by Mason Sabre
When she managed to click call, she stood next to the car waiting for Shelley to pick up. Tom wouldn’t be home at this time of day, but she figured she could at least check that it would be okay to drop by later. And it was better not to be looking at Cade as he strode toward her, his powerful legs carrying him swiftly across the gravel driveway. Watching his very masculine, perfectly proportioned form approach her was not a good idea when she was trying to keep her wits about her and not give in to the primal urges driving her when it came to this man. Gemma could still feel the delicious tingle on her lips from his kiss … the callousness of his fingers as he cupped her face and held her—Cade’s way. There was something profoundly delicate in those strong hands. Whenever they touched her like that, she felt like nothing in the world could ever hurt her.
“Gem,” Shelley squealed after a few rings. Relief at the chirpy sound of her friend’s voice followed hot on the heels of the momentary shock to her sensitive eardrums. It felt like they hadn't talked for years, yet in truth, she had seen her just last week. “Wait. Don’t you dare tell me you're calling to cancel. I swear to God, Gemma, if—”
“I’m not. I promise.” She had plans with Shelley for coffee on the weekend. Even if she was down with the flu, she would not miss it. She needed the break as much as Shelley did. Just a little bit of girl R & R time. “I’m calling about work, actually.”
As Gemma talked, Cade nodded at her, holding up the car key to signal for them to go. At her answering nod, he clicked the fob, releasing the locks. She got in, trying to balance the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she fought with the seatbelt. “I need to see Tom. Is he home today? This evening?” She signalled to Cade that he could drive, mouthing the word ‘ready’ at him.
“He’s home now if you want. Do you want me to get him? He’s just—Goddammit, Tom,” she suddenly yelled, causing Gemma to yank the phone away from her ear. “I swear. I’m going to break my damn neck one of these days.” There was another muttered curse and a crashing sound. “Jesus. Tooooom—”
Gemma waited a moment until her friend became quiet. “Shell? Everything okay?”
There was a slam of a door. “You left your damn case in the middle of the floor again,” her friend shouted, presumably still at Tom. Gemma could hear him in the background, along with the chatter from Rachel, their youngest. She came back on the line a moment later. “Sorry about that. I swear, Gem, never get married. Just go home and throw your shit on the floor and then buy a vibrator. It’s easier.”
“Duly noted, thank you,” Gemma said with an amused smile, leaning back in her seat and welcoming the total change in her morning. Even if it was just for a second.
“At least that way, when you trip up, it’s your own shit,” she carried on and then took a breath. “Anyway. Sorry. What’s up? What do you need Tom for?”
“I have Jessica Cooke’s laptop. I need Tom to see if he can get into it. It’s password protected, and we need to have a look at the emails. Do you think he can?”
“Password protected. Probably. Maybe I need to be a bloody computer so he can find all my right buttons. Jessica alright?”
“She’s dead,” Gemma said, wincing as the words left her mouth.
Silence.
“Shell?”
“Well, shit. I mean … fuck … dead? Like gone? I mean ... bollocks ... Jessica is dead? Little Jess?”
Gemma waited for Shelley to finish and for the new onslaught of cusses to cease.
“Are you sure?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out that way.”
“No. It’s fine. Just … fucking hell. She’s a kid.”
“I know.”
“What happened? Does Michael know?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Michael was Shelley’s younger brother. The youngest of the Fae family and the baby amongst Evie, Danny, himself and Jessica. Gemma filled Shelley in as Cade drove, leaving out the parts of Jessica being cut up, her heart and unborn child splayed out beside her like some sick bastard’s masterpiece. She did tell her about the baby, though, letting her assume that the foetus had been where it was meant to be—inside its mother’s womb.
“If you need anything, just ask. Okay?” Shelley said when Gemma was done.
“Just her laptop right now. We’ll come over soon. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Of course.”
Gemma hadn't realised that Cade had taken a different route. She’d been so locked up with Shelley, going over the notes as she spoke, that she didn’t realise they were going in the total opposite direction to Shelley’s house. “I need to go,” she said to her friend. “I’ll see you in a little while, okay?”
“Sure. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Shell. See you soon.” She hung up and turned to Cade. “Where are we going? Shelley’s house is just—”
“We’re not going to Shelley’s just yet.”
“Then where?” She looked out of the window, and her heart sank. Shit. “Cade ...” She shook her head. She knew these roads. Knew them too damn well. “Whatever idea you’ve got in your head, it isn’t a good one.”
He glanced at her, icy blue eyes fixing her with a stare. “We need to talk. We can't do it at my house, or your house, and we most certainly won’t get to it at Shelley’s house.”
“We need to work—”
“We can work after. I want to talk first.”
She sank back in her seat, her arms across her chest and mounting dread filling her stomach. She hadn't come this way since she had been pregnant with Connor, and that felt like a lifetime ago—a time when she had been happy. Back then, seeing the familiar road markings and signs would have filled her with excitement. She would have felt joy and love and peace inside knowing they were heading to that spot–their spot.
