by J. Kearston
Bane barks out a laugh beside me as Stryker defends, “We need somewhere to go until the insurance money is deposited! Hotels are great and all, but they’re expensive and not a good long term solution. It’s silly to blow that much money when we need to not only buy a new house, but everything to furnish it. Sure, we could pull from Bane’s inheritance, but my gods, have you seen the fees they tack on going over the monthly payouts? It’d be pissing money away unnecessarily.”
Grinning, I lean forward, kissing his shoulder before Bane pulls me back, tightening my seatbelt with a scowl on his face. “I’m looking forward to meeting your great-grandma, don’t listen to Mason. You sure she won’t mind us staying there for a little while?”
As we reach a stoplight, he quickly looks at me, visibly softening. “She will be over the moon to meet you and jump at the chance to keep you there as long as possible just to interrogate you and get caught up on all of the gossip. I wouldn’t be surprised if she already has a room set up on the off chance we ever stop by.” His face falls, looking ten times guiltier than he has all morning. “I don’t visit nearly as often as I should. So thank you for being so upbeat about this.”
Leaning into Bane’s side as the sugar crash starts to hit me, I yawn, knowing we have at least another hour before we get there, so I have time to doze off. “My pleasure. My grandparents died before I was born, and my parents were only children, so I’ve never had the extended family experience. It’ll be nice to steal yours now that we’re apparently married, or whatever shifters call it. Mated?”
Bane’s fingers play over the side of my neck as I use his shoulder for a pillow, exhaustion slamming into me hard all of a sudden, taking the wind out of my sails after my tirade. “Either phrase works.”
“Do you guys not have to do paperwork to make this sort of thing official?”
Three scoffs surround me as Stryker answers, “I don’t need a piece of paper to know you’re mine.”
I chuckle, eyes closing. “Then what’s to stop someone else from deciding the same thing? Some random badger could show up and claim I’m his mate, too.”
There aren’t any complaints or growls, just silence so absolute you could hear a pin drop. Uneasily, I open my eyes to find Stryker white-knuckling the wheel.
“No.” Is all that Mason says, like that resolves everything.
I raise an eyebrow. “No, what?”
He turns, eyes glacial. “No one would be that stupid. Can you imagine walking into a den of wolves, deciding their mate was yours now, and walking out of there alive?” He shakes his head. “That’s just not how it works among shifters. Now, if you’d claimed you were being held against your will, that’s another matter entirely, and likely several packs would join forces to help put down the offending party, but simply stating that you accept our claim as truth is enough.”
They’re all still worked up, so rather than point out what nonsense half of their systems are, I just nestle into Bane’s side again, ready for a nap. “So, Stryker, do you have any more family besides Great-Grandma Rosalie?”
More tense silence surrounds me before he flippantly states, “Nope. Not many people can survive that woman’s wrath, after all. Now get some sleep, Risa. Trust me, you’re going to need it.”
Chapter 15
Stryker
“Ow! Gigi, what the hell?” I flinch away from smacks that are way too strong for a woman in her nineties.
Her snow white hair is pulled back into a braid nearly as long as she is tall, only a few inches shorter than Risa. Her eyes are the same shade of green as mine, and right now, they’re narrowed on my face as she takes another swat at me.
“Three weeks and no phone call. I was hoping you were dead in a ditch somewhere so that you at least had an excuse, yet here you are, right as rain,” she snaps, hitting me once more before wrapping me in a bone-crushing embrace. “You’re lucky I wasn’t dead in my chair when you found me.”
I hug her back, her peppermint scent bringing up far too many memories, making each visit harder than the last in recent years when I’ve been in a bit of a downward spiral. “Sorry, Gigi.”
She huffs, hugging me tighter before finally releasing me, patting my chest as she turns to the others. “Well, I can’t be too mad now that I see what’s kept you so distracted, can I?” Leaning heavily on her cane, she approaches Risa, currently nestled between Bane and Mason near the door. “Now let’s get a better look at you, shall we?”
