine.
We were sprawled out in the living room, too full and more than a little buzzed. This was going to be my first Thanksgiving alone since my divorce. I thought I would be eating a turkey sandwich by myself in the back of my car. Instead, I was surrounded by good friends and good food.
I also thought no one would be in the mood to celebrate after what happened during the last three weeks. Shifters really were good at compartmentalizing.
Gage sat next to me on a plush love seat, his thigh touching my bent knee. He wasn’t looking at me as I went back and forth with Kai, but I could feel his attention on me.
I could always feel his attention on me.
“Tell me you feel it too.”
Did he feel it? Because if he was feeling anything like what I was feeling, how was he sitting there, stone-cold sober, and not flipping out? I felt crazy around him, and somehow I was supposed to sit next to him and pretend I wasn’t consumed by the heat coming off him.
At least no one noticed my fixation.
Levi rented a house outside of the city for the long weekend, huge with a modern kitchen and plenty of room to cook. Renting a space was easier for them since shifters didn’t make particularly good holiday hosts. Something about unmated males, territory, and macho drama.
I didn’t care. I was just happy to be here, on my third glass of wine and staring at my boss like he was the dessert course.
Gage didn’t say much during dinner, but I was starting to think that maybe his silence wasn’t personal. Overall, he was relaxed. Offering his brother a half smile, laughing at Kai’s obtuse sense of humor at least once.
Gage was an observer. He liked to notice the details about people, unravel them layer by layer as he quietly watched.
I was an observer too, but I only noticed details about him. My tachycardia was through the roof today, pounding an erratic rhythm in the cage of my chest and stealing my breath away. The point of no return had come and gone. I had a soft spot for Gage. A big gooey caramel center in my heart where he was all gummed up.
That part wasn’t mutual, so it was especially important to keep it to myself.
I wouldn’t go there, and I needed to remind the wine of that because it was doing funny things to my head. Well, to places much lower than my head, but those sensations travelling from between my legs were giving my head some crazy visuals.
“Really, is anyone in this pack fun, or is it just me?” Kai scoffed, swirling his tumbler with a dramatic flourish. “Fine, you owe us a story about your life. You’ve heard all of ours.”
“I don’t have any stories.”
“Everyone has stories,” he purred. “Spill the tea, Abby.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m not a super cool military spy. I’ve never even left the country. Before this year, I’d never even left Minnesota. My most exciting family vacation was the Mall of America.”
“Not so fast. There is a story there. Why did you drop everything and move to Seattle? Don’t tell me it was for the job. There are office jobs all over the country.”
“None with hunky shifters,” I said with a tipsy smirk.
Ezra and Mason laughed. Levi puffed his chest out. Gage growled because even getting called a hottie was irksome to him.
Kai took a haughty sip, green eyes dancing mischievously. “She’s avoiding the question. Gage,” he leaned to his left, where Gage was suddenly bunched on the edge of the couch cushion, “What juicy deets were in Abby’s background check that she doesn’t want us to know?”
I reached across the coffee table and slapped Kai’s arm. “You can’t ask him that!”
“Kai, you really can’t ask him that.” Levi put on his serious boss voice.
“Sorry, daddy. I broke the rules again.”
“How much has this fuck had to drink?” Ezra laughed.
“Please, I’ve heard worse during business hours.” I shot a meaningful look toward Gage. He was pointedly avoiding me, his scowl fixed on the drunk tiger shifter lounging in the seat beside him. I could see the tension rising as Gage tried to force eye contact. I wasn’t ready for my best Thanksgiving ever to end with a fight, so I blurted, “My husband came home from a business trip with a bite mark and an angry shifter babe who kicked me out of my own home.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Your husband is mated to a shifter?” Kai leaned forward a little too eagerly. The worst gossips in my old HR job weren’t as bad as him.
