Chapter 10 A Tale of Two Clones
A Tale of Two Clones
RAFE
Ifollow him in silence down the hallway to a guest room.
Neither of us is pleased at getting sent off after the disaster with Blade, and it shows.
Tension is screaming from every pore, and you could cut the quiet with a knife.
It’s not surprising to watch him go straight for the small bar by the window—I guess in a house this big, you put amenities in every room.
Why not? It’s how Hex has ours set up, so it’s not so hoity-toity.
Our guest rooms don’t all have bottles of scotch valued at two bennies apiece, but that’s how he lives. He has a batch set aside at the distillery only for him. That’d be vintage Taurus for sure.
“Neat?”
“Hell yes,” I reply.
I drop onto the bed, noting that this room has a more masculine feel to it.
Sitting back against the headboard, I tuck my knees up to my chest, keeping everything inside me placid.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here, given that the cat made her intention to let my wife go clear to me before the blindness came up.
She’d decided yesterday that having this love was too dangerous to her heart, and she couldn’t risk losing everything for both of us by letting it continue.
Has something changed?
The cat didn’t stop Blade from sending me off with him, though, nor did she say anything about it to my wife before we left.
I don’t know what she’s playing at, and every time I try to dip in and see what she’s thinking; she gives me a mighty push back where I belong.
I guess it’s up to me to figure out why I’m here on my own.
Taurus pours two hefty glasses and strides over, handing me one.
He doesn’t sit down. Instead, he pushes back and lounges against the wall nearby.
He’s still dressed only in those silk pajama bottoms, and it’s tough to focus on what we’re doing with him over there looking like the leading man in a romance novel: troubled, but powerful and handsome.
He takes a sip of his scotch, waiting for a moment before he speaks in a low tone.
“Do you know what the loudest sound is, mate?”
Sipping my drink, I look up at him for a moment and then stare into the glass. “Silence.”
He chuckles, and I look up again for a minute. Feeling uncomfortable, I reach up and pull the tie from my hair, letting it loose so the pressure on my skull will ease and ward off the massive migraine that I feel coming.
“Right.” His dark sapphire eyes roam over me as he sips again. “He who sees clearest is?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. What is he, the bloody Riddler?
“The blind man.” I slide my knees down, stretching out on the bed. If we’re going to approach it like this, we’ll be here all damned day and I’ll get a cramp. Propping my chin in my hand, I set the glass in front of me, waiting for whatever little game he has in store next.
“Here, it’d be the blind woman, mate.”
I arch a brow at the grin that ghosts over his lips.
Where is he going with this? Can’t either of these two pull the trigger and be done with it? Why is it always a production?
“The goddess knows you love her. She believes it; it’s a fact to her now.”
I bite my tongue, struggling not to shoot back. I don’t know how she didn’t before, given I told her so and showed it every way that I could. And I’m honestly not sure I trust her ‘knowing’ now, either. I’ve been in this situation before; it does not end well for me or my primary mate.
“She knows because she knows how much she loves you. It wasn’t you she didn’t trust; she didn’t trust herself. The pain of losing you forever and the possibility of being permanently blinded—it brought that all home for her. You warmed her heart and brought her to life again.”
I’m unsure what this has to do with him and me. Blade and I had our chat prior to coming to get the cat to heal her. We’re not perfect yet, but we’re back to being bonded, and I know it will only continue to grow.
Okay, I hope that will happen because I sure as hell don’t want to do this day again.
The cat may not survive losing my wife, if she lets her into the inner sanctum and it blows up. “I feel it from her now. It took some time, but I know she feels my love now.”
That’s what I’ve got. No more, no less. I don’t want to have this conversation with anyone again.
He takes another long draught, watching me as he does so. “That feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing that you belong? It feels amazing knowing that no matter what: fighting, loving, dying—nothing can break that bond.”
Don’t know if I’m there yet, but okay.
“It feels good knowing that she’s on board with that.”
“Now there’s you and me to contend with. I don’t think the women will tolerate much shit from us, so they left us on our own to do what we will. I don’t want to set Talia off because she can give you a migraine the likes of which you do not want to experience.”
Ha. I get those all on my own, buddy, like right the hell now.
“I don’t know if you’ve experienced what my household calls a ‘banshee’ yet, but when the kitty’s fur gets ruffled, she can split your skull like she’s roaming the moors of Scotland. It will ring in your ears for a week.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure, and I hope to hell not to, but being me, I’m sure I will. I didn’t figure the cat to be a long-distance fighter. She’s more of a five-finger reprimand in person, I’d think.”
“Oh, she’ll fight from afar if she’s busy doing something else. With that new job, I suspect we’ll all get used to the kitty wails.”
Taurus looks thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll make a mistake—kill someone in the house—that’d do it, and it will be all over.”
I blink. Kill someone in the house? Holy shit.
“She’d get so pissed. Unless she’s the one making the mess, she gets furious at people making a mess in the house.”
Taurus chuckles. “I noticed the rules don’t apply to her already. I’ll be on my toes.” Sitting his glass down, he sighs.
I wait, crossing my legs at the ankles and letting my hair spill over my shoulders. I’ll be damned if I’m going to start this conversation and get accused of anything else this week.
