10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Shay

Waking up, I could feel the stillness of the house. The kind of stillness that comes from no one being home. There was no noise from the other rooms, no soft murmur of voices that had been there before when I had woken briefly, then fallen straight back to sleep. No sound of a television playing, no cabinets being open and closed.

Just stillness.

Forcing myself to sit up, I listened intently for just the barest of sounds. Nothing. No one was home.

Heart pounding, I stood up. My legs shook, refusing to hold me, and I found myself falling back on the bed on my ass. Taking as deep a breath as I could, which seemed to be an improvement from previously though still not great, I focused on gathering what little strength I possessed. I felt as weak as a newborn foal and just as shaky.

I needed to find Lucas. Where had Bennett taken my son? I had trusted him. Had felt safe, for just a minute. And now Lucas was gone.

Pushing myself gingerly up from the bed, my head swam dizzily, but I refused to give into the need to sit back down. Grabbing onto one of the heavy four posters of the bed, I waited for my head to clear.

When the dizziness had passed and my legs felt more stable, I slowly made my way across the room to where my clothes were still folded neatly. I was breathing heavily from my trek, sweat beading my brow, and I was thankful there was an armchair that I could sink into.

Fuck. Just crossing the bedroom left me winded. Now that I was well and truly awake, a pressing need was making itself known by way of my bladder. Noticing the open doorway not too far from where I was seated, I could just make out what looked like an en suite.

"You can do it." Muttering encouragement to myself, I shuffled into the bathroom, flipping on the light. Once my bladder was taken care of, I washed my hands, staring at myself in the mirror.

Goddess, I looked as bad as I felt.

My face was an interesting mix of reds, purples, blacks, yellows, and greens. The grayish pallor from my illness made it all look twice as bad. Tilting my head to the side, the fingerprint marks Edward had left on my throat were still dark, but they were now tinged with some yellow and green. I looked like an extra from a horror movie .

The air conditioning kicked on and I shivered as the cool air blew across my bare skin. Which probably meant I was still running a fever, even if it was now a low-grade one. I had a pair of sweats in my duffel, which was still in my truck. Hopefully it was safe in the hospital parking lot, because I didn't need a towing bill on top of the bill I would no doubt be receiving from the hospital.

"Those are tomorrow problems, Shay." Slowly, holding onto furniture as I went, I managed to make it back to the chair. "Maybe even next week problems."

Taking a moment to huff and puff, I noticed my duffel bag sitting next to the dresser on the floor.

"Thank you…someone." Not knowing if I had Bennett or someone else to thank for retrieving my clothes, I was just pulling my gray sweats over my hips when I heard the muffled sound of a car door slamming.

Hurrying out of the bedroom and down the hallway as fast as my shaky limbs and treacherous lungs would allow, holding onto the wall for support, I heard a key slide into the lock. Soft voices and a child's laughter.

Lucas.

Yanking the door open, I glared at Bennett and growled, "Where have you been with my son?"

Bennett nearly dropped all the many bags he was holding, and Lucas looked just as startled. Then his blue eyes lit up with joy at seeing me upright, and mostly alive and coherent.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, pushing past Bennett and nearly toppling the smaller man over. "You're up!"

He threw himself at my legs, hugging me tightly, and nothing had ever felt so good. Holding him to me, I bent and nuzzled his soft hair. Closing my eyes, I imagined his hair smelling like his strawberry shampoo, a scent so familiar to me. I would be glad when I got my sense of smell back.

Bennett, to his credit, didn't take offense to my snarling or Lucas nearly knocking him over. He just brushed past us with his plethora of bags, without saying a word. I could hear him rustling about, no doubt sitting them down on a kitchen counter.

I should apologize. Bennett had been nothing but kind to us and had gone well beyond what most people would do. He had taken us into his home, taken care of me, and made sure my son had a safe place to sleep. I should stop being an ass, but I had been terrified when I realized Lucas was gone. And I didn't know if I could verbalize just how frightened I had been.

Finally, Lucas released me, bouncing back on his toes, his face lit up with a bright smile. It was wonderful to see after so many days of seeing nothing but questions in his eyes, followed by fear. He was holding a plastic bag and he moved to the sofa, where he unceremoniously dumped its contents.

"We went to the store, Daddy," he explained, "they have all the things there! Did you know that? Bennett let me pick out something for helping him. I got play doh! He said it's okay, that it cleans up easy, so you don't have to worry. He won't be mad if some falls on the floor."

Closing my eyes briefly at Lucas's innocent words, I blinked away the memory of the fight Edward and I had over Lucas being allowed play doh. Clearly, despite my best efforts, Lucas had heard us.