Sending a nervous glance my way, Risa steps closer, and Gigi Rosalie wastes no time snatching her wrist, closing the distance when she deems she’s taking too long. She scans Risa head to toe before tossing her cane at Bane to hold, knowing he’ll catch it. Flipping Risa’s hand to bare her palm, Gigi traces over the lines and mutters to herself, running a finger down the vein at Risa’s wrist. I share a worried look with the others, wondering if she’s somehow able to see right through to the fact that Risa’s... different.
But she simply swivels so that her arm is interlocked with Risa’s elbow, using her for support and patting her hand a few times. “Come sit, come sit. Stryker can get the tea going while we chat. I wish I’d known you all were coming, I’d have tidied up. Only get one first impression when meeting your son’s mate.”
Risa shoots me a confused look, and I shake my head, mouthing ‘later’ while walking towards the kitchen. “Who says she’s my mate?” I counter, only because it’s fun to rile up the woman I spent so many years convinced was a witch, always seeing right through me. “Found her on the side of the road and she just hasn’t left.”
She scoffs with derision, rounding the corner out of sight and hollering back, “Who else would put up with you besides me? You found your other two mates in the woods like a damn creep, so of course you’d snatch a pretty thing like her the same way. You should come with a warning label, I’m telling ya.”
Grinning, I make quick work of the tea, meeting everyone back in the living room with a heavily laden tray. Setting it on the coffee table, I pass a bottle of water to Mason, ignoring the disapproving shake of Gigi’s head at the sight, but even she’s never been able to find a flavor Mason can stand. Risa’s sitting beside my great-grandma on the loveseat, Mason and Bane in the available chairs, so I steal a chair from the dining room. I’d prefer not to sit on the floor feeling smaller than everyone in the room, knowing it’ll dredge up the wrong feelings for what’s supposed to be a happy occasion.
“So.“ Gigi claps her hands and Risa jumps, startled at the sharp sound. “Tell me everything. Last I heard, we were waiting for sleeping beauty here to wake up.” She glares at me while reaching for the teapot to pour herself a cup. “It must have taken a hell of a long time, otherwise you’d have called to let me know that you met the love of your life.”
Chagrined, I rub the back of my head. “Sorry.”
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “So, how long did it take?”
I flip her off with a smile, well aware of what she’s really asking. “Moment I bit her, but knew for sure when she tackled me down the stairs.” Waggling my eyebrows at Risa, I tease, “First thing she did when she woke up was take a swing at Bane and throw herself into my arms, picking favorites on day one. Who wouldn’t become obsessed?”
Risa’s chest shakes with silent laughter as Gigi cackles. I wait until she takes a sip of her tea before giving the abridged version to bring her up to speed, but if Rosalie Cromwell respects anything, it’s the truth; no matter how harsh, or if it’s something you’d rather not hear. She punches her problems in the face, looking at hiding in your delusions and denials as a fool’s errand that solves nothing.
She sees right through the parts that I attempt to skim over, forcing me to back up enough times that I just cave and tell her everything, including our theory about why Risa can’t shift. I glance at my mate, pleading for forgiveness, but she simply sits through it all with a small smile, amused at watching this little, old woman bully me into submission.
The entire p
ot of tea is gone by the time she’s caught up, and she simply stares at me as if waiting for something. When I don’t pick up on her hint, she mocks, “And what about you, Rosalie? What have you been up to these days while waiting for death to save you from the never ending boredom?”
Mason chuckles, twisting the cap back on his water bottle. “I forgot how much I enjoyed coming here.”
Gigi snorts. “Can’t blame you for choosing to spend your time with a sweet girl like this instead of an old bat like me.” She turns to face Risa, a sad look of understanding on her face. “Your parents ever try to contact you after you left?”
