The Wildflower Series

by Rachelle Mills

  “Nice names.”

  “The kids.” As if that says everything.

  “Rya is the one with the Moon’s eyes, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She starts with the top of my head now. Everything is coming off.

  “Hazel, thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. You paid me. We had a transaction, nothing more than that. You needed some help with whatever is inside your head, and I was able to do community service and make some money on the side.” She takes another sip, longer this time.

  “You’re going to be all right, Cash.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I know wolves, and I think you’re going to be just fine.”

  “I feel all right. Not like before her, but I feel all right for the first time in a long time.” The hair on my head is now buzzed low; she used a number three setting on me.

  “Tommie’s a liar. You are worth every penny.”

  “Tommie does that to show me he cares. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t say anything to anyone.” Hazel takes a straight razor out of a package.

  “I’m not sure. To me, he doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

  Hazel waves her hand in the air. “It’s an act.”

  “I’m not sure. He seems real.”

  “It’s only because I touch his stuff on purpose. I like to get under his skin. It’s easy to do, and it’s fun to sit back and listen to his threats.” She laughs, and it sounds lonely echoing off the walls of the bathroom.

  “He threatens you?” My shoulders straighten up.

  “He told me he’s going to spank me. That’s his threat. He’s harmless, all teeth no real bite, plus I deserve it a little. I was shit to him when he was younger. He was really small growing up, and he kissed me once, and I laughed at him. I think that had a lasting impression on him, plus now, I take his weed. Tommie and his weed are like some sort of sacred thing.” Her eyes are leveled and clear for how much alcohol she’s consumed.

  “Tommie has some issues. His mate rejected him and is raising the pups of the Alpha as her own and won’t leave them to go with Tommie. He’s had a rough time with that, plus he’s back from school and he really doesn’t fit in with the pack. He was picked on a lot when he was younger, really bad, actually. I should have done something, but I didn’t.”

  “Tommie seems like he can take care of himself now.”

  “He can now, but before…nope. He didn’t grow until college, then he came back looking like some model that could kick almost anyone’s ass. He has the best weed. Do you smoke?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad. It helps with the edges.”

  “How long has it been for you?”

  “For me?” She stiffens.

  “Without your mate.”

  “Wolf, I don’t talk about that.” She bristles up, and all her lines become hard and straightened out. It’s as if a big Do Not Disturb sign hangs from her neck.

  There is a pause between us. It lets me know we are strangers.

  She watches me shave my face. I really look at myself in the mirror. It’s been so long since I’ve seen me that it takes a few hard minutes to realize this is my face and it’s okay to see myself again.

  When I’m done, she inspects the finished product. “You’re not that bad, Cash. Cleaned up, you aren’t that bad at all.” She gives me a toothy smile, her eyes lingering everywhere before looking away.

  “Thanks.”

  “I have a ten o’clock tonight, so I need to get ready.” She turns on the tap and washes her hands, looks at her teeth.

  “Do you like what you do?”

  “It’s a job that pays the bills. I’ve met some nice men, some not so nice. They get something, I get something. The end, but sometimes I meet wolves like you who need a wolf like me to make it all right to move on. There’s less guilt if you pay for it the first time than actually doing it because you want to fuck someone. Guilt is like a noose. It hangs you after a while.”

  “I wanted to say goodbye to her.”

  “Saying goodbye and wanting to fuck someone else is the same thing, isn’t it? Do you have someone else you want to fuck, Cash? This is your guilt-free goodbye. You pay me money, and you go back to your pack a new wolf without guilt. I’ve taken off the noose around your neck. You won’t choke on yourself anymore. You’ve gotten your goodbye, your head’s shaved, and right now, I enjoy what I do.”

  “You’re a good wolf, Hazel.”

  She holds a finger up. “Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to maintain.” She says her words through that lonely smile that doesn’t spread as wide as it could.