Slowly moving to sink down next to Lucas on the sofa, I glanced around the living room. Blinking slowly as the different colored walls registered. One was lime green, one an aqua color, and one a pale peach. It was odd, to be sure, but somehow, it seemed to work.

"Can we do play doh now?" Lucas looked at me with big puppy eyes, and my heart melted.

Coughing into my arm, I noticed this spell didn't last as long as the last ones and was less painful. "You'll need to ask Bennett, kiddo, we're his guests."

Where was Bennett? Hiding out in his kitchen? I wouldn't blame him.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Bennett appeared, leaning a shoulder casually against the wall that separated the living room and kitchen. "You can play with it at the table. I have some wax paper we can put down, and you can roll it out on that. Did you still want to help with the soup? You don't have to if you'd rather play."

Lucas jumped up, his new toy forgotten. "I want to help cook."

"Wash your hands," Bennett instructed softly, as Lucas whizzed past him into the kitchen area and out of sight.

"Your cough sounds better," he remarked quietly, still doing his best to hold the wall up with his shoulder. "The antibiotics and nebulizer seem to be working."

Looking at my hands and not at Bennett, I gave a slight nod, agreeing with him. "I feel a little better, though that's not saying much. I got winded walking across the bedroom to the chair."

Bennett said nothing, and I raised my head to see him looking at me, but there was no anger in his eyes. He was just looking me over, taking in every minute detail.

"I'm sorry I yelled." The words were barely more than a whisper, but they were sincere.

"You were scared, and I should have realized you would be if you woke up." He tilted his head, frowning. "It's my fault for not at least leaving a note. Honestly, I figured we would be back before you woke up. It took longer than I expected, so I'm sorry for that."

Shaking my head, I whispered, "No, you've been nothing but kind to us. Please don't apologize. I overreacted."

Bennett gave me a thin-lipped smile that wasn't really a smile, but something about the look in his eyes told me he understood why I had reacted the way I had. Still, it didn't make my behavior okay. "Well, I won't take Lucas again without your permission."

Fuck, I was such an ass yelling the way I had. And Bennett was being way too understanding. Was that just how he was, or was he walking on eggshells around me? I hated to think that he was, but there was a huge, unspoken elephant in the room. It didn't take a genius to figure out some of my story or circumstances, and Bennett didn't strike me as stupid.

"Bennett!" Lucas hollered from the kitchen, and I winced that my child was yelling the way he was. He had better manners than that. On the other hand, I was kind of glad he felt comfortable enough with Bennett, and in his house, to just be a kid for once. The Goddess knew, Asher and I had yelled plenty when we were growing up. "My hands are clean. Are we making the soup?"

Bennett smiled, a true smile this time, and looked over his shoulder. "Yes, we are." Moving into the kitchen, I heard him say, "Remember, I'll do the chopping, and you put everything in the crock pot. We'll put it on the high setting and it should be ready in a couple of hours. Let me just get your dad some water, and maybe some crackers."

A few minutes later, he held out a large glass of ice water to me, and a sleeve of saltines. "Take it." He wiggled the glass at me, and I automatically took it from him. "You need the water. It will help with the gunk in your lungs and your throat, and keep you from being any more dehydrated than you are. The crackers will help with your stomach. You've had nothing but meds for two days."

How had he known I was slightly queasy? Was that just common sense or did it have something to do with us being fated? The second big we-aren't-talking-about-that-right-now elephant in the room.

"Thank you." I didn't know what else to say, so I just sipped the water under his watchful stare. When he seemed satisfied, he headed back to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "We're making some soup. Remote is on the couch. It will be time for more meds in a bit, so eat some crackers. Let me know if you feel up to putting something else in your stomach before it's ready."

Bossy little omega , but I did what he ordered. Truthfully, I doubted I could do much else. And it was kind of nice to have someone making decisions, even if only for a little while. Getting dressed, making it out here to the couch, the terror I had felt at not knowing where Lucas was, and yelling, had taken their toll. Exhaustion seeped from my bones, and I didn't even have the energy to reach for the remote to turn on some mindless show.

Setting the water glass on the coffee table, I ate a couple of crackers, then let my head fall back on the sofa. I wasn't really hungry at all, but the crackers were helping with my upset stomach. Listening to the sounds drifting from the kitchen, I slowly felt my muscles relax. The soft voices of Bennett patiently instructing Lucas on what to do. Lucas asking questions, and the sweet sound of his laughter. No matter how many questions Lucas rattled off, Bennett answered with patience and kindness. Never raising his voice, never sounding exasperated .

We were safe.

Bennett wouldn't hurt us, wouldn't hurt Lucas or me. Deep down I knew it, even though I didn't know Bennett at all. I wasn't sure how I knew it; I just did. But that hadn't stopped the fear from taking hold of me, nearly paralyzing me with it.

