Chapter 8

EIGHT

SALEM

A s we left my brother's cabin, a heavy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want to leave him behind, not after finally being reunited, but Remington insisted it wasn't safe for him if we lingered more than the day. So, with a reluctant nod, we made plans to reconvene in a couple of weeks to plot our next move against our fathers. Cohen and I climbed into his car, the engine rumbling to life as we began the journey back to NYC.

The tension in the car was palpable as we drove through the twisting roads, the silence only broken by the soft purr of the engine. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within me, a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked around every corner. Despite my efforts to push them aside, thoughts of our upcoming confrontation with our fathers consumed my mind, leaving me restless and on edge.

As Cohen's car cut through the night, the silence between us stretched on, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. I stared out the window, lost in thought, my mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

When Cohen finally pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour diner, I welcomed the distraction, the neon lights of the establishment casting a warm glow against the darkness of the early morning. We stepped inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon enveloping us as we found a booth toward the back.

The waitress approached, a yawn parting her lips as we ordered breakfast. When she disappeared into the kitchen, Cohen turned to me, his gaze searching mine. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with concern.

I nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yeah, just… processing everything." Cohen reached across the table, his hand finding mine, a silent gesture of comfort and support.

As we waited for our food, he began to speak. "I'm sorry, Salem. For keeping the truth from you," he said, his words heavy with the weight of his confession. "But Remington… he's like family to me. I would do anything to protect him, even if it meant keeping his secrets."

I sighed, his words settling over me like a heavy blanket. "I understand," I said, my voice laced with resignation. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

Cohen nodded, his expression pained. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I promise, from now on, no more secrets. We're in this together, Salem. Whatever happens."

Our food arrived, and the waitress set down two steaming plates of fluffy pancakes topped with a generous drizzle of maple syrup, accompanied by crispy strips of bacon and a side of golden hash browns. The scent of coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the savory aroma of our breakfast.

Cohen dug into his pancakes with gusto, his eyes lighting up as he took the first bite. "These are amazing," he exclaimed between mouthfuls, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah, they're pretty good," I chuckled in agreement.

As we ate, Cohen began to share stories of his childhood with the guys, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia as he recounted tales of their adventures together. He spoke of a time they snuck out of the house to explore an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town, and how they were petrified but eager as they delved deeper into the darkness.

"There was this one time when we were kids," Cohen beamed, a fond smile playing on his lips. "We spent weeks collecting scraps of wood and hammering nails until Dad caught us halfway up a tree."

"Another time,″ he continued, ″Remi decided he was going to prank Mateo. He convinced Lennox and Cole to help him, and they put hair remover into his shampoo,"

I laughed at the mental image of a bald Mateo. "Oh God, not his hair," I replied, shaking my head in amusement.

″It gets worse,″ he added. ″Mateo's mum had run out of shampoo, so she borrowed his.″ Cohen chuckled as I gasped. "Safe to say she was not impressed and has never fully forgiven Remi. But looking back, those were simpler times. Before we knew the truth about our fathers. Before we understood the darkness of this world."

I nodded, a pang of pity tugging at my heart. "Yeah." My gaze drifted to the window, where the sky stretched endlessly. "Ignorance truly is bliss."

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, and the diner seemed to grow quieter, the chatter of other patrons fading into the background as we each grappled with our own thoughts.

The sun was just beginning to rise as we finished our meal. The waitress returned to collect our plates with a friendly smile on her face. "Anything else I can get for you folks?" she asked, her tone warm and inviting.

Cohen shook his head, sliding a few bills onto the table to cover the cost. "No, we're good. Thanks for the great food," he said, his voice sincere.

As we stepped out into the cool morning air, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker within me. Despite all the lies and betrayals, maybe there was a way to move forward.

And as we climbed back into the car, I just hoped trusting them again wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass.

We drove for several more hours. Eventually, the city skyline came into view, and a sense of familiarity immersed me, grounding me in the present. We were back in NYC, back to the hustle and bustle of city life, but I couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated.

Pulling up to my apartment building, Cohen parked the car and turned to face me. "I hope you can give us a chance to make things right, Salem. We fucked up, but I'm more than ready to put in the time on my knees to earn your forgiveness." He offered a smirk, his eyes heating with desire.

I chuckled as my thighs clenched at his proposition. "You think that's all it will take?" I replied, shaking my head in amusement. "You'll need to do more than offer up free orgasms."

Cohen laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stared me down. "I know that, sweetheart, but orgasms are a great way to start."

