Chapter Thirty–Four

CHAPTER THIRTY–FOUR

H ours passed. Apex knew this because his back was getting stiff, and his feet were cold. But he didn’t care. He and Callum had stayed where they were as the fire had died out, and he had been the one to mentally dim the lights when the wolven had fallen asleep. He’d even risked a hand on the male’s shoulder, the closest he was going to get to giving in and wrapping his arms around the body that lay so solidly against his own.

Fucking hell, he was back on the rocky shore of “Maybe They Had A Chance After All.”

Even though he knew better than to believe the optimism would last.

Just because you wanted something didn’t mean it was yours. And he still believed the male had a much better shot without him—

His phone went off with a bing .

Instantly, he stiffened. The last thing he wanted was this moment to be interrupted by—

Bing! came another text.

Locking his molars, he willed the cell to STFU. Why the hell hadn’t he turned the ringer off? It wasn’t like he wanted to talk to anybody—

Bing!

Callum’s head lifted and the wolven’s half-mast, husky-eyes were the most beautiful thing Apex had ever seen.

“You should get that?”

“FYI, no one ever calls or texts me. Unless I’m with you, evi-fucking-dently.”

Whatever it was, he didn’t want it. But because he needed to keep what peace there was for twenty-four more hours, he shifted his hips, shoved a hand into his ass pocket, and took out the cell.

“It’s just Mayhem,” he said with relief. “He can wait—”

Bing!

Cursing under his breath, he put in his code with one hand—because he’d never trusted facial ID; someone could just kill you and put the screen in front of your dead puss—and then navigated to the text section.

When he started reading, he frowned—which caused Callum to sit up. And it was amazing—the separation was, in terms of inches, so minor, but the center of his chest locked down like a vise. But really, did he think the wolven was going to run off, never to be seen or heard from again?

As if Callum was answering that question, his eyes went to the cold hearth and his face tightened.

“Hey,” Apex said, to derail himself from a mental spiral that was likely inevitable, “how about I make us something to eat?”

Not that he was hungry.

“I’m good. But help yourself.”

“Okay.”

“What was the text?” Callum said, even though it was unclear whether he was aware that he was speaking. He was still staring off into space.

“Mayhem wants to leave.”

“Oh? You better go see him off.”

That stinging sense the wolven was about to pull another disappearing act tightened every muscle in Apex’s body. And just to prove—to himself—that he was not completely entangled, he nodded even though he was looking at the profile of the male and had no intention of going anywhere.

Unless he was getting kicked out.

When there was only silence, Apex glanced down at himself and realized his pants were still open. He hadn’t even fucking noticed.

“So yeah . . .” Getting to his feet, Apex put himself back together. “I think I am going to head over to the big house—”

“I’m leaving, too.”

“Oh?” Apex felt himself go still. “Really?”

“About an hour ago, I sent my resignation in to the owner. I was going to tell you that when I came looking for you—but then . . . I saw you through the window, and . . .”

“Things happened.”

Actually, the wolven’s departure was good, Apex told himself. Safer, considering what would be arriving at Ghreylke soon. And better for Callum.

Yet the mourning returned, a load that had been put down for a moment—and was now twice as heavy for the brief respite.

“Where are you going to go?” he heard himself ask.

“I don’t know. I just know . . . not here. I think I’m looking for a fresh start.”

“Fair enough.” What the hell was he saying? “I mean, good for you. Yeah, that’s really healthy. Ah, anyway, I think I’ll head over and chat to Mayhem—”

Callum looked up. Finally. “Will you come back here? This feels . . . rushed. It’s not how I want to leave things between us. I did it wrong once already.”

“I know. I was there.” Glancing at the cold hearth, Apex found himself blinking quickly to clear his vision. “But, yeah, sure. I’ll be back.”

Callum got up, but it wasn’t for some kind of hug. He went over to lie down on his bed. As he stared up at the ceiling, Apex sensed the departure had already happened, even though they were still technically in the same room.

As he hesitated, he learned a truth about himself that he could have done without: This awkwardness was proving that everything he’d said to the wolf had been right, yet there was another layer to it all.

He was waiting to see if Callum was going to change his mind.