“About us.” He tilts his head, with an amused smile crossing his lips. “Oh, you pose well, you dramatic prat.”
I arch a brow, looking him up and down. “I’m only getting comfortable. I’m not the one leaning about in silk, looking all leading man-ish.”
“No distractions, mate. This is serious. I want to know what’s going on with you. I get that you love me. Talk to me about this. Why did you say that to me anyway?”
What sort of dumbass question is that? Is it a trap?
I give him a confused look, unsure where to start.
What does he mean, why did I have to say it?
I said it because I felt it, for fuck’s sake.
Why else? “If you mean why did I say it then, the answer is because when I get upset, I blurt things out I wouldn’t say out loud.
It’s an irritating yet persistent quirk of being me. ”
He rolls his eyes. “Talk about your bad timing, mate.”
“It always seems to happen that way. It’s always the worst moment. It’s a curse.”
His frown deepens, and he shakes his head. “You’re shutting me out. You’re talking, but you’re not communicating.”
I look at the linens for a moment and then sigh. “It’s subconscious because I’m nervous. We’re on uneven footing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say.”
Picking up his drink again, he nods and takes a sip, but doesn’t respond.
“With all that happened yesterday, I have a reason to be gun-shy. I didn’t expect to be here right now, and I don’t want to screw something up.” I shrug, flipping the ring in my navel, trying to keep my nervousness under wraps.
Taurus watches me for a few moments, then pads over to sit on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard.
He closes his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then mumbles, “I understand that. You know I want you, and you know I care. You know what you do to me when we’re—” Stopping for a moment, he takes another sip as if to fortify himself.
“You’re not the only one out on a limb here. ”
Still fiddling with the ring, I nod. “You’re not out on a limb with me. You know I love you. I didn’t mean to say it like that or even right then, but you know. I’m the last person to judge what you say and the first one to accept it.”
Giving me a pained look, he murmurs, “I don’t understand your love for me.”
I shrug. “I love. It doesn’t matter which chromosomes it involves. I love who I love. I always have. That’s how I work. I know not everyone works that way, and it’s fine. But I can only be me, not anyone else. That I know for sure.”
Dreadful memories, terrible memories.... shit.
The panic sets in when I say that I can only be who I am, not anyone else. I take a slow breath, and it helps… a little.
“I’m not sure that I can love you.”
He wouldn’t be the first. At least he’s honest about it. I can deal with honesty.
“I understand.”
“I know I want you. I’m still reeling because I’ve met no one who made me feel the things you made me feel in the way you made me feel them.” His hand comes up to rub over his eyes, and he whispers, “I know that if my woman can’t deal with us, we will walk away so we don’t hurt her.”
My eyes flash golden, anger welling up so quickly that it shocks me.
That is not what he said when we sat down. What in the goddamn hell do they want from me?
I feel the rage surging inside me, and a calming wave comes sliding down the bond from my primary.
My primary wants me to calm down and give him a chance.
That’s bloody different from the damned edict she gave me today, but there you go.
I guess she’s ready to risk the nuclear fallout when this all blows up.
Always betting on the long shot— that's my woman—but it’s not me anymore.
“I know what the score is. I offered to walk away yesterday. I think...” I ignore the screeches in my mind and whisper, “I think maybe we should.”
Before he blinks, I’m off the bed and over at the window, putting the distance I need between us so I can deal with the emotional distance.
“I love Talia, but I can’t lose someone that I love, even if they don’t and can’t love me.
There’s been too much of that already. I’d rather put an end to this now before it becomes such a big deal that having to cut it off will affect what I have with her. ”
Turning away, I open the filmy curtains and look out into the night.
“I love her to my marrow, but having to choose once it’s gone too far eats you alive.
It rots your soul. Trust me, I know.” I lament while looking over my shoulder, my expression full of the ghosts of the past. He doesn’t respond, and I go back to staring into the mist crawling over the back patio and gardens.
“Christ.”
“I have to be honest because I’ve made the mistake of not being honest before.
” I walk out onto the balcony, inhaling the scents coming off the gardens below.
I guess I’ve been around the cat too long.
The smell of the ocean mixed with flowers calms my rattled psyche a little.
“If I truly let you in, and it’s gone in a snap, I’ll be more than damaged.
I might not resent it right away, but over time, the room would be thick with tension every time that I saw you.
It’d make doing anything with the family impossible. ”
“I don’t want that, mate.”
My voice is a low whisper. “I don’t either, but I also won’t let her give up the cat.
It will shred the part of her that’s held together by a thread.
I will not ask for the same consideration from my wife; she’s free to have what she wants from both of us.
” Closing my eyes, I will myself to not allow any more emotion than I’m already showing to manifest. I cannot seem weak to someone who can hurt me—never again will I let anyone have the pleasure of hurting me with my love again.
“Hell, it was already tense in that room, even during the healing.”
I know that was all the cat, but she was halfway to robot mode. It’s half Stepford, half zombie logic monster, and if you know the cat at all, it’s like an alien possessing her body.
Everything about robot mode feels wrong.
“What do you want me to do? What do you want from me? I’m sick of the pain and sick of the hurting, Sampson. I had my share with the minx. I can’t handle much more.”
Neither can I, and I don’t know what to do about it.