The small cabin in the woods was hidden from the world, something Malcolm had bought as part of his mass buying when the lands had been burnt. He never used it, and Cade and Gemma had taken full advantage of the small, cosy, out-of-the-way cottage when they had needed to escape. They had spent weekends there, running off, hiding from the rest of the world. Just being them where no one would see. The last time they had come, her belly had been swollen with life. Connor was nestled safely inside her and every hope and dream they had had rested on him.
“Please turn back,” she whispered as they got closer, fighting back a sob, every happy memory now like an ache in her gut for the one thing they had almost had. They had lost it all in the space of one evening.
Cade pulled into the small bay that, to anyone else, looked like a layby. A small lane led through the overgrowth, weeds and plants growing wildly each way you looked. A few years ago, there had been a great burning of all the fields. The Humans had been trying to flush Phoenix out, knowing they had a wild half-breed on the loose. Some places had grown back in tangled disfigurement, as if the plants had just refused to grow right in protest to what had happened. Sometimes, when Gemma and Cade had come here to shift and run, she could swear that she could still smell the hint of fire held in the leaves and blades of grass.
Gemma blinked back tears as Cade cut the engine and got out of the car. She didn’t move right away, letting herself just stare out into a place that had once held such happy moments.
He was sitting on the bonnet of the car when she eventually got out and came around to the front with a heavy heart, making sure she kept her distance from him.
His brows drew together when his gaze fell to her cheek, his jaw clenching as he lifted his eyes back to hers. “Who hit you?” he said, angling his head at her.
Gemma frowned. “You brought me here to ask who hit me?”
“No. It’s just a question. Who hit you?”
Her heart gave a small lurch, but there was no way she was telling him anything that had happened at her house. He’d not let her go back there on her own, and he was liable to camp out on her lawn if she did anyway. “Can we please just go,” she said, annoyed that he had noticed wha
t she had tried so hard to cover up.
“Answer my question, Gem,” he said, his tight jaw at odds with his cool tone.
She pursed her lips and stared at him, and in response, he sat back and folded his arms across his broad chest. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbow only reinforced the image of a man determined to get to the bottom of whatever it was he needed to.
Suddenly feeling very caged and angry, Gemma spun on her heel and stormed off along the path, too furious to answer him.
How dare he do this.
She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to shout at him. He knew what bringing her here would do.
The path that led to the cabin wasn’t very short, but it was short enough that Gemma’s temper hadn’t faltered by the time she reached the cabin. Cade was following her—she could sense him—but he stayed behind her, keeping a distance. And it wasn’t because she was faster. Cade was shifter and male—there was no outrunning him even if she wanted to.
When the cabin came into view, a strong grip on her arm had her jerking to a sudden stop. When Cade’s hold didn’t ease, she tried to snatch her arm away, she swung around and shoved at him with her free hand. “This doesn’t get to be all about you,” she yelled, jabbing a finger in his rock-hard chest. “Or all about what you want. This is selfish, Cade.” She could hardly breathe from the agony in her chest. Doubling over, she sucked in deep lungfuls of air, trying to calm herself, but all she managed to do was magnify everything she felt. Cade let go of her arm, at least having the sense to give her some space.
“Who hit you,” he asked again when she seemed to be calming down.
Obviously, he was not about to let it go.
“No one. I fell.”
“Bullshit,” he said, moving closer. Her eyes met that amazing blue gaze, the bright flecks that danced in its depths reminding her that his wolf roamed just under the surface. Before she could dodge him, he grabbed her T-shirt at the neckline and pulled it to the side. “I suppose you got that in your fall, too?”
She snatched her shoulder back, knocking his hand away. “It doesn’t matter. You came here to talk about my injuries?”
“No, but I want to know who hurt you.”
She shrugged at him, her expression hard. “I’m fine,” she bit out then turned and marched to the cabin.
It was a small building, no bigger than a bedroom, but it scared her. Not the place itself, but the memories that came with it. It was a locked cabinet—the Pandora’s box of her mind. Yet instead of being filled with horrors, it was filled with everything that had ever made her smile.
So many nights spent in there—lying together. So many dark evenings huddled together after a hunt and a run and watching the stars above them, talking about their every single wish and dream. This was the place where she had pretended there was nothing illicit about their relationship … where she had dared to love Cade.
She pushed the door open with trembling hands and couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her. She had expected the place to be covered in dust. To see the bed they had shared become home to wildlife that had found its way in. She expected cobwebs in every corner and the woodwork to have rotted from neglect—yet the bed was fresh, as though someone had just left it days ago, not two years. There was a mug and a paper on the table beside a small stack of books—Cade's calling card.
“You’ve been coming here?” she whispered.
Cade stepped in behind her, his large presence offering comfort that she didn’t want to take. She was still mad at him. She moved away, giving herself the space she needed to breathe. It was too hard when he was that close. He invaded her every sense until she was drunk from it. Once, she would have turned into his embrace. She would have lifted her arms to his neck and stood on her toes to kiss him …
That was gone now.
