by Yara Gharios
I narrow my eyes and sidestep that question. "So instead, you decided to drive forty-five minutes to meet me, when I'm working on something you're not allowed to know about? How did you find me anyway?"
"GPS, dude," he replies in an obvious tone.
I've always found the way he sometimes talks to others like they're dumber than he is kind of irritating. I haven't had to deal with it much, because we're related, and I'm also his alpha. I don't buy it. Not the GPS thing, but his excuse.
"Jason, why are you really here?"
He gives up the pretense and sags. "Okay, fine," he relents. "It's my sister."
Taking a step toward him, I immediately tense up and imagine the worse. "What happened? Is she okay?"
He raises his hands up. "Easy Romeo. Reena's fine. She's just... well, she's depressed, to put it lightly. She's gone to some bar all by herself, and she wouldn't come with me when I tried to get to come home."
Reena has been mad since the bonfire camp. She hasn't said a word about it, though, and it has been eating her up inside. I should have expected that she would do something like this, and I'm guessing she wants to pick a fight.
Exasperated, I sigh and shake my head. "Give me your car and go back with Cade. Where is she again?"
"That Irish place five minutes from home," he tells me.
I turn to my beta. "Try to get a copy of whatever relevant reports you can find." I look at my cousin again. "You, stay in the car when he's in there. You're still not allowed to know what this is about."
Jason once again raises his hands in a sign of defeat.
To be honest, a fight with Reena is inevitable. I was stupidly trying to avoid it, but deep down, I knew it would only become worse the longer I wait. So when she greets me with a cold hard stare and a long gulp of whatever she's drinking, it's not much of a surprise.
The fight doesn't last long, nor does it contribute anything new to what has already been said. She still doesn't understand why I'm so committed to this project, and I still can't get her to see it. It doesn't take her long to change her mind about the picking-a-fight thing and shut me out. The slam of our bedroom door is indicative of how angry she still is.
I tell Michael about my fight with Reena because I really want a break. His concern strikes a nerve, and I couldn't lie to him when he asked if I was okay. But I still couldn't tell him everything, which I was up-front about. I'm glad he asked though, because now I feel lighter, like the echo of what happened to those families, as well as the burden of fighting with Reena, flew off my shoulders.
About an hour later, we're still playing video games, but we've toned it down to a simple Mario game. We're technically taking a break, and this way we're able to keep up a serious conversation.
"Can I ask you something, Michael?" I venture.
"Sure," he quickly agrees.
"How come whenever someone mentions mates, you somehow play it off like that's not a discussion you should be included in?"
His fingers tap a little on the joystick as he pauses. "Because I don't have one."
"That's not what I mean," I tell him. "You changed the subject earlier, when I said you will get a mate one day, and you talk about it like it's not something you'll ever have."
Instead of answering directly, he turns it around. "Let me ask you something. Have you ever seen the way some little girls get so worked up when they see dolls? Or some little boys with their toy cars?"
"Yeah," I say doubtfully.
"In the last few years, have you ever felt the need to join them and play with them?"
I see where he's going with this. "No, but that's different," I argue. "I did use to be one of those kids when I was their age. I just grew up and developed new interests."
"So did I," he agrees. "I used to want to be in a relationship, but now I just don't care about it. There are other things I'm interested in instead."
"Like what?" I'm curious to know.
"Well," he hesitates, "I play the piano. Keyboards too, but I love the piano more."
This catches me off guard, and I take my eyes off the screen to stare at him. I knew he was an introvert, but I never would have guessed that Michael Connolly is artistic. "Really?"
He frowns uncertainly. "Does that shock you?"
"No, it's just that I never would have guessed," I reply. "And I don't mean that in a bad way either. I mean, it's a pleasant surprise. Can I hear something?"
His eyes widen and he looks at me in surprise. "Now?"
"No, I don't mean right now," I assure him.
"I didn't know you had a piano here."
"We have one, somewhere." Probably. "But you can wait until we bring it down here, if you want. Why don't you come over tomorrow and then you'll play me something?"
Michael accepts immediately with a shrug. "Sure, that might be cool, I guess."
Smiling, I go back to playing. "Great."
We play in silence for a few more minutes, until I feel the need to fill it. I'm uncomfortable making small talk, but I want to get to know Michael, so I'm going to have to.
"So what do your brothers do?" I ask. "And your parents."
"Uh, well," he hesitates, surprised by the topic I went with, "Connor graduated with a degree in Marine Biology last year, and now he works at an aquarium during the day. Mason is in college studying Mechanical Engineering. Nathan has been going from one job to the other since he finished high school, and Daniel is a senior like me. My dad is the manager at a candle-making factory and my mom is a reporter for an online magazine."
"Huh," I reply, not knowing what else to say. "Interesting."
"Now that you've got the ball rolling with the most fascinating topic in the world, can I ask you something?" he says.
"Shoot," I allow.
"Where's your mom?"
Reflexively, I look down for a split second. "She died when I was young," I reply, my eyes on the screen.
All the color drains from his face and he pauses the game.
"Oh," he mumbles apologetically. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked so carelessly. I didn't think it would be something like that."
