Chapter 18 #2
I tilt my head back, my eyes closed. The night air is silent aside from the occasional owl and the insect activity.
When I open my eyes, I take another gulp of the brew, needing something to numb the pain.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I mutter, “It felt like you died all over again today. I want to beat your ass so fucking bad. But—” I let my head hang.
“But I’m beginning to understand why you felt you couldn’t go on without Annie. I feel the same way about Miranda.”
I stare at a beetle trying to hide from me in the grass, and my voice is dull.
“I know I could ask the Council for permission. You got permission. But then what happened? There’s a reason there are so few fated mate pairings still alive with a human mate.
If Coach hadn’t fought for you, they would never have allowed it.
” A pained laugh leaves my lips. “They didn’t let her live long, though, did they? ”
I take another pull, the anger clashing with the misery.
I’m no fool. I might have pretended not to know, but the Council of Elders never like to be forced.
There is no way that my sister-in-law just happened to walk in the middle of the road and get hit by a truck in the middle of a shady street with no cameras.
She wasn’t even supposed to be there. She had just left a job interview.
Gabriel had been too grief-stricken to think straight, and when I mentioned it to Coach, he told me I was seeing things that weren’t there. So I kept my silence. But now I wish I hadn’t. If I had mentioned my doubts to my brother, maybe he would have wanted to investigate rather than kill himself.
I let out a strangled sound, my head lifting slightly in the direction of the main house.
“I won’t mark her, Gabriel. I won’t make that mistake.
But I’ll keep her in my life somehow. I think Coach suspects, or maybe I’m just being paranoid.
A part of me wants to take her and Ethan and just run away. ”
A gust of air leaves me. “Just wish you were here. I wish you would tell me what to do. I can’t lose Miranda.
I think I’ll go insane if she leaves me.
You’d like her. She’s prickly and a little mean, but she adores Ethan.
And she kind of likes me even though she huffs and puffs when I suggest that. ”
The thought makes me laugh, and then the laughter fades as sadness settles into my bones.
“If the world was a little fair, it would have been you and me and Derek and our mates. Sunday dinners, hockey games, barbeques, children. The future we dreamed of.” I take a deep pull from the bottle, my eyes burning and my voice thick as I whisper hollowly, “But now it’s just me.
And I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do, Gabriel. ”
I stay like that till the bottle is finished and I’m just staring at nothing, weariness sinking down to my bone. I can’t move. I probably won’t. Maybe I’ll just sleep here.
Soft footfalls have me stirring, and I lift my head to see familiar legs walking toward me. Miranda is wearing shorts and a tank top as she approaches, a flashlight in her hands. I squint when the light hits me in the eyes.
“Now how did I know I’d find you here?” She sighs, grabbing my arm and pulling. “Come on, mopey. Time to go to bed.”
I let her pull me. “Why’re you mean to me? Can’t you see I’m sad?”
She glances at me. “I don’t know about sad, but you’re drunk off your ass. You have a child, Grayson. You can’t afford to drink like this. What if Ethan came looking for you?”
She puts my arm around her neck trying to support me, and I give her a lazy smile, finding the idea of her trying to help me walk cute. “He’s got you.”
“He needs you.” Her voice is stern, but it softens. “What’s wrong? Why did that man’s visit upset you so much?”
We’re walking together to the house, and I find myself leaning on her as I sniff her hair. “He was a reminder to me of how the people I care about keep abandoning me.”
Miranda’s hold on me tightens. “Who abandoned you?”
“My brother. Then Derek. And now you will once this contract engagement is over. I bet you can’t wait to get away from me.” I smile at her even as my heart pulsates painfully.
She meets my gaze, and her lips press together. “That’s not true, Grayson.”
I scoff. “I know you want to. You didn’t even take anything from me because you can’t bear to be linked to me in any way.”
We’re at the door now, and Miranda glares up at me. “That’s not true. Don’t just assume shit.” She pushes open the door and shoves me inside. I stumble forward, the alcohol affecting my balance. Grabbing the edge of the island counter, I turn around to face her as she closes the door.
