But nothing could bring back the bright, loving parents he’d thought he once had. Maybe once the divorce was finalized they’d realize what they’d done to him, but Jim wasn’t about to hold his breath. No child should have to go through what Jim was, no matter what their age.
So he fought the only battle he could, knowing he wouldn’t win no matter which way he went. “Spencer is my family, Mother, and that’s the end of it.”
He should have been surprised when she hung up on him, but sadly it was an all-too-common occurrence these days. Both of them expected him to pick sides. When he tried to be fair, to treat each of them equally, he got crap like this in return.
Some days he wished he could bring himself to ignore the ringing phone, or stop wishing that it was his father instead of his mother. Just once, he wished they’d tell him that everything would be all right rather than leaving him to deal with all of this shit on his own.
At least Spencer seemed to be getting through to Chloe. His brother was holding Chloe’s hand, and she was nodding sympathetically.
Perhaps, just perhaps, instead of trying to cling to the old, he needed to get started on the new. It was time to make his own damn family, and to hell with his parents. Let them deal with their own shit-storm. He was going to concentrate on Chloe and Spencer and the rest of the people he loved. They’d be the family he’d been missing for so long.
Jim stepped into Wallflowers, fully expecting to be greeted with smiles. What he got was—
“Oof.” Jim laughed as Emma practically jumped him. “Hey, pretty girl.”
A pissed-off yip came from the couch.
“You are such a good boy, Jimbo.” Emma pinched his cheeks. “Yes you are. Oh, yes you are.”
Jim laughed and shoved her off of him. “Knock it off.”
Becky shook her head at them while Sheri simply smiled serenely, well used to Emma’s madness by now.
Their reactions weren’t the ones that interested him, though. It was Chloe, who still sat holding on to Spencer, whose opinion truly mattered. “Chloe?”
“Tell me.” She stared at him, her eyes reddish-brown, her tone clipped.
He maneuvered past Emma, kneeling next to Chloe’s chair until they were eye-to-eye. Her Fox was close to the surface, driving his Wolf to respond. His vision blurred, Chloe’s brilliant red hair becoming a muted yellowish-brown. He’d known that canines were unable to see reds or greens, but until his eyes first changed he hadn’t realized how it could impact his world.
He loved Chloe’s red hair.
“Spencer filled you in on what’s wrong with him?”
She nodded. “And I’m sorry about that, but I’m not sure what this has to do with you and me.”
He ran his fingers nervously through his hair. Here was the rough part, the part where he worried she wouldn’t be able to forgive him. “We thought he was dying.”
“And?” Her eyes went wide. “Oh. This happened right around the time—”
“When you were in the hospital, yes.” Even worse, at the time he’d still believed her not only too young for him, but pining for another man. That was a discussion for another day, though. “I’d just found him, and we thought he was dying. Everything I heard was that you were here, you were unconscious but stable, and the best of the best was working on you.”
“While I had no one.” Spencer’s tone was soft, but even now he didn’t sound sorry for himself. Spencer was far too comfortable in his skin to ever display sorrow over his situation. “Jim stepped in when no one else wanted anything to do with me, including my sperm donor.”
Jim smiled wryly. “I hate to say it but I’m beginning to think of him that way too.”
The brothers shared a sympathetic glance before Jim gave his attention once more to Chloe. “So. Once my parents figured out I was helping Spencer, they both freaked and demanded I stay away from him.”
“Yeah, the sperm donor even went so far as to call and threaten me. Said he’d cut Jim off if I didn’t drive him away.”
Jim glared at Spencer. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Spencer shrugged. “It didn’t matter.” That cheeky, lovable grin crossed his face. “Besides, you would have ignored me if I’d tried.”
“True.”
“Worse, it happened.” Spencer tightened his grip on Chloe’s hand when she tried to pull away. “His father stopped speaking to him months ago, and his mother? She’s kind of…well…”
Jim shrugged fatalistically. “Rage-tastic?”
“Status Dramaticus?”
He frowned as he tried to come up with another one. It was a game they played, both of them enjoying the play on words. “E-vil-gelical?
Spencer tapped his finger on his chin. “She likes to go mid-evil on your ass.”
Jim rolled his eyes at that one. “That was bad.”
“I try.”
“Next time she calls you’ll just have to grim and bear it.” Chloe blinked innocently. Whether the misspoken word was meant or not, Jim chose to believe it was. She was playing their game.
Spencer sighed happily. “I like her. Can we keep her?”
“Do I get a say in it?” Chloe tried to pull free once more, but Spencer was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he wanted Chloe for Jim.
His poor mate didn’t stand a chance.
“Nope.” Jim stood, holding out his hand. “So, take a walk with me?”
“Wait. Hold up there.” Spencer let go of Chloe. “You’re leaving me in estrogen central?”
“Why do guys keep calling it that?” Emma tilted her head, her ponytail brushing her shoulder.
