Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

O ne last box and… done!

It took four days, but me and the guys managed to get my entire apartment packed up and now the last box was added to the truck.

If you had told me a week ago that I would be packing all of my belongings up and moving to an entirely different country with not one but two men who worshipped me, I would have told you to get off the drugs. Toss in the fact that both of them are shifters, and I would have driven you to rehab myself.

But here I am.

Yes, this is happening and yes, I am still completely geeking out about it all.

“Is that all of it, babe?” Ren comes up behind me and wraps me in a hug.

“It better be. The truck is full.” Mat grumbles from the doorway. Part of his grumpy facade is just for show, but a tiny part is because of the city. He hates the busy energy of it all and the lack of trees and nature. Hell, we all do.

The hand-built house on the edge of the preserve feels more like a home to me than any other place before it. They built it together. For their mate. For me before they even knew me.

“Yeah. That is the last of it.” I move away from Ren’s embrace to take one last look out of the apartment window. The city bustles below, as people rush to work and appointments. In the distance, you can just make out the sparkle of water from the river.

At one point, this place was my haven from the memories that tormented me every night. I surrounded myself with the loud noises of city life to help drown out the gunshots that would randomly plague my mind and send me into a spiral. So many nights, I would drag myself to the garden tub and just sit inside of it. Shaking. Terror-stricken as memories flashed before me as fresh and clear as the day it all happened.

Never did I expect the treatment for my PTSD to come in the form of two men in a forest, in the middle of nowhere. But they give me strength.

In the short time we’ve had together, I already feel stronger and more confident. I even bought shorts again. Something I haven’t worn since the incident or the surgeries that followed. While I was at it, I bought myself a bikini. Both men laughed as our usual swimming place requires no clothing at all, but it made me feel sexy, and so Mat demanded we get it.

I had never expected them to want me to stay with them. I mean, I had hoped, but since this is my first time with the whole mate thing, I wasn’t quite sure how it worked. Honestly, part of me was afraid that mate was just meant for the season. I nearly died the night I thought they may only want me until the season's end. That was quite a ledge they pulled me back from.

But they did. Both of them. They’ve had a patience with me that I’ve never even had with myself. I’ve opened up to them in ways I’ve never opened up to my therapist.

Which reminds me… I kind of need to cancel my appointments with her. After all, even if she wanted to do the teletherapy appointments, what am I going to talk to her about? I can see that going so well. ‘ Oh, yes. And today after the guys fucked me, Mat shifted into his alligator form and let me ride on his back naked. ’

Yeah, I have no desire to be committed to an asylum any time soon, so I think I will just forgo the therapy for now. I will have to make a promise to check in with her in six months and get a recommendation for someone local to appease her worry.

I hate saying that I don’t need the therapy anymore, because I’m not healed. I don’t think there is a way to actually heal from the things I experienced at such a young age. Sadly, that is what dug the final wedge between my mother and I. She never experienced something like the trauma I had, so she just couldn’t understand. Or wasn’t willing to. Either way, the phone call on Christmas seems to be enough to keep her happy.

But I get it now. I thought solitude was the best answer. I thought keeping my distance meant not talking about it, which meant fewer episodes. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Ren and Mat have me talking all the time. As much or as little as I want. Sometimes they ask questions and push me to talk more, while other times they just let me ramble and cry. The night terrors have gotten better too. I guess it’s hard to be terrified when you are always being spooned by two giant hunky bodies.

The two of them create a perfect balance for me. One pushing me harder, and the other lifting me up. One giving me the encouragement I need, and the other giving the tenderness I didn’t know I craved.

I went out into that forest in search of the perfect shot. Somewhere between the frames, I found something even more perfect.

Me.