“My ex -husband,” I said tightly. “But yes. I don’t know what kind of shifter she is. I never asked. He left for a three-day business trip and came back with a new mate. She threw all my stuff on the lawn and literally cheered like a cheerleader when my ex handed me divorce papers.”
“Damn, that’s messed up.”
“Were they fated mates?” Ezra was leaning forward too. Who knew recounting my waking nightmare would be so entertaining.
“That’s what he claimed. He got petty when I wanted my share of everything, so he dragged out the divorce, which also dragged out all the skeletons in his closet. Apparently the three days a month when he was travelling for work were his cheat days. Literally. If he was out of the state, sleeping with other women didn’t count.” I chugged the rest of my wine, trying to swallow the taste of bitterness on my tongue.
“That was also when I learned he was opening credit cards in my name and maxing them out on drinks and luxury items for those same women. There were at least a dozen. We were married while the cards were in use, and I couldn’t prove the fraud, so I was forced to file for bankruptcy. He took the house, our joint savings, my mom’s antiques…Whatever she wanted, he gave her.” Even if he had to take it from me first.
I twirled the stem of my wine glass between pointer finger and thumb, staring at it to avoid the surprised and intrigued expressions. The more I talked, the more pathetic the story sounded, but it was already out there so I might as well finish it.
“I couldn’t stay after that. There was too much…just too much.” A lump formed in my throat, and it took enormous effort to speak those final words without a tremble.
“Shit, Abby. I’m sorry I asked.” Kai’s apology was genuine.
I didn’t want sympathy. All I wanted was to move on. To not feel stuck in this weird heartbreak purgatory where I hated my ex-husband and what he’d done to me, but his actions somehow still had sway over my self-worth.
I smiled blearily, nodding politely at whatever was spoken next without truly listening. In my head I was repeating my list of affirmations, using the positive thoughts to force down the darker ones threatening to surface.
I am worthy of love.
I deserve to be adored.
My worth isn’t defined by the way people treat me.
I waited through ten more minutes of conversation before quietly excusing myself out to the porch. Wan yellow light glowed across the horizon, the distant lights of Seattle muted by the fog. The rain had stopped falling but it hung in the air, suspended droplets clinging to me as I moved through them.
My exhale formed a cloud around my head that never seemed to dissipate. It hung over me the way my past was hanging over me, heavy and uncomfortable.
After witnessing true trauma, like what Gage went through, it didn’t feel fair to say I was traumatized by my divorce. But to be perfectly honest, I was traumatized. I lost everything, and in the process, I began to question everything.
My choices. My own judgment. My sense of self-worth.
My faith was shaken so violently by what happened. How could I ever love someone again, knowing they could do that to me? How could he walk around in the world feeling okay with how he treated me? Where was the justice? The judgment from our friends and family?
No one came to my defense. Even my own sister gave me nine days to figure my life out before sending me on my way. She picked his side. They all took his side.
I gave him my heart. My time . Years of my life.
That was the worst part, really.
So much wasted time. So many dreams that I never chased because I was married. We had a plan. Our dream mattered more.
It was a scam. An act. I felt like I was on one of those reality shows where everyone was in on it but me. They all had a good laugh at my expense and now…
Now I was humiliated and alone. Impotently furious. Caught between believing that I wasn’t good enough and knowing without doubt that I deserved better.
That didn’t make me feel better.
I rested my forearms on the damp wood railing, trying to decide if I was going to let myself cry. There were all these inspirational quotes about tears watering the garden of your future. At this point my garden was waterlogged.
I didn’t want to be thinking toward the future anymore though. This was my future. I had a good job. I lived in a beautiful—if not wet—place. Was I really going to let that asshole take up space in this good, new life I was crafting?
Maybe I didn’t have a choice. Maybe healing was like slowly unpacking one box at a time, looking at every piece of junk I unwrapped and wondering if I should keep it or if it should’ve been tossed in the giveaway pile. Methodical, painful, and time consuming.