“Really? Then you tell me why. Because I gave you a fucking good deal. Anybody would kill to be set up like that for life. You’d never have had to work a day in your life.”
Her jaw works, and she takes a step toward me.
“Because I don’t want money between us. You and I are already at far ends of the social spectrum.
You’re basically a celebrity, and I’m homeless, broke, and unemployed.
You start giving me money or whatever else and I can never—It just makes it that much harder to—”
She looks away, unable to speak.
“What?” I ask quietly, watching her.
She shakes her head. “Nothing. I don’t want your money, Grayson. I’ve told you that so many times.”
I reach out and grab her by the waist, pulling her toward me. Her face flushes, and she tries to yank free, but all her struggles are in vain. “Tell me, Miranda. Because money is all I have. I’ve got nothing else to keep you by my side.”
She goes still, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are flashing. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What do you mean you’ve got nothing else?”
If I was a little less drunk, I would watch my words, but tonight, everything hurts. My wolf and I want to tie this woman to us, make sure she doesn’t abandon us like everybody else.
I look down at her. “What do you want? Just tell me. I’ll give it to you. But in exchange you can’t leave me.”
Her brows furrow. “Grayson.”
“Just tell me what it is you want,” I insist. “I’ll find a way to give it to you. You want your job? I’ll buy shares in that hospital and get you your job back. I’ll build you a brand new hospital, and you can be in charge. I can—”
She covers my mouth with her hands, distress all over her face. Why does it feel like there are tears in her eyes? “I don’t need you to give me all that.”
“Then what?” I burst out desperately, pushing her hand away. “There must be something you want. Whatever it—”
“You’re enough,” she says fiercely. “You are enough. You and Ethan. Why don’t you understand that? I don’t need anything else.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, her eyes widen as if she’s just realized what she said. She immediately renews her struggles to get away from me, but my arms band around her even tighter.
“Do you mean that?”
“No. I’m lying. Now let me go!”
Sober me would have released her, knowing this conversation is entering dangerous territory. But drunk me doesn’t care. No. It wants to know. It wants the reassurance, needs it.
“Am I enough for you, Miranda?” I grab her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “Are my son and I enough of a reason for you to stay?”
She swallows, and the answer is in her eyes before it hits her lips.
“Yes.” The word is reluctant and torn from her, and she won’t look at me when she says it.
“You won’t leave me?”
“I mean I’m here for the next six months or so.”
“Miranda.” I tilt her head up, my heart pounding. “I don’t want your wit or your sarcasm tonight. Tell me.”
She wets her lips and then mutters, “What if I say I won’t leave? What does that change?”
“Everything,” I breathe before slamming my mouth down on hers.
Miranda stiffens in my arms, her body going tense against mine. For a moment, she doesn’t respond, her hands resting uncertainly on my chest. I can feel the hesitation in her, the way she holds herself back even as her lips part under the heat of my kiss.
I’m leaning back against the kitchen island, the edge digging into my lower back.
I tighten my grip on her waist and turn her around so her back is to the counter instead, then lift her easily onto it.
The movement breaks the kiss for only a second before I claim her mouth again, slower this time, coaxing her to open for me.
She stays stiff for another heartbeat, her fingers curling into my shirt like she’s fighting two instincts at once.
Then my hand slides up her back, warm and steady, stroking along her spine.
I kiss her deeper, pouring everything I’m feeling into it—the need, the desperation, the fear of losing her.
Slowly, I feel her start to melt. A soft, reluctant sigh escapes her as she finally kisses me back.
I keep her there on the counter, my body pressed firmly between her thighs.
One hand cups the back of her neck while the other grips her hip, holding her in place as I kiss her like I’ve been starving for her—slow, worshipful, and thorough.
She tries to pull me closer by tugging at my shirt, but I don’t let her set the pace.
I tighten my hold and keep leading, drawing more soft sounds from her until her body grows pliant in my arms.