Not about leaving the estate, but about needing Apex to stay, right now.

Mayhem didn’t matter. The job didn’t count. The big house could have been on fire and he would still be standing here, waiting to be called into service.

The reality was . . . there was still nothing he wouldn’t do for the wolven. Even if letting Callum go remained the way this was all going to end.

Fresh start, indeed.

“I won’t be long,” he muttered as he headed for the door.

He got some kind of indistinct response, and there was no reason to ask for a repeat of it as it had just been a sound, made in the back of the throat. A dismissal.

Apex closed the door quietly behind himself and descended the stairs. Halfway to the big house, he glanced back at the garage. Callum had gotten up and turned the lights all the way off, the windows dark as the night.

Goddamn, this was like being back at that bedside, in the prison, reading tea leaves for improvement, and ultimately being disappointed—

The door of the big house opened, and Mayhem leaned out. “You coming or going?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour.

Apex got his walk on, and as he came up to the other male, he didn’t want to think about things he couldn’t control anymore.

He didn’t want to think about anything.

“You done?” Even though one of the guy’s texts had already said that. “We good?”

“You’re all set. But I figured you’d want to try things out first.”

Closing the door as he entered, Apex wasn’t surprised to find Mahrci with her LV duffle right next to Mayhem’s black nylon bag from Dick’s. Cabela’s. Wherever.

Beauty and the Generic.

Except as the two looked at each other and their eyes lingered, Apex didn’t have the heart to be cynical about their future. Who was he to doom-and-gloom on their parade?

“So you’re leaving, too,” he said to the female.

In reply, he got a nod and some conversation he didn’t bother tracking. While all kinds of syllables were thrown around, he stared at the pair. Like the luggage, they were standing side by side, and the ease between them was obvious. No shadows thrown by dark emotions. No past clawing its way into the present and fucking things up. Just two people who were attracted to each other and ready to see where it all goes—

“You’re lucky,” he heard himself say.

That stopped both of them.

Which was his clue to step in and offer his hand for a shake. “Thanks, Mayhem.”

The male glanced at what was clearly his female. Then he shook what was offered. “Um, okay. So how about we go through the program before I go?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I know how to reach you if something doesn’t work.”

Mayhem’s brows popped. “Um, yeah, you can always call me. But are you sure? I mean, everything is functioning—”

“I trust you. ”

“I tested and retested the feeds—”

“I know you did.” Turning, he put his palm out to Mahrci. “Something tells me I’m not going to see you again.”

The female ducked her eyes. “You never know.”

“Yeah, I do. What do you want me to tell your father?”

“Nothing. That’s my problem, not yours.”

Finally, someone who got it, he thought.

“I always did like you.”

Just as the female went to take his hand in her own, he saw the bite mark on the inside of her wrist. Well, things had progressed, hadn’t they. And he was willing to bet that it wasn’t the only vein on her that had been taken—although with her wearing that turtleneck, he couldn’t tell.

Not that it was his business.

“You okay taking the SUV back?” Mayhem asked. “I was just gonna, you know, dematerialize with her.”

“No problem. I’m thinking of leaving the vehicle here, anyway. It’s Whestmorel’s.”

His job with that male was done, and not just with this installation.

Guess everyone was disappearing.

As they both stared at him, like they were worried about his mental health or something, he marched over to the door.

“Take care of yourselves,” he said as he indicated the way out.

“You, too,” Mayhem said as he picked up both bags with one hand, then slipped an arm around Mahrci’s shoulders. “Call me if you need me—”

“You already said that.”

The happy couple walked out and then Mayhem glanced over his shoulder one last time. At which point, Apex was certain he wasn’t going to see the male again, either.

After he lifted a hand in goodbye, he watched them disappear into the night.

Then he just stood there, running up Whestmorel’s heat bill with the door wide open. It was just impossible not to keep doing a compare/contrast with that couple to his and Callum’s situation—but that was the thief of joy, right?

As he glanced back over at the dark windows of the garage’s second story, he thought, Yup, sure the hell is.

“I better double-check the system,” he said into the cold breeze that was coming at him.

Right? Work was why he was here, after all.

Not this . . . heartbreaking other stuff.