But one day I would look up and realize my space was clean. My head would be clear, my life uncomplicated, and it would be worth the discomfort of growth. I would be strong, capable, and completely worthy of the love I still desperately wanted.
Shit, now I was crying, and the sound of conversation was filtering into the night as the porch door opened and closed.
I sniffled, rubbing beneath my eyes with my knuckles, and shifting toward the shadow of the house.
A little birdy started flapping behind my sternum and I knew before I caught him in my peripherals that Gage was standing there.
“Nice night,” he murmured, mimicking my pose, and leaning beside me on the railing.
The distance between us was friendly, and I didn’t like it. My inhibitions were still somewhere at the bottom of my wine glass so, I sidestepped closer, inclining my head up to him and saying, “You don’t make small talk.”
“It’s boring.”
“So, did they send you out here to check on me?” God, was I that obvious with my pity party?
Ping. Okay, my heart palpitations said he didn’t like that question.
“I came out here to check on you. Not because anyone told me to.”
Ping. He was rubbing his chest. Maybe he had sympathetic tachycardia? I was pretty sure shifters were immune to human heart diseases…
“That’s weird because you don’t do that either.”
“I do,” he insisted. Ping.
Jeez, it was like a bug trapped under a glass, fluttering around, and smashing uselessly into the wall over and over again.
I chose not to interpret that, instead telling him, “I probably need to cry about five hundred and thirty-six more times but after that, I’ll be fine. Better than fine. I’ll be the fucking best I’ve ever been. I won’t be twenty-two with my whole future ahead of me again, and I won’t have my pristine credit score, and it will probably be a decade before I buy another house in this economy. But I’ll be way, way fine.”
Ping. “Did you just say ‘fuck?’”
“Yeah, I learned it from you.”
Ping. He laughed, truly, genuinely laughed. The humor was short-lived, bleeding from his face as he sidestepped too, putting us close enough to touch but not touching.
I needed touching. Ping.
“I like data,” he rushed out, flinging his hands in front of him as if that made the random sentence make more sense to me. “I like numbers. I’m logical.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“Data is easy. Even when there are multiple ways to interpret it, I have these parameters. It’s not like people.”
Those waving hands stilled, slowly coming around my face, fingers rubbing along my cheek bones. Ping. Ping.
“I’m not good at this emotional shit. I’m an asshole. A huge fucking asshole that walks around with his foot in his mouth.” Ping.
I wanted to agree with him, but he was clearly struggling with whatever he was attempting to say, and I didn’t want to interrupt.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be good at this.” Ping. “But I want to be.” Ping. Ping.
My right hand snaked around his wrist, the other clutched my chest. I couldn’t decide if I was excited or finally having that heart attack.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
I had this second heartbeat inside of me, only it was squirming and living, and I swore it was stretching out of me, attaching to Gage like some kind of tentacle. Tentacle was a vulgar word for it. Somehow, I knew my heart palpitations were offended by that. The comparison was profane.
There was a more reverent name for this beautiful, ancient tie that stretched beyond time and worlds.
It still felt like a tentacle to me.
A nice, warm, comforting tentacle that urged me to lean forward, to take advantage of Gage’s fumbling attempts at conversation and kiss him. His lips were right there, and they were such good lips, perfect lips, and even if he was an asshole, I thought he was literally the most flawless specimen to exist on this earth and I would die happy if I could just have one taste.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
There was a Vegas slot machine in my ribs, and I just won the jackpot.
“Hold on, Mom, let me just—” Levi startled us from our trance and Gage leapt back—literally leapt two feet away from me.
His absence left me bereft and the weak little ping from my tentacled heart palpitation sounded sad. Levi gave me a sheepish shrug, his pretty boy features lit by the blue light of his phone. He really was handsome, classically so, but compared to his brother he was just…a guy. His appearance was on the periphery of my awareness, not appreciation but acknowledgement.
He was good looking, objectively, and I felt absolutely nothing about that.