I shrug, letting him know it's okay. "I don't remember it much."
He pauses hesitantly, deliberating. "What do you remember?"
"Mostly what happened after," I say. "My dad took it hard and had a drinking problem for a while after that. It wasn't too bad, and it didn't take him long to get out of it. But I can never forget seeing him stumbling through the front door and asking me to get my uncle before he passed out and fell on the floor. That was the last night he ever drank."
"That's why you don't like parties, isn't it?" he correctly guesses. "Because you don't like being around drunk people."
I don't say anything, but my silence is enough of an answer.
"I can understand that," he reassures me. "I'd be more surprised if your father's drinking past didn't affect you one bit. Then I would have to wonder whether you're a cyborg or not."
It's unsettling how easily he can shift the conversation onto me, and that it could affect me so much. I'm an alpha; I'm not supposed to show weakness in front of others, especially not someone who won't join my pack. But it's too easy to let my guard down around him, and he's doing the opposite of making me feel even weaker; he's saying exactly what I need to hear to pull it together again.
"A cyborg?" I repeat, amused.
"Don't tell me you don't know what a cyborg is," he begs.
"Of course I know what a cyborg is," I fervently assure him. I frown uncertainly. "How did we get from talking about your family, to my parents, to cyborgs?"
Michael shrugs. "I had to change the subject. You were becoming grave again. Not that I don't get why, I mean I do now, but you should loosen up a little."
I don't answer that. I know he's right, but I can't explain to him why I haven't been able to 'loosen up' without revealing confidential information.
We play for a few more minutes without much conversation, when Jared and Sam retur
n. Since Cade must have dropped him off, Jason must be back with them, too, although I don't know where he is.
I feel Michael grow uncomfortable when he declares that he has to leave. It's not even eight yet, but he says that he needs to go for a run with his brothers. Knowing his aversion to shifting with strangers and his unease around my pack, I don't push him to run with us. However, I do take his number and make him promise to come over tomorrow as soon as he can before I let him go.
Sadie and Cade won't be home for another hour. Their parents are probably at the still Creeds' place. After Jason joins us, the guys take control of the game room. They'll be here for hours before they go to bed.
I can't avoid facing Reena any longer, so I drag myself up to our room. The walls of all the bedrooms in the pack house are soundproofed, and I can't hear what she's doing in there, unless she shouts it. I knock on the door twice. No answer.
Maybe she's in the bathroom, I conclude and go in.
The bedroom lights are out. The only illuminated side is the upper half of the bed, because the bathroom door is open. The shower is running, too, which means I guessed right. However, there's a strange sound that I did not anticipate hearing.
"Ree?" I call out, worried.
When I get to the door, I see the shower curtain closed, but her silhouette is lower than it should be if she were standing up. She's crying, and there's a metallic smell in the air.
"Reena!"
In seconds, I rush to her and yank the curtain to the side. She's curled up on the bathroom floor, completely naked, the hot water spilling over her from the shower head. Her long hair, made darker by the water, sticks to her back and the sides of her face, which is contorted in pain as she lets out low whimpers. Her eyes are red, but it's impossible to distinguish her tears from the bath water.
The startling part is that the water underneath her is tinted in red, because of a cut on her left leg. From the way the blood is oozing out fast, I realize it's pretty deep. I see the razor on the tub floor a little further away from her feet. Immediately, I shut the water and remove the razor.
"What happened?" I demand, alarmed.
She sobs incomprehensibly and covers her face.
Hastily, I grab the first towel I find and wrap it around her bleeding leg. She doesn't stop me, although she cries out when I touch the cut and hurt her. Then I get a second, much bigger towel and wrap her in it entirely. I lift her effortlessly and place her on the closet toilet. I crouch down at eye level in front of her.
"Hey," I say calmly, putting my hand on her cheek and forcing her to look at me. "What happened, Ree?"
She swallows her sobs and wipes her face with the towel. "I fell," she replies with difficulty. "I was... shaving... and I just... slipped."
I frown; I still don't understand. Her cut is deep, but she wasn't this distraught when she broke her leg seven years ago. "But why are you crying so hard?"
"Because you weren't here!" she cries. "You broke your promise."
This is about our fight, I realize.
I sigh and drop my hand. I was dreading this for a reason; I was hoping to avoid the waterworks.
"Reena, I can't keep explaining this to you," I say calmly.
She shakes her head sadly, her tears running dry. "Logan, what am I supposed to do when you're not here? I don't have a job, and I had to pull out of college when we moved. You're the only thing that makes sense in my life; I left everything behind for you, and now you're gone half the time."
Standing up, I dust my knees. I care about her, I really do. But I wish she wouldn't attach her life so much to mine. She needs to have her own interests at the same time.
"What do you want me to do?" I ask. "Because you know I can't stop until I find out what the list means. Why don't you look into colleges here that have courses in the summer?"
She looks up at me, eyes round. "And until then? That's at least two months away."
"I don't know, Reena," I tell her, out of options and losing patience. "Make friends? Go out more often? Spend time with your family?"