“I come here to think,” he said quietly, watching her. She let her gaze wander around the room, landing on familiar things, new things … things that were simply Cade. “This is our place,” he continued. “When I am here, I feel like I am home.”
Every inch held a memory. Some of them big, some small, some as mundane as the throw she had spilt coffee on and the mark where a piece of hot coal had flown out of the fire. They were all attached to a train of thought that always went back to Cade. She felt safe here—had felt safe here.
She hugged herself, remembering the last time they were there. They had lain naked together on the bed, the full-term swell of her stomach between them, their hands gently stroking the life inside, delighting as it moved in response to their touches. It had been like Connor was reaching back out to them sometimes.
This was where Cade had whispered promises to their unborn child. Where he, too, had imagined holding his son.
Gemma backed up, rubbing her arms. “I need to go.... I can’t be here. Please … take me home … or Shelley’s.”
His eyes never left her. “Can we talk first?”
“There’s nothing to say.” She inhaled, tilting her head back, giving herself a little respite. But there was no such thing. Above the door were the three coins they had placed there. Two of them they had found while out hunting old coins, and Cade had added a penny from his pocket for Connor. Gemma reached for them now, pulling the coins into her hand and spreading them out. Three wishes. “It isn’t the same anymore,” she said on a shaky breath, closing her fist over them and bringing her focus back onto Cade. “Things change. We’ve changed.” A pause. “You have Natalie now.”
A dark look crossed his features. “You really want her to take your place?”
Of course, he meant on the case, but it didn’t stop the words stinging at the double entendre. Images of Natalie in this cabin tried to pry their way into her mind, but she quashed them instantly. “You have a new life.”
He moved closer, making Gemma move back. “You want me to officially take her as my mate? Go through the Council?”
“You have to,” she said, her voice weak, fighting the lies her mouth was spilling.
“That isn’t what I’m asking.”
She hesitated, her hand clasping the coins tight. “It has to be this way. We don’t have a choice anymore. We … tried.”
His jaw clenched into a tight line. “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”
“It has to be over. You should tell your father that you name her as your potential.” Potential meant that he would take it to the Council, and they would vote on the mating. All mates had to be approved—for breeding and heirs. There was no place for emotional bonding when it came to carrying on lines and packs, especially not for children of the alphas.
Cade narrowed his eyes at her, and she felt the weight of his stare. His gaze pierced right through her. “And what then?” he demanded. “Are you just going to sit back and watch it happen? Not feel a thing?”
Gemma opened her mouth then promptly closed it again. There was no right way to answer that. With a shake of her head, she went to walk past Cade, her intention to head back to the car and just wait for him—but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. When she refused to look up at him, he hooked his finger under her chin so she would meet his eyes. “You want me to leave you alone completely?”
She was determined to do this. Thoughts of Henry sprung into her head. Maybe she could have given in if it were just Council, but now it seemed even more was at stake. “Maybe it is better if you did.”
“You want me to marry Natalie?”
A resounding NO shot through her, but she ignored it. “Yes.”
A tick started to work along his jaw. “What about when she gets pregnant? You want me to have children with her? You can deal with that?”
His words were blows to Gemma’s gut, making it hard to breathe, but she forced herself to stay perfectly still and keep her gaze steady. If this was what he needed to hear in order to go, if this was the only way to save him—by killing herself—she would. She’d do anything for him. “Let me go … please,” she said finally. “Go and have
your children with her if that’s what you want. Make new babies …”
She pulled away from him, trying to walk around him, but he blocked her way.
“Do you think I don’t miss him, too, Gem? Do you think that I will just go and have more children and forget him? That I can get over him? Is that what you believe?”
“You have a new life, Cade—”
“I have a new life because you’re making me. I think about you all the time. I think about Connor every fucking day, and sometimes I can’t breathe from it. He’s in every thought I ever have, every shadow. Every moment of my life since that day, all I can think about is what he would be doing now. How would he look? Would he have your eyes? Your nose? Would he smile like me or like you?” He shook his head, his breathing ragged. “I may not have grown him inside me like you did, but I watched him grow. I felt him move. Don’t you dare make it that I can replace him.”
Gemma’s lip trembled, her eyes welling at his words. “But you will, Cade. You’ll go and you’ll have babies. You’ll have them, and Natalie will bring them into the world alive. Her body won’t fail them. It was meant to be me, but now it’s her. Don’t you—don’t you—” Her words caught in her throat, then uncontrollable sobs tore from her.
She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her, pulling her to him so that her back was pressed against the hard length of his body. He wrapped one big strong arm around her waist and another across her chest, his hold on her unyielding. As she let out a sob and buckled, he continued to hold on tight. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “It wasn’t. I promise you.”
She dug her fingers into his forearm, clinging to him as she wept, her body shaking violently. He buried his face in her hair and let her cry it out. “He was alive inside me. I felt him move,” she whispered when she was finally able to talk.
“I know,” he murmured.
They stood like that for a while, the only sound between them was that of their breathing. Gemma turned in his arms and buried her face in his neck, her fingers clutching the front of his shirt. He held onto her so tight that she felt like he could almost fix what was broken.