  We both look at my face in the mirror, silent, inspecting the reflection that’s staring back.

  “You look good, Cash.”

  “I feel better.” Running my hand over my head, over my clean face, the kids are going to freak out. I can’t stop the small laugh that comes out as a breath.

  Picking up my bag, standing at the door, we don’t hug goodbye after I pay her for her service. She takes the money, and I close the door behind me.

  Letter 14

  Cash,

  We sat on the swing yesterday, gliding back and forth. I think we both wanted to talk, but neither of us could. I have all these words to say to you, but when you’re around me, everything seems stuck.

  You started talking about the weather, how it’s a nice day today. I agreed. Then you moved to food, and I said I wasn’t hungry. You told me I looked pretty, and I called you a liar. You said you were trying, and I said stop.

  You walked away, and I started to cry because there was nothing more that I wanted to do than sit there with you on the swing and talk about the weather, about food, about how you thought I was pretty.

  I wanted to ask you how you thought I was pretty when all I am is ugly to you? How could you look at me and think, she’s pretty? It’s easier for us if I stay ugly, Cash. It’s easier for everyone if I stay this wolf that no one likes that way. In the end, no one will care that I’m gone, even you.

  We sacrifice for love, don’t we? My sacrifice is staying ugly when all I want to do now is tell you that the weather is good, the food is wonderful, and your face is beautiful. I want to touch your face, I want to feel your lips, I wanted to hold hands with you on that swing. I wanted to ask what attracted you to me. I can tell you I love your back, Cash. You have a nice back, and your arms are strong. Every time you move, I can see your triceps flex; it’s a turn-on for me. Arms.

  I notice you wear a lot of layers, a lot. Two shirts, a belt, underwear, jeans, even a few rings. You won’t get undressed in front of me. You’re very private now. Even in front of your family, you have all these layers that you wrap yourself in.

  I’ve made you uncomfortable in your own skin. I’m not even sure you realize it. I do; I realize everything. I’m sorry for that. There is nothing I’d like more than to touch you and tell you how I have this need now to touch your body. I want your hands on me, over me, and when we are in bed together back to back, it takes all my willpower not to turn around and try to hold you.

  I was afraid I could never love someone the way I loved Clayton, but Cash, I could have loved you more. If things were different, I could have loved you more.

  Kennedy

  Chapter 15

  Letters in the Right Hand

  Green eyes meet mine when the door opens.

  “You know it’s daytime, right?” Clayton states an obvious fact.

  “I know.”

  “Well, come in. I made some soup.” He holds the door open wider for me to go in. He hasn’t changed the inside of this house since Rya lived here. Everything is exactly the same. There is a single bowl on the table, a spoon placed next to it.

  “I see you cut your hair.” Clayton doesn’t face me. He’s getting another bowl from the cupboard and a spoon out of the drawer. He ladles the soup from a pot that’s still simmering on the stove.

  “I did.” I sit down across fro
m him. He places the bowl in front of me.

  The package in my hand is placed on the table; this is the last time I touch those letters.

  Clayton spoons some soup in his mouth, watching me. I do the same. “This is good soup.”

  “Everything’s from my garden.”

  “Rya makes a good soup.” Once the words are out, Clayton hesitates to swallow what’s on his spoon. It’s held for a moment longer before he swallows it down, and he starts to stir the broth in the bowl.

  “Why are you here, Cash?” Clayton puts his spoon down. Elbows on the table, hands folding like a prayer.

  “Do you have anything of Kennedy’s left?”

  “I told you before, everything of hers was burned. I don’t have anything left.”

  The broth is warm with chunks of soft vegetables in it. I take a few more bites.

  “Do you remember Kennedy?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I remember her. How can I forget her?” His voice is crisp.

  “She was afraid you wouldn’t remember her.” Clayton looks out the window before rubbing at his eyes. It doesn’t stop the tears that start to leak out.