She grimaces. “Didn’t give them the opportunity. Apartment was in Blake’s name, and the club was a cash gig. Honestly, I’m happier cutting them off like this. If I’d stuck around to give them a chance to explain, I’ve no doubt they’d have manipulated me into feeling bad for them; it’s just the sort of people they are. If it wasn’t for the clean break, they’d have just dragged me back into their psychotic mess.”
Gigi nods, cupping Risa’s cheek. “You’re a smart girl for realizing that so young after all they’d put you through. Some people always need to be the victim, and don’t care who they hurt so long as they stay the center of attention.” Her eyes cut to me. “To flex their control over people to make themselves feel stronger.”
My jaw tightens as I shake my head imperceptibly in warning. She raises an eyebrow in challenge, unperturbed, and it’s what I love and hate most about this old crone. She isn’t scared of anyone or anything, and will gladly stand her ground on even the most trivial matters out of sheer stubbornness.
She drops it for now, but I know she’s just going to keep steering the conversation back in that direction. I understand her reasoning even if I hate it. Nothing kills a relationship faster than secrets, especially new ones, and the longer things go, the worse the fallout. This may not be exactly the same case, but the fundamentals are the same.
This entire world is new to Risa, and we’re the only ones that she can rely on. If she feels like we’re keeping things from her, she’s going to feel betrayed, wondering what else we aren’t sharing. We can’t outright lie, but we can omit, and I don’t want her starting to doubt the things we tell her, analyzing them for elusive wording.
Gods fucking damn it.
Gigi’s eyes sparkle, like she had a front row seat to my mental word vomit, watching me circle back around to exactly where she wanted me. She’s always ten steps ahead of me; has been since I was a kid. Worse, she’s damn near always right. I usually can’t see the importance behind the trivial things until it’s too late, but I’ve learned it’s not worth her smug looks when I ignore her out of spite and end up paying the price.
“Risa.”
She turns to face me as I fidget in my seat, trying to muster up the courage to talk about it, unable to find a less abrupt segue into the conversation. At this point, though, I just want to spit it out as quickly as possible so that I can go back to forgetting any of it ever happened.
“My parents sucked, too.” I swallow, nervously strumming my fingers on my knee. “Beat the shit out of me, locked me in the closet until I was completely healed so no one would suspect. Could set my clock by it; Friday’s after school were the worst, spent the weekend healing, and it was hit or miss if I made it to school on Mondays.”
Taking a deep breath, I lean forward, clasping my hands together and resting my elbows on my thighs. As my foot starts tapping, I focus on the empty tea cups on the coffee table instead of anyone’s face. “And then they went on a bender and forgot they left me in there.”
Gigi cuts in when she sees I’m about to lock up, her voice as frigid as her murderous glare. “Two weeks. The school waited to reach out to me until their second grader had been absent for two weeks, asking if they’d moved and was okay with donating what was left behind in his desk.”
She scoffs. “I hopped in my car, drove the ten hour trip in seven, and showed up at my grandsons’ door. Broke the window to get in when no one answered, and found the tiniest snake curled in on himself behind the bolted closet door, the inside scratched to high hell from how long he spent trying to claw his way out.”
I shut my eyes, focusing on taking slow breaths, finding it ten times harder to hear her tell the story than it was to talk about it. The phantom feeling of my fingers raw and bleeding keeps me from being able to speak, to face the mate that I swore I’d protect when I couldn’t even save myself, and still haven’t, not really. Even all of these years later, my parents still haunt me, have ruined me so that I can barely function normally.
“And I waited,” she continues, a cruel edge creeping into her tone. “When my grandsons and their mate returned the next night, I tore the three of them apart, left everything behind so he could start over fresh, and took Stryker home with me. Didn’t shift back from his viper for three months.”
Licking my chapped lips, I croak, “And when my grandparents got in her face, demanding she fork me over to them, she killed them too.”
I risk a glance up, a satisfied look on Gigi’s face. “That was the day he finally came back to me.”
Swallowing again, I clear my throat. “Because you were the only person that had ever actually fought for me... even though it meant killing your only son.”