Drifting, I dozed, coming somewhat awake when I heard car doors slamming, and feet running up the walk. The person barely knocked, before they threw the door open so hard and fast it banged loudly against the wall.

Jumping at the sound that was so loud in the room it was like a gunshot had gone off, I pushed myself off the couch, body shaking. Heart pounding, adrenaline racing through me, I was ready to defend Lucas from whoever was coming at us. For us.

Had Edward found us?

The tall, lithe, blond omega with wide dark, chocolate-colored eyes stared at me, his expression both grim and hopeful. It had been over twelve years since I'd last seen his face, but I would know him anywhere.

He'd been my whole world for over half my life. My big brother. My defender. My protector. It had never mattered that he was an omega, and I was an alpha. He was my older brother, and that was that. He wouldn't let anyone mess with me. Even when I'd grown larger than him, taller and wider than him, he'd teasingly call me his big little brother.

He had held me when our mom had died from breast cancer, and I'd been too little to understand why she was gone and wasn't coming home. He'd climbed into my bed when I had nightmares and chased the monsters away.

He'd made sure I did my homework, and stayed out of trouble, and didn't give our dad too much attitude, until he'd gone away to college .

Staring at him, emotions flooded my body. My throat tightened, and a painful lump formed there. My chest ached and it had nothing to do with my case of bronchitis. My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly, forcing whatever was causing them to tear up away.

"Shay," he whispered, so softly I barely heard him. Like he couldn't believe he was seeing me, that I was actually in the same room with him. But he didn't step towards me, and I didn't move either. Too afraid that if I took that first step, he wouldn't meet me halfway.

"Hey, Ash."

As greetings went after so long, it was pretty fucking lame. But it was the best I could do. Anything more might shatter me into a million pieces that I would never be able to pick up.

Because I saw it all in his dark eyes, so different from mine. All the questions–about a million of them. The relief, the hurt and pain. Most of all, I saw years of pent-up anger. Which I knew he was entitled to feel.

A huge bear of a man filled the doorway behind Asher, a toddler balanced on each hip. Asher held the screen door open, allowing them in. The man was about my height of six foot four, maybe an inch taller. His shoulders were as wide as the doorframe, his biceps massive where he held each baby.

These had to be Asher's twins, Tristan and Rafe. One looked almost identical to the man holding him, while the other looked like a living breathing replica of one of my brother's baby pictures.

I felt, rather than saw, Bennett come to stand just inside the living room. He greeted the newcomers, but my eyes were glued to my brother. He looked tired and rumpled, his hair disheveled. Like he'd spent hours in a car, with few breaks .

He looked like the best thing I had seen in a very long time.

"Where have you been, Shay?" Asher demanded, stepping closer. Then closer still. Until he was standing in front of me, staring me down, barely an inch between us. His eyes were scanning over my face, widening slightly as he cataloged each bruise and mark.

"Why the fuck did you cut us out like that, Shay? Dad didn't deserve that and neither did I!" His voice rose with each word, his anger a living thing, and I flinched away from him. An involuntary response to his tone, his body filling the space around me, the anger I could see in his body language. The tightly wound muscles, and the fist he kept flexing.

"You didn't even come to his funeral! You know they wouldn't even let me into that fortress the Clarks live in when I tried to see you after his funeral? What the actual fuck, Shay!"

"Asher," the bear growled in warning behind him, his voice low and deep.

"And who did that to your face?" my brother demanded, and I remembered he'd always been a pushy bastard. Full of confidence, and arrogance, and a need to be in charge of every fucking thing.

Swallowing around whatever had lodged itself in my throat, jaws aching from the tightness of them, I opened my mouth to say… something , and the coughing started. Gasping, I bent over, holding my side where my ribs were bruised. Because, of course, they had to remind me they were still there, still fucking bruised. Without my shirt on, the ugly colorful rainbow that made up one side of my body couldn't be missed.

"You show up out of the blue, after not a word for fucking twelve years, Shay, and with a child, and what? What am I supposed to say? To do?" Asher demanded, and even if I hadn't been trying to expel the nasty sludge from my lungs, I wouldn't have had an answer for him. "Just open my arms and say hey, all's forgiven, nice to fucking see you?"

"Asher!" the bear growled, his voice sharp. "Step back and let him breathe!"

Falling back onto the softness of the couch, the coughing spell finally subsided. Panting, I reached for the glass of water, letting the cool liquid ease my throat.

It was then, when I was swallowing, my head resting back against the cushion of the couch, I heard the sharp intake of my brother's breath. At least I thought it was Asher. It might have been his mate.

Gentle fingers touched the skin of my neck, turning my head to the left and then the right. Keeping my eyes tightly closed, I didn't want to open them. Didn't want to look in my brother's eyes. Couldn't face what I would see there.