  “This isn’t easy, Cash.” Clayton’s not looking at me. He’s concentrating on the soup bowl.

  “She loved you, she didn’t love me, and that’s not your fault. The minute I came here was the minute you let her go. I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything.”

  Clayton’s fingers feel the top of his shaved head, but he doesn’t look at me. His shoulders curl around the table. He’s still crying, silently.

  “We were young. No one could tell us anything. We were the ones that were going to make it. Beat the mate bond.” He rubs his hands together before weaving his fingers tight. He breathes out slowly, picking his head up.

  “In the beginning, I wanted to keep her for myself. I thought we could fight the bond together. The things I did to keep us together.” I see his jaw grind at his back molars. He doesn’t look at me but out the window. I can’t eat the rest of my soup, so I lay the spoon next to the bowl.

  “We hurt a lot of wolves, Kennedy and me. A lot. Now she’s gone and I’m left here.” He looks around the table. It’s empty. Everything inside feels shrine-like empty, hollow even.

  “I brought you letters. I wish I could say I didn’t read every single one. I did. I wish I didn’t.” I push the package to the middle of the table. He doesn’t move to take them. He just stares with his head down.

  “I got the twins, and now you have her letters.”

  “Thank you, Cash.” Again the palms of his hands push into his eyes.

  “I need to thank you for your patience with me. I made it difficult for you. I’m sorry about showing up any time I wanted on your territory. You could have killed me. You didn’t.” My turn to look down at the bowl of soup.

  “Your family has been kind to me, too kind. I just couldn’t do that to them. Plus there were times that I wanted to go to your pack unannounced and talk with Dallas.” His eyes dilate, his nose flares, and his spine straightens.

  “Don’t do that. Dallas will fucking kill you.”

  “I’m not afraid of Dallas. I wouldn’t do that to Rya. That’s why I won’t go. Plus it wouldn’t change anything. She has a life, a family. It wouldn’t change anything.” He lets the rest of the air out of his lungs, and his eyes meet mine.

  “I’m not going to be coming back here when I leave. I want you to know that. I’m done.”

  “Good, because there is nothing left for you here. You have everything where you live. This place is only filled with ghosts, nothing more. And ghosts aren’t real.” Clayton pushes away another tear.

  “We were breaking up. That’s the sad part. We weren’t going to be the ones to make it. What we did, what I did, was for nothing. When Rya came back, I couldn’t fight it. The Wild wouldn’t tolerate Kennedy around him anymore. I loved her, I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t fight the bond to Rya. I told Kennedy everything. She didn’t understand.” Clayton picks up his bowl and mine, putting them in the sink. He stands there with hands clenched around the edges.

  “I still love her. I’m sorry, but even after everything, I still love Kennedy, and she won’t be forgotten.” His edges blur with a few shedding tears that I wipe quickly away. It doesn’t hurt as much to hear him say it.

  Grief-stricken eyes fall on mine when he turns himself around. Something burns up my throat.

  “I could have loved Kennedy more.” Clayton stays silent, his lips pressing hard together.

  “Do you need anything else, Cash?”

  “Nope, I think I’m done here,” I reply, standing.

  “Good.” Clayton goes to the back door and opens it.

  A bee flies in, and Clayton is quick to shoo it back outside. “I have a beehive over there, and they always want to come inside.”

  I look in the direction he’s pointing, and the entire backyard is something even Rya would be impressed with. A garden from a magazine stares back at me.

  “You’ve got a nice garden.”

  “Thanks, it gives me something to do, and my little sister sells the produce at our stand down the road. It gives her a little extra cash.”

  There’s a pause from him before he lets the screen door close.

  “Thanks for bringing the letters.”

  “They’re yours. I just couldn’t bring them sooner.”

  “I understand.”

  “I always thought you didn’t understand, but I know you do.”

  “I do understand.” His voice is rough, dragging up his throat to come out slightly mumbled. He takes a slow breath in.