On instinct my gaze drifted back to the pale, scowling man across from me, with dark eyebrows and stress lines around his eyes and that hair that couldn’t make up its mind about whether it wanted to be curled or straight.
Ping? My heart palpitation tittered hopefully.
Did I need a cardiologist, or a shrink?
“Did I lose you?” A tinny, feminine voice echoed through the speaker of his cell phone.
“I’m here,” Levi answered, still studying me as I blushed. Gage held a hand out expectantly but his brother skirted around him, coming to stand beside me with the phone held high.
I stared at my own washed out, grainy image in the far corner of his phone screen. There was a woman staring back at me. She had sandy blonde hair and a strong chin, just like Levi. Her brow was softer, her cheeks rounder, and she had a sage, old set to her eyes, though she couldn’t be older than fifty. Those eyes were the exact same shade as Gage’s, too steely to be truly blue, but bright like the winter sky.
“There she is! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
I glanced over my shoulder then back. She was talking to me, right? “Um, yes. Thank you! It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Griffin. Alpha Griffin?”
“Please, we’re family. Call me Erin.”
“Family,” I repeated dumbly, looking to Gage for help. His nostrils were flared, face flaming with inexplicable anger. It was the expression he usually wore right before he tried to strangle someone.
Levi snorted beside me, sporting one of those smirks that only big brothers could pull off.
Once again, there was some wordless communication happening that I wasn’t privy to.
“How was your Thanksgiving? I’m sorry we couldn’t make it for a visit. Pack Thanksgivings are a lot of work.” She wiped her brow to demonstrate. “If someone isn’t shifting over a turkey leg or the last slice of pie, is it even Thanksgiving?”
“Ours was something like that too.” I frowned, still unclear as to why I was on a video call with my boss’s mother.
“Just wait until you come for Christmas. You’ll love it! There are kids everywhere, good food, and Alaska is absolutely stunning in the winter.”
“I’m going to Alaska for Christmas?” I was not sober enough for this conversation.
“Whoa, Mom,” Levi chuckled. “We haven’t talked to her about that yet.”
Erin narrowed her eyes. “Gage isn’t bringing her for Christmas?”
Gage and I were both glaring at Levi now, one of us furious and the other extremely confused.
“Why would Gage bring me to Alaska for Christmas?” Was there a work trip they hadn’t told me about?
Erin pulled her lips back to reveal her teeth. I wasn’t sure it was a smile. “Because you belong to my son and any ma— member of his pack is welcome in mine.” She exhaled dramatically, readjusting her face into a more genuine smile. “You’re beautiful, Abigail, like a ray of sunshine. I think you’re a perfect match for us.” Then, to Levi, she said, “How do you turn this video thing off? I need to speak to your brother.”
“Nice to meet you!” I said lamely, shooting Gage an apologetic look. It was never good when a mom used that tone, no matter how old her children were.
He snatched the phone from Levi, pressing it to his ear and wincing. Well, I was glad to see I wasn’t the only woman he worked into a tizzy.
I saw my opportunity for escape and took it, hurrying past Levi and back into the house. There was a half empty glass of scotch sitting on the nearest kitchen counter and I grabbed it, not bothering to ask whose it was before downing it.
Disappointed little pings were still echoing in my chest when I plopped back down in the living room and plastered on a fake smile.
“She’s had more than enough,” Gage said coolly, appearing around the side of the couch and covering my glass before Ezra could pour another shot. He’d been gone for almost an hour, coming inside only to walk out the front door and vanish into the night. I was pretty sure he’d finished his phone call and gone home, leaving me to find a ride or stay in one of the spare rooms.
Now he was here, looming and beautiful, ice chip eyes fixed on me as I smiled drunkenly at him. I was three sheets to the wind and happy about it. I wouldn’t be happy about it tomorrow, especially when I remembered oversharing every gory detail about my marriage to Kai and Mason, but I didn’t want to care right now.
I was just trying to quiet the palpitations in my chest enough to feel sane and normal.
