45. Deacon
Chapter 45
Deacon
Hope glints in Henri’s eyes, and it startles her. I can see it. Plain as day. I’m not dumb enough to believe that, just like that, with the snap of her fingers, she’s going to be free of the trauma from the years of being with him. But the hope, a lightness of relief beyond the cage she was trapped in, is a brilliant thing to see.
Henri’s always been pretty easy to read, and it was subtle, but she froze when I asked about the catalyst of the breakup, which leads me to believe there’s something she’s not telling me. But hopefully, someday—when she’s ready—she’ll feel comfortable enough to share it with me.
The glint and gleam of hope in her eyes changes to wide-eyed fear in the space between breaths. “Oh my God. Deacon. Did Cade remember the meeting with New York by the Hour was today?”
“Was it on his calendar?” seems to be the right question.
“Of course it was on his calendar.” She scolds me, furrowing her brow as she squirms out of my grasp, pushing off the blanket and leaving my perfectly good little fort .
So much for a time - out. I find the knife cast aside and pick that up before I start moving the blankets to the couch.
“Deacon.” Henri glares at me, having gone from worry to rage. “Why is my phone not calling out?”
“Because you’re on time-out.” I remind her.
My phone, over by the stove, is her next target. She picks it up and draws the pattern I showed her the last time I let her play with it.
“You changed your passcode?” She looks at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. Because you knew it, and you’re on a time-out.” I put the knife in the dishwasher and then step over to her, wrapping my arms around her. She deflates a little with the skin-on-skin contact. “Cade is a big kid now. Take the training wheels off. It’s not like we left him alone. He’s got Meaghan, and she’s doing a fantastic job.”
The massive sigh she lets out is Lena-level dramatic. This’ll be harder than I thought. “What do you do for fun when you’re not working?”
Henri sets my phone back down and turns in my arms, looking up at me. She shakes her head. “I don’t really have any hobbies. I never had time. I was working and then taking care of the house and cooking. Then we’d go out with Nathan’s friends. Or, when I was still in school, my days consisted of studying.”
“Alright, go back as far as you can. When was the last time you didn’t have a million responsibilities? What did you like doing then?” I take big leaps.
I probably shouldn’t rush her into the healing process. But I have a feeling she’s gonna need a major distraction to stop her from thinking about whatever it is that she would normally struggle to delegate .
“Well, I guess high school?” She pulls her hair up in her hands and fans her face but still stays leaning up against me.
Begrudgingly I let her go. “Alright, high school. What did you like to do? Sports, reading, trivia, cheerleading.”
My wolf and I immediately think of her in a cute little cheerleading uniform. Focus.
“Not athletic.” Henri shakes her head. “Oh God. I’m so not athletic. Haven’t you seen me at pack runs? That’s the most I’ve ever ‘sported.’”
Cheerleading uniform pushed aside, I try again, “Fair enough. So, reading? Writing? Binging television shows? Crafting? Photography?”
Henri steps away from me, but I catch her face turning pink. “You’ll laugh. I’m sure we can find some new hobby or something if you’re so insistent.”
“Oh. No. No. No.” I follow her back to our fort so she can track down her clothes, walking backward to face her. “What has you all embarrassed?”
She bites her lips together, which has me tipping my head to the side.
“I liked to crochet. I made a bunch of granny squares and turned them into blankets.” She sighs and picks up the shirt.
“Well, Henri... you little hooker.” I give her the never-fails devil-may-care smirk.
“Deacon!” she gasps. Looking up at me, she’s about ready to smack me with the shirt, but then she catches my expression. “Oh no, that face doesn’t work on me. I’m immune to your charms.”
“Mm-hmm.” I roll my eyes and start looking for my clothes. “Well, it’s just your luck. Thalia is a stitch. As you may know, that is someone who practices knit craft, and it has made me an absolute yarn snob. ”
“I don’t think those... That’s not how that goes.” Henri starts to correct my completely made-up terms.
“Tomato, potato.” I ignore her. “Just call me your sommelier of yarn. Let’s get cleaned up. There’s still time today to make it to a couple yarn stores if we hurry.”
“I don’t get paid until tomorrow,” Henri blurts out in a hurry.
“And?” I shake my head at her. “Listen, I know we’re not exactly having the talk of what we are or who we are to each other beyond our wolves being positive we’re mates, but, Henri, in case you haven’t noticed... money really isn’t something I worry about.”
“It just feels so weird.” She draws a deep breath but pulls my T-shirt over her head. “Cade’s already insisted I don’t pay for rent nor the SUV. Or fuel for the SUV or any maintenance on it. I feel like such a freeloader.”
If Henri isn’t paying for a car or rent and she doesn’t exactly eata ton ... assuming she has student loans... “Henri, I know it’s not polite to talk about money, but what happened to your paycheck?”
Her lips bitten together, staring at the floor and not looking at me, says it all.
I pull my sweatpants on and try not to storm to the kitchen. I stay cool as I cross the space.
After a few taps on my screen, my phone starts to ring out.
“Deacon, how’s Henri?” Cade doesn’t mince words.
“Good. Remember your interview with the newspaper.” I give Henri a thumbs-up, not turning around to face her and knowing her well enough to know that she would have watched me walk away even if she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Freeze Henri’s paycheck.”
“Okay.” Cade pauses. “Why? ”
“Think that through and ask the question again.” I pause, trying not to be angry with him.
How the fuck did he not think of this?
It takes him a minute, the metaphorical gears whirring in his mind, but the overthinker finally gets it. “I have her information on file. I’ll get her an account with the pack’s credit union because she’s going to insist on using her own money.”
“Mm-hmm.” I don’t argue with him.
Henri’s footsteps announce her approach behind me as she stalks closer.
Money doesn’t matter when she’s our mate. My wolf acknowledges.
I don’t bother arguing with him either.
“Alright. I’ll use her paycheck and a bonus for putting up with your ass to get it opened.” Cade finishes typing out something, keyboards clicking in the background.
“Would be really nice if you would take care of your staff’s student loans too.” I offhandedly mention.
“Good call. I’ll get Meaghan on that. No reason for the government to get any more interest than they need to.” Cade agrees, and I’m surprised by his very anti-nationalistic comment. It’s more of a me statement than something that would come from him. “Anything else?”
“The meeting tomorrow with Alise Mitchell from the DNR,” Henri whispers.
“Meeting tomorrow with Alise Mitchell, the DNR commissioner.” I sigh. She’s supposed to be on time - out.
“Rescheduled. She wants me to go up with her to the boundary waters. Thalia and I are going to make it a whole excursion. I’ve already got one of Henri’s staff on it.” Cade is quick to answer .
“That’ll do it. Henri will be back to work in a couple days.” I inform him before hanging up without saying goodbye.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Henri’s blue eyes are a little glassy.
I put my phone back down and turn to face her. “I didn’t. But I did anyway. I don’t want anyone to control you. And if that means being a little, tiny bit assertive from time to time, I will.”
“Well, if you don’t let people know you’re assertive, I can probably live with that. It would change how the media sees you, and I can’t possibly have that. I just got them to think of you as slightly responsible and intelligent, not just a playboy.” Henri’s brain is officially in work mode. It’s like a light turned on in the house and you can’t find the switch.
If she posted us together, there’d be no question we’re not fucking others. Everyone would see it, my wolf explains.
While his concept of social media isn’t quite there, he’s not wrong.
But I don’t voice his ideas. I don’t know what the ‘order’ of the world is like between us, and I’m afraid to ask.