  “I just need to put this all away now. It’s time for me to give those letters up.”

  “Is it easy?”

  “Easy?”

  “To put it all away.”

  My stomach twists. “No, it’s not easy.”

  “Uncle Clay.” A pup runs with arms spread as fast as he can into the now-open arms of Clayton.

  “Max.” The pup is tossed high in the air, only to be caught and given a hug with nose nudges into his neck before he puts him down on the ground.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “Coming.” The pup runs to the dock; it looks new.

  That island is easy to see from here. It sits solitary, surrounded by water.

  “Can we go for a canoe ride, Uncle Clay?”

  “Did you eat yet?”

  “No.”

  “Eat first, then we can go.” The pup jumps up and runs with his arms pumping into the house.

  “Clay, we’re all out of tomatoes and onions.” Kimberly freezes when she sees me then looks into the house with teeth bared.

  “Clayton.”

  “It’s okay, Cash is leaving. He had to drop something off for me.”

  Kimberly looks weary, fists clenched as if she’s ready to fight me again. She’s an overprotective little sister who will stand tall with her brother, no matter if she’s going to bleed from it.

  “Hi, Kimberly.” I shove my hands deep in my pockets. No threat. No teeth. No more fighting.

  “Hi, Cash.” I think this is the first time we have ever said hi to the other.

  “Max is getting big.” She smiles when I say this. It’s not a big smile, just something simple that pulls at her edges.

  “He is.” She’s still wary but has settled her ridge fur down.

  “So what’s going on? You guys are friends now?” She looks at Clayton and me.

  “No,” both of us say at the same time.

  “I won’t be back. I just wanted to drop off something and I’m gone.” I can tell her eyes don’t believe me.

  “Goodbye.” I turn toward Clayton.

  “Bye, Cash.”

  We don’t hug; we don’t shake hands. I just turn and walk away with a promise not to come back here. Ever.

  Letter 15

  Dear Clayton,

  I don’t know how many times I start this and stopped. Nothi
ng seems right. I don’t know where to begin. So I want to begin with I love you.

  I’ve always loved you. Only you. No one else.

  I painted a picture of our Island, how I remember it. I want you to have it.

  That was the best time of my life. I’m not sure anything can compare to that spot, that place, who we were there.

  The first time we went there alone was when we were eight and made a fort in the pines. Do you remember that? We had a fire and pretended that’s where we lived. When we were older, it became our refuge from the world, our parents, on that island. That’s the first place we kissed; it’s the first place we gave ourselves to each other.

  I’ve been remembering so much about that island. It was ours; no one can take that time away from us. No one.

  I feel as if I am sinking, drowning, and all that I can hold onto now is the memory of our island. I feel guilty having his pups inside me and not ours.

  I feel guilty for wanting him and that you are becoming a memory on an island that I can’t stop thinking about. This is so screwed up, but I know what you were talking about now about the bond. It’s hard to look away even when you want to. It’s hard to fight against it.

  Our love was never meant to leave bite marks and bruises in other wolves’ skin, but it did, didn’t it? I was selfish, Clayton. So very very selfish to try and keep your love all to myself.

  I thought by having Kimberly have a pup that our love would stay just between you and me. I was wrong about that. So very wrong. You told me pups weren’t important to you, and I cried and told you how important they were to me. I put your sister in danger and that wasn’t love, was it?

  In the end, our love hurts everyone, including ourselves.

  I’m dying, Clayton. I can feel myself every day slipping away. I’m tired and don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to do anything but close my eyes and rest for a while. You might think it’s selfish that the twins will grow up without a mother, but I think it’s selfless to give them a chance in this life without someone like me. My love is poison. It made me do things I never thought I’d do for love.

  You tried to tell me about the bond, but I wouldn’t listen to you. I thought you could fight harder against it; I thought you were stronger. I had faith in you, and you tried to tell me, but I was selfish because I couldn’t let you go.