Risa sniffs, and Gigi tuts; fussing over her and using her knuckles to brush away the tears on my mate’s face. “Now that’s enough of that. You’ll understand, though, that I had to confirm what sort of person you were if I’m going to be entrusting my only family into your hands. If you hadn’t reacted to a story like that, I’m not sure what I would’ve done.” She leans in, kissing her temple. “I don’t have too much fight left in these old bones, so someone else needs to be ready to protect my baby.”
Swiping at her damp face, Risa sheepishly reminds her, “I can’t shift, so not really some badass protector. Honestly, the only thing I’m good for is some liquid bandage to keep on tap and patch him back up.”
Gigi tosses her head back with obnoxious laughter. “Oh, my sweet girl, there are so many ways to save a person without getting your hands dirty. You let these boys keep you safe, and you save them from themselves; gods know they need all of the help they can get.” She gestures for Bane to pass her cane over, getting to her feet. “Once caught Mason over here playing with matches in the dark like a little psycho, so keep a keen eye on that one.”
Risa frowns. “I thought he didn’t meet the others until he was an adult?”
Mason groans, looking up at the ceiling while the rest of us laugh. “It was a couple of years ago, and I have told you a thousand times, Rosalie, that I was relighting the stove. You drowned that thing when you were cleaning it; it’s a miracle the ancient thing still even functions.”
Gigi shares a conspiratorial look with Risa. “See what I mean? You’ve got enough work on your plate as it is with these hot messes, so don’t stress over the fact that you can’t shift. You have three men throwing themselves at your feet willing to protect and take care of you; it’d be stupid to ignore that and get yourself killed over something as petty as trying to prove something to yourself out of stubbornness.
“You don't have to tear someone’s throat out to prove that you’re strong, sweetheart; you already have by fighting hard enough to be standing here today. Relying on people and utilizing each other’s strengths is smart, not a sign of weakness, and I can genuinely say that you’re a bigger asset than you give yourself credit for, simply by being you.”
She pats her cheek before walking my way. “While the three of them get the guest bedroom situated, how about you take me for a stroll around the garden for old times’ sake?”
Looking at the others guiltily, Bane waves me off. “We’ve got it under control.” He can’t hide the sad look that crosses his face before he conceals it. “Go spend some time with Rosalie.”
It’s like a punch in the gut, seeing the blatant longing and to know his mind has turned back to find
ing his grandpa dead a few years ago, to wish he had just a little more time with him. Feeling like shit for not calling in recent weeks, it’s a real wake-up call that everything can change in an instant, and not always for the better. I’ve been wasting time that I can never get back because I’d rather avoid the elephant in the room than face it head on.
And she raised me better than that.
Offering my arm, we slowly make our way out to the massive backyard. Each house in this remote area sits on at least an acre of land, a good cushion between houses and plenty of room to run in the forest that sweeps across the far edge of everyone’s property. Together, but apart; close enough that you know you aren’t alone while still having the illusion of solitude.
Gigi’s yard is immaculate, her gardener clearly gunning for a raise. The stone path from the house that snakes around the property is lined with assorted flowers in full bloom, not a weed in sight. She looks over it all wistfully, and my stomach twists with guilt.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I was scared to tell you that I might have messed up turning her and ruined her life, that admitting Risa couldn’t shift would make it real when I was still clinging to hope that I was wrong.” We take another curve and I glance her way subtly, seeing if she’s holding up well walking this far.
Pausing to run her fingers reverently over the petals of a lily, she asks, “Do you love her less because she’s defective?”
The shock has me lost for words for a moment. She’s always been blunt, but she’s never really been an outright dick.
“She’s not defective, she’s a better person than any of us. I’m scared because it means that she doesn’t have that extra line of defense, and in this world, people are cruel far more often than they’re kind. They look for any source of light and goodness, determined to snuff it out, and Risa’s a dang beacon. We can’t be around her every second of her life, and it scares the shit out of me thinking something might happen to her.”