He lightly touched one of the bruises, then another, tracing the pattern all the way around my throat.

"Shay?" he whispered, "What happened to you?"

Shaking my head, I tried to pull out of his grasp, because I didn't want him to see. Asher knew me better than anyone, once upon a time, and I wouldn't be able to hide from him. Hide the shame, the fear, the pain, the exhaustion. Every single thing I was feeling would be open to him, like a gaping, bleeding wound.

He paused, and I could feel his doctor's eyes for the first time taking in every mark, every livid bruise on my skin. It was too late to hide it from him. Too late to pull a time out, while I put on a shirt to at least cover some of the damage. Not that I could hide my face, but at least my ribs would be covered, and maybe some of my throat .

"Did he do this? Did that bastard Edward do this?" Asher demanded, his voice shaking with the force of emotions he was barely keeping a lid on. "Shay? Look at me, dammit. I will fucking kill him! I swear to the Goddess, I will fucking kill him!"

But I couldn't–wouldn't–look at him. Even though I wanted him to see all the things I couldn't say out loud. Wanted him to see it in my eyes, wanted him to understand why, and what, and how. Wanted him to wave his magic big brother wand and make it all go away and better with one swoop.

"Asher! Stop it!" his mate demanded.

Lucas's soft crying penetrated my brain, along with the wailing screams of the twins.

Opening my eyes, because I refused to be a coward who couldn't face his own brother, I stared into my brother's face. He was angry, hurt, so many things. But I had no doubt, he meant what he had said. If he saw Edward, he very well might kill him. Or get his bear mate to do it for him.

"That is enough, Asher."

Bennett's sharp tone broke through all the noise. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. Bennett had mastered the art of getting everyone's attention without having to raise his voice to do it.

"You are scaring the kids, and Shay doesn't need this right now. It's time for his nebulizer and his meds." Bennett calmly handed me my nebulizer, and I took it, looking past my brother, who was still looming over me, to Lucas. He was crying quietly, the tears running down his cheeks and that broke my heart. Because he hadn't cried that much through anything that had happened. He'd been brave, and had listened, and kept it together more than any six-year-old should have been expected to .

"It's okay, Lucas," quietly, I tried to assure him. "Uncle Asher and I just have some things to work out. I'm going to take this," I waved the nebulizer around, "into the bedroom. Where it's quiet. I need quiet. It takes about twenty minutes."

It was probably me taking the coward's way out. Again. But I just couldn't deal with any of it right now. Not my crying son. Not my screaming nephews who I had yet to properly meet. Not the look in Bennett's eyes, part sympathy and part anger. And definitely not my brother. I could not deal with him at all right now.

Resting against the pillows, I shut my eyes and let the medicine do its thing, trying not to listen to the voices drifting down the hallway from the living room. I refused to use my shifter hearing to eavesdrop on what was being said about me. It was just the rising and falling volume of unintelligible words. White noise. Bennett could tell Asher whatever he wanted to, whatever he might know, I was beyond caring.

And when the medicine ran out, and I was wired and shaky, I sank down further on the bed, curling onto my side. I was so fucking tired. So very fucking tired. I couldn't remember ever being this exhausted in my life.

Ignoring the soft footsteps I heard, I kept my eyes tightly shut, not wanting to face Bennett right now. Not wanting to face anyone.

The bed dipped, and a long body stretched out against my back, familiar arms wrapping around my chest, pulling me into him. His warmth engulfed me, and I didn't need my sense of smell to come back to know who was holding me.

Asher.

I would know those arms, the feel of them, the safety of them, anywhere .

And that was the moment I broke.

Shattered into the million little pieces I was afraid I would never be able to put back together.

The tears I'd been holding back, the pain I'd pushed away and down, and to the side, washed over me. And I cried. Shaking, I clenched my jaw tightly, trying to keep the sound in. So he wouldn't hear. So Lucas and Bennett wouldn't hear.

"I'm sorry, Shay," he whispered, his arms tightening around me in a bone crushing hug. It almost cut my air off, but I didn't complain, afraid he would take the safety of his arms away. "I was an ass. None of it matters. You're here, and I'm here, whatever you need."

His breath whispered across my neck, his hand stroked through my hair, like he used to do when he chased the monsters away when I was little.

I needed him to chase the monsters away now.

"I love you, big little brother. I always have, and I always will. Nothing will ever change that. You don't have to tell me anything that happened. Though I hope someday you'll trust me enough to tell me. Whatever you need, whatever Lucas needs, I have you. I'll always have you."

Sobbing, I buried my face in the arm wrapped tightly around my chest, my entire body shaking as I let everything I had kept inside for so long–for years–out.