6. Cash

Cash scowled, but his Pops just chuckled and kept packing.

"This isn't necessary. I can keep sleeping on the cot."

Pops shook his head, adding another pair of underwear to his bag. "Don't be ridiculous. We don't know how long this young man will be staying with us. You should be able to relax in a real bed."

He couldn't exactly argue with that since they had no idea when Ore's memories would return enough