“I don’t get it,” Becky added.
Sheri chuckled. “I do, but I’m not telling.”
Jim ignored the playful banter between the three women and pulled Chloe to her feet. Like Emma Cannon didn’t know exactly what men thought when they entered Wallflowers for the first time. “Come on. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Chloe glared at him but took his hand. “I mill haven’t decided if I forbid you yet.”
“I know. But are you willing to give me the chance to earn your forgiveness?” He didn’t know what he’d do if she said no. Probably become some sort of creepy stalker she’d need a restraining order and some wolfsbane pepper spray to get rid of.
She nodded slowly, her expression almost reluctant. “I can try.”
“Good.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.
The color that flooded her cheeks made him grin. He loved that she blushed so easily. He had so much to learn about his mate, so much that he’d let slide by him. Now that Spencer was home, he could concentrate on fixing the mistakes he’d made with Chloe, starting now.
And if she wouldn’t let him, well…
Wolves were very good at stalking their prey.
Chapter Three
Chloe couldn’t believe it. She was walking down the street with her mate, her hand held tightly in his. The quick little glances he kept sending her, as if he expected her to run if he loosened his grip, were oddly reassuring. He was making it clear he wanted her right where she was.
Chloe blew out a breath and tried to steady herself. She was so nervous she was afraid she might not be able to speak, and her left hand kept twitching uncontrollably.
“How’s the speech therapy going?”
Chloe startled. They’d been walking in silence for so long she’d sort of expected it to continue that way. “I’m trying to burn to slow my beach down, but it’s harder than it creams.” She sighed wearily, wondering how Jim would take her garbled speech.
“Take your time. I won’t rush you.” Another quick glance. “Your speech is barely slurred.”
“It was glad in the beginning, but it’s gotten a slot better.”
Jim stopped and turned toward her,
forcing her to halt as well. “I want you to do what your therapist said, and slow down a bit. All right? I’m listening, and I know what you’re trying to say.”
Chloe once again tried to relax. Jim smiled sympathetically, but that didn’t help at all. “I…” She frowned, the words lost for a second. Sometimes it was almost worse when she tried to concentrate. It was as if she could feel the words slipping and sliding through her mind, hiding from her. “I’m. Still. Hungry.”
Jim laughed. “You didn’t get to finish your sandwich, did you?” He began walking again. “Let’s hit Frank’s, and we can talk some more.”
“Yay.” Chloe grimaced. Her family might put up with her weirdness, but she doubted Jim would for long.
“You don’t want to talk to me?”
She blew out a frustrated breath, the words sliding away again. “No.” She shook her head. “Yes.”
Jim lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. While her Fox was doing the Snoopy dance, her head was telling her that at some point he’d pull away again. A one-eighty like this couldn’t last, could it?
They entered Frank’s Diner. Jim put his arm around her shoulders and began maneuvering them through the lunchtime crowd.
“My valance is fine.”
Jim blinked, but it didn’t take him very long to figure out what she was trying to say. “Oh. Balance? I know.”
“Then why are you holding me?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Because I want to.”
Before she could respond they were at a booth. She slid into the seat, and Jim took the one across from her. “So.” She picked up one of the rolled napkin and silverware thingies and began to unravel it, picking the napkin apart into tiny little pieces. “Spencer.”
He nodded. “My father had an affair with a woman living in Chicago. When she became pregnant, he abandoned her. She was a single mom with no support from him or the rest of her family, and she was too proud to go after a married father for child support. She raised Spencer on her own and did a damn fine job of it.”
“That stucks.” Chloe didn’t know what she would do if she lost her family.
“Yeah, it does. When she died, Spencer reached out to my father, who told him to basically go to hell. When I found out about it, I decided to meet him.”
“Why?” Chloe would have done the same thing, but she wanted to hear his reasons from his own lips.
“Why did I want to meet him, or why did my dad not want to?”
“You,” Chloe replied softly.
“Because he’s family.” Jim shrugged. “My mother found out about Spencer and flipped out, throwing my father out of the house. He tried for a month or so to get her to take him back, but she turned vicious, and he decided it wasn’t worth it.”
“And you were dealing with Spencer?” Chloe was careful to speak slowly, sounding out each word to herself before speaking.
“Yes. We thought he had Lou Gehrig’s disease. Most people who have it die within three to five years due to respiratory failure. Spencer has been sick for three, so…”
The pain in Jim’s tone couldn’t be faked. “You taught he was dying.”
“I did. When the latest doctor told us it wasn’t ALS but chronic inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy, we were ecstatic.”
Chloe frowned. She’d never heard of… “What is that?”
“It’s the chronic form of Guillain-Barré syndrome, sort of. Spencer might never walk again, but we’ve caught the disease before he lost any other motor functions.”
“Ouch.” Chloe winced in sympathy. “He didn’t tell me that part.”