Before I could take him up on his offer right there in the car, I hightailed it out of there, the whole time thinking over his words in my head. Maybe I wasn't opposed to a little groveling.

Men. I'd learned the hard way that they were like mirages in the desert—seemingly promising but ultimately leaving you parched and empty. Yet, no matter how much I recognized it was just an illusion, I found myself inexplicably drawn to four of them in particular, craving their fleeting presence even though I know it would leave me thirstier than before.

Against my better judgment, I had let them in. I had allowed Cohen, Lennox, Cole, and Mateo to weave their way into the tangled mess of my life. And when they betrayed my trust, their lies sliced through my defenses like a blade. Yet, even as the wounds festered and the scars deepened, I found myself yearning for their presence, their touch.

Despite everything, I couldn't shake the ache of longing that had made its home in the hollow space they'd carved out in my heart. I missed them, damn it, even though I cursed their names under my breath.

As I trudged through the streets, I felt the gnawing ache of loneliness clawing at my insides. It was a feeling I was all too familiar with, but I refused to let it consume me. I didn't need a man to fill the void in my life, no matter how tempting it may have been to jump back into their arms.

Determined to silence the persistent ache in my chest, I found myself standing outside the entrance of a pet rescue center. I pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the warmth of the shelter enveloping me like a comforting embrace.

The bell jingled as I closed the door, and the sound echoed through the small reception area. A receptionist looked up from her desk, greeting me with a warm smile.

"Welcome to Furry Friends Pet Rescue! How can I help you today?" she chirped, her voice overloaded with a saccharine sweetness that grated on my nerves.

I plastered a polite smile on my face, masking the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "I'm looking to rescue a cat," I replied, my tone clipped and to the point.

The receptionist gave me a nod, unfazed by my brusque demeanor. "Of course! Let me just get some initial paperwork started for you." She slid a clipboard across the counter toward me, and I filled out my name and contact information.

Once the paperwork was complete, the receptionist gestured for me to follow her through a door marked "Employees Only."

Rows of cages lined the walls, each one housing a furry inhabitant in need of a home. The air was thick with the mingling scents of damp fur and disinfectant, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of hope that tugged at my heartstrings. I was here to find a companion who wouldn't let me down like the men in my life have, and more importantly, to give one of these animals the loving home they deserved.

"This is where we keep our cats available for adoption," the receptionist explained, her voice drowned out by a cacophony of meowing. "Let me introduce you to one of our volunteers who will help you find the perfect feline friend."

She pointed toward a young woman wearing a "Volunteer" badge, her hair pulled back into a messy bun and a tired smile etched on her face. "This is Natalie," the receptionist introduced, her voice taking on a note of genuine warmth. "She'll be assisting you today."

Natalie's eyes scanned the rows of cages before she greeted me with a weary smile. "Hi there! What kind of cat are you looking for?" she asked.

I glanced around the room, my gaze lingering on a cage housing a sleek black cat with piercing green eyes. "I'm not sure," I admitted. "I just knew that I wanted to give a cat a second chance."

Natalie nodded understandingly, her smile widening slightly. "Well, we have plenty of cats who would love a forever home," she said, her apparent exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Let's start by introducing you to a few of them."

We spent the next hour wandering through the shelter, Natalie acquainting me with cats of all shapes, sizes, and personalities. Some were playful and affectionate, while others shied away from my touch, their eyes haunted by past traumas.

My eyes scanned the room until they landed on a cage tucked away in the corner, its occupant a small, scruffy-looking cat with only one eye and singed fur. My heart clenched at the sight, and I felt an inexplicable connection to the wounded creature. Natalie approached me, a sympathetic smile on her lips as she noticed my gaze lingering on the one-eyed feline.

"He's been through a lot," she said softly, her voice infused with sadness. "Someone brought him to us after an explosion at a warehouse. He has been here ever since, waiting for someone to give him a second chance."

Without hesitation, I reached for the latch of the cage and swung it open, extending a hand toward the cat. He regarded me with a single yellow eye before tentatively sniffing my fingers. At that moment, I knew I had found my match.

"I'll take him," I declared, my voice firm. Natalie nodded, a knowing smile on her lips as she fetched the necessary adoption forms.

As I waited for the paperwork to be completed, I stroked the cat's fur, feeling peace wash over me. In his damaged form, I saw a reflection of myself—a survivor, scarred but resilient.

As I left the shelter with my new companion in a cardboard carrier, I felt hope stirring within me. Maybe I didn't need a man to fill the void in my life after all. Maybe all I needed was the unconditional love of a one-eyed cat I'd named Loki.