52. Henri
Chapter 52
Henri
I counted the pills in my desk four times this morning. Not that it was hard, but because I don’t want to believe it’s true. I have exactly three days left before I could start going into heat. Sometimes they say that if you’ve been on suppressants for a while, it takes time for your body to flush all the suppressants out of your system. So maybe I get an extra day or two? Surely we’ll be home by then.
On the plane, I’m trying to focus but can’t. I attempt to read over the information that Cade and his attorneys have been emailing back and forth, but my focus is all over the place. There are so many questions in my brain that I’m afraid to ask—about Ansel’s situation and my own.
Why didn’t I tell them? Why didn’t I just tell them?
I know why. I was embarrassed and had resigned myself to take heat leave. It was on my calendar to ask Cade for the time off tomorrow. Then also on my calendar to maybe talk to Deacon about it.
Coincidentally, we’ve been seated next to each other. I understand why Cade and Thalia would sit together, and it only makes sense that the two of us would be put together, but part of me wishes I could have traded with one of them. It’s hard to avoid Deacon when he’s sitting next to me.
My wolf focuses on him. Heat with Deacon would be fun, we could be mates.
We can’t be mates with him. I argue with her. Illogically.
Just because you don’t want to be doesn’t mean we can’t. She makes a valid point.
I look back at the email again, trying to focus on the words, and I make a note in my notepad. I don’t know the extent of the arrest, but one thing that’s always good is character witnesses. People Ansel’s helped and rehabilitated need to be interviewed by the media and for depositions.
“What’s wrong?” Deacon whispers, slouching in his seat to get closer to me, keeping the conversation relatively private given the airliner.
“Uhm.” I close my eyes, and the angry tears well up again. Tensing my shoulders, I force myself to stop freaking out. “There was an issue with my heat meds...”
Stop covering for him! My wolf snarls inside me.
It’s a slap to the face from within, and I speak out about Nathan, obeying her demand. “Nathan threw them out, and I only have my reserve supply left.”
“Shhh,” Deacon whispers. He puts a comforting hand on my leg, fingers gripping my thigh, squeezing gently. “How long is that?”
“Three pills after I take today’s. I was going to talk to Cade about heat leave.” I swallow hard, looking at him and meeting his eyes before gesturing back to the scary emails on my laptop. “What if it’s not enough time?”
“We’ll think of something,” Deacon answers calmly. “Don’t freak out. Start spacing your pills out. Instead of exactly twenty-four hours, move them to thirty-two hours. It gives us a little extra time.”
“Is that safe?” I whisper.
“I know it is. They built fail-safes into the pills for the forgetful kind of wolves. It’ll technically hold for thirty-six hours, but I don’t want to risk it with Ansel’s pack.” Deacon slides his fingers against the fabric of my pants in small strokes, and the touch calms me.
Relaxing in my seat for a minute, I try to let his reassurances sink deep into my body, all the way to my bones.
Our mate will care for us. My wolf tries to steady me.