“The good news is that, unlike ALS, it’s not fatal. He’ll live a long, happy life with the right therapies. And he has me now, so he has family again.”
“I’m glad for him.” Chloe jumped when Jim covered her hands, stopping the destruction of the poor paper napkin. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His gaze remained kind, but his tone was firm.
“Tell you butt?” Man, her brain really seemed to like that word lately.
“That I was your mate.”
“Shh.” She looked around, grateful that the other diners seemed to be immersed in their own conversations. “You can’t talk about that in public.”
“All right. Calm down.” He patted her hands and let go, sitting back in his seat. “You want a burger or something else?”
She blinked. “There’s something else?”
He laughed. “Yeah, the burgers here are the best.” When the waitress, someone Chloe had never met before, walked over to their table Jim ordered for both of them. How the man knew she liked to get the extra-thick chocolate shake along with a glass of water, she had no idea, but that’s exactly what he asked for.
“Thank. You.” Chloe smiled.
“You have conductive aphasia, right?” When she nodded, he continued. “I want you to relax. The tenser you are, the harder it is to speak using the correct words.”
“I can read and write them dine, but…” She paused, trying to spit out the word on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t quite get it to come out, but Jim waited patiently, and eventually she was able to speak. “Talking is card sometimes, and I switch words.”
“Paraphasia.” He nodded. “I looked some of this stuff up when I realized what was going on. Took me some time, but I figured it out.”
He seemed so proud of himself for that.
“Why would you? As far as I drew you wanted nothing to do with me.”
He actually flushed. “Because you’re important to me, more than I wanted you to know. I tried to stay away, to keep you out of my mind, but I just couldn’t.”
Ouch. That hurt, but at least he was being honest with her.
“Any weakness on your left side other than your hand?”
“Go. I primp sometimes in bad weather or when I’m fired, but otherwise everything else seems fine. I’ve got some tingling in my right bland that I need to have checked out soon, though.” Chloe’s left hand was still trembling, the spastic movement outside her control. “And the aphasia is mild.”
“Do they say whether or not you’ll recover any further with more speech therapy?”
She shrugged. “Pretty sure it’s as good as it’s going to set.”
“What about for your hand?”
She held it up. “Same thing.” While she’d lost some control over her motor functions, at least she could still use it to a small extent. She could hold a burger if she was careful.
Speaking of which, a plate of hot, greasy goodness was placed in front of her along with a thick, creamy shake. Another plate was placed in front of Jim, who nodded his thanks to the waitress. “Can we have two brownie sundaes for dessert?”
Chloe blinked. How in the world had he discovered her favorite dessert?
When the waitress left, Jim winked at her. “I have a weakness for chocolate and ice cream.”
She bit her lip. Sure he did. She’d seen what he ate for lunch on a regular basis. Salads with grilled chicken and light dressing, diet soda or water, and if he was really hungry he had an apple or orange for dessert. She’d worked for, and lusted after, him for quite a while. “Liar.”
“Nope. I just hide my addictions well.” He took a huge bite out of his burger, moaning in appreciation. “Besides, all those salads allow me to eat like this for dinner.”
Chloe took a much smaller bite of her own burger, savoring the taste of well-cooked meat, melty cheese and ketchup. “S’good.”
“Mm-hm.” He wiped his lips with his napkin. Frank’s burgers were not neat food. “So. What do I need to do to get you to forgive me?”
She suddenly had a hard time swallowing. Shrugging, she took a sip of water, hoping it would loosen her tight throat.
“Are the dreams as bad for you as they’ve been for me?�
�
She whimpered before she could stop herself.
He laughed softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The laughter slowly faded, a deepening hunger taking its place. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for.” He grimaced. “Stronger than I am, that’s for sure.”
She nodded. She sure as hell was.
“Will you at least give me a chance to make it up to you?” He held up his hand before she could respond. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d like to try.”
She thought about that while she took another bite of burger. While she was pissed that he hadn’t come to her when he’d first discovered Spencer, in a way she could understand it. He hadn’t felt the same way she did. He hadn’t felt the pull or had to deal with the mate dreams tormenting him night after night.
Even when he’d been turned he’d done what was needed for his family first, and that was something a member of the Bunsun-Williams clan could fully understand. “Yes.”
The relief on his face was worth the courage it had taken to say that one little word. “Thank you.”
That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make him work for it, at least a little. “Don’t fake me regret it.”
His hazel eyes turned brown. “I promise.”
She planned on holding him to that.
Jim waited patiently in line at the grocery store, praying he wouldn’t have to be there much longer. He had a meal to make and a brother to eat with, not to mention a phone call he was very much looking forward to. Chloe had been more than generous when she’d given him permission to try and make things right between them, and he had every intention of taking her up on that offer.
Figure of Speech (Halle Shifters) Page 3