She averts her gaze, an uncertain look on her face. Then she stares at her fingers crisscrossed together, fidgeting nervously.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I don't mean to be the clingy girlfriend. I... I just really miss you."
Guilt hits me in the gut. I lean closer to her and gently lift her face up to look at me. "Just because I'm gone a lot doesn't mean I will suddenly stop caring about you, okay?"
She smiles a little. "I know."
I smile back and give her a long kiss. My hand goes to her waist, and I start to pull her toward me. But she flinches and breaks the kiss.
"What's wrong?" I ask worriedly.
She winces as I remove my arm. "I fell," she reminds me. "I hit the tub there."
"Let me see," I request.
"No, no, it's fine," she replies anxiously. "I'm going to have the cut checked out anyway, so I'll ask about that."
I frown. "Are you sure? You might have a bruised rib. Maybe we should go now-"
"I'm fine, Logan," she insists. "Really, don't worry about it. Are you going out tomorrow again?"
I'm surprised by the abrupt change in subject. "Uh, no, actually, Michael is coming," I tell her. "But if you want me to go with you to the doctor's, I can tell him-"
"That's fine, don't tell him anything, I was going to go alone anyway," she maintains.
"Ree," I try to protest again.
"Logan, I mean it. I'm not trying to trick you to make you feel guilty later. I really wanted to go alone."
Hesitantly, I search her face for any sign of resentment, but there isn't any. "Okay," I finally agree. "If you're sure."
"I am," she persists. "Have fun with your friend tomorrow." Then she stands up, with some difficulty, a smile on her face, and plants a light kiss on my lips. "I'm going to get dressed now. Do you mind?"
"Uh, sure," I manage to say, surprised by the fact that she called Michael my friend. I guess we really are starting to become that, in a way.
A little while later, Cade meets me in my office to give me an update of what he found at the police station. Not much, as it turns out.
"They wouldn't give me any report," he says with annoyance. "Not even after I mentioned my mom or your dad. Said it was confidential information."
Cade's mom is the pack's Liaison. Liaisons are humans in charge of keeping packs in touch with the human world, and who provide cover stories for us when they are needed. We used to have another pack Liaison when my dad was still alive, but Cade's mom took over the position when the man died. She already had a degree in public relations, and had minored in law for a few years, so that came in handy.
"Did they tell you anything, at least?" I ask, willing to take anything.
"Yeah," he replies in the same tone. "I also did a little internet research that added things up. The Almonds' only son Paul was kidnapped six years ago. They moved a year after that, but I don't know where. I don't even know if they found him again."
He pauses to let that sink in. This list keeps bringing me one shock after another.
Then Nash delivers the final blow. "He was only six, man."
I'm up earlier than everyone the next morning. My body has grown used to it because I've been doing it almost every day for the past two weeks that we've been here. Today's the first time that I don't have anything planned and no one to run with; everyone at the pack house stayed up late last night, so they're all still sleeping.
The results that Cade came up with last night about one of the families are still a weight in my chest.
I need a distraction.
Restless, I call Michael. It was a revelation when Reena called him my friend last night. That might be my best shot at gaining his trust. However, my motives are not entirely selfish; I also genuinely want to see him.
Too late, I remember that maybe he's sleeping like the rest of my pack. It's after eight, though, and there's a chance he's not. I'm taking it.
"H
ello?" he answers curiously. He doesn't recognize my number.
"Hey, it's Logan," I say. "Did I wake you?"
His voice sounds more relaxed. "Oh, hey, no I've been up for ages. What's up?"
"Uh, well, there's a bit of a problem," I tell him, trying to sound serious.
He buys it. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know how much I can tell you, but I could really use your help."
"Sure, what is it?" he says gravely.
I wait for effect. "Everybody's sleeping, and I'm bored."
There's a pause before he laughs. "See? That's the loosening up I was talking about!"
I can't help smiling. "Yeah, I'm still working on that."
"I can tell," he notes lightly.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever," I reply. "Anyway, I remember you promising I'd hear you play today, but it looks like we can't do that in the house without waking anyone."
Plus, I'm not sure anymore that we have a piano anywhere around, I silently add.
"Crap, you didn't forget," he jokes. "Okay, I have the solution. I know where we can meet up for this. But I have to warn you, it might involve breaking the law. Is that something you can handle, alpha?"
Shaking my head with amusement, I grin. "Where do I have to meet you?"
~~~~~~~~~~
"When you said this place, I thought you meant we'd go somewhere from here, I didn't actually think we'd be breaking and entering into your school," I whisper, even though there isn't anyone around.
Michael is climbing up the back wall of his high school. It's Saturday, and he's assured me that no one will be here today. His brilliant plan is to sneak in through one of the windows on the third floor, which he said was always left open because it was too high for anyone to reach -anyone normal at least- and no teacher ever bothered to close it. Apparently, there's a music room on that floor that we can use.
When we got here, he casually leaped up to the bottom edge of a second floor window and pulled himself up. Now he's in a standing position on his tiptoes over that same ledge, and spreading his hands up as high as he could to grab onto something. I'm guessing he wants to use it to pull himself up to the third floor.
"I told you we'd be breaking the law," he points out.