It was working too, until Gage returned, and my insides started wriggling like an eager puppy.
“Time to go home,” he told me, offering a hand and hoisting me off the couch.
Ooh, that was nice. Maybe I could pretend his super strength was too much and tumble into that yummy chest.
“You don’t have to—” my sentence was interrupted by a yawn. “You don’t have to leave for my sake.”
“I’m done here.” Though his hair and shirt were damp from taking his time in the rain, he wasn’t angry or tense like I expected. Dark, tired lines ringed his eyes and his tone dripped with resignation.
“Hold on!” I skipped into the kitchen to finish wrapping two plates of leftovers in foil, handing them off to Levi to put in the fridge. He took them with an easy smile, winking at me as he passed Gage.
Gage flipped his middle finger up and said, “Happy Thanksgiving, you nosy fuck.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, stubborn ass.”
That was affection, as far as I could tell. Men were weird. Shifter men especially.
“Goodnight!” I called to the others.
They waved from their spots on the couch. I suspected Kai would be waking up in that same position in eight hours, hungover and hungry.
I let Gage slide my jacket over my arms and fuss with the zipper, accepting his hand on my lower back without question. I didn’t know what was going on with us, and I wasn’t going to waste my time interpreting the mixed messages he was sending my way. There was a feeling percolating between us, and it was expanding.
Sooner or later, it would come to a head. I would have to face inevitable rejection, or perhaps lay down a boundary.
Tonight, I planned to ignore that inescapable future and pretend this was a parallel world.
A world where I spent Thanksgiving with my coworkers who were more like family. Where my divorce was a distant memory because I moved on with the first man that penetrated the fog of pain and self-doubt. I’d gone back and forth so many times about why Gage was wrong for me. He didn’t fit the mold of the man I believed I needed after my previous heartbreak.
He didn’t not fit it, either.
He was steady. Predictable, even in his tempers.
I was still buzzing with alcohol and the adrenaline zing of that thing in my chest felt like a hummingbird, zipping around excitedly whenever he was close.
“So, Alaska?” I kicked off my shoes in the front seat of his truck and pulled my knees to my chest.
Gage twisted the knob to crank the heater up higher. “I was going to talk to you about that later.”
“Christmas is only a month away.”
“My mother has formally invited you to family Christmas in Alaska.” He rushed to add, “You don’t have to go. My family is nosy and pushy and it’s none of their business what you want to do with your holiday.” He adjusted himself in his seat, sitting straighter and continuing with, “And you probably don’t want to spend your week off with all the guys from work, anyway. They’re worse when we go home. Pack brings out the crazy in everyone.”
“I would love to go,” I said quietly. “I haven’t had family Christmas since my parents died eleven years ago.”
“It’s not like family Christmas,” he explained. “It’s like a Christmas festival with over four hundred people.”
“Four hundred?”
“There’s two hundred in the pack, give or take, plus people from town are invited too. Mom hosts everyone at the alpha house. There’s food, drinks, winter games, pack runs…we basically party until the new year.”
“It sounds fun.”
“It is,” he agreed. “You’d fit right in.”
We drove in silence, the mist gently hissing against the windshield as it took shape in tiny raindrops. I shifted in the seat, laying my face against the headrest and yawning.
“I don’t have to go if you don’t want me there,” I whispered into the dark. “It’s your family. If I’m intruding…” I didn’t know why I was opening the opportunity for him to reject me. It would sting not only tonight, but again when I was completely alone on Christmas while the guys left for Alaska.
But I needed to know his answer. If he told me not to come, then that was that. Didn’t matter if Levi and the rest said I was pack. That only worked if they all accepted me, Gage included.
I didn’t even want to be a part of their pack if I only had one foot in, the other standing on the sidelines to protect Gage’s ego and the boundaries that he himself didn’t uphold consistently.
The quiet confession that followed was the last thing I heard before drifting to sleep in the front seat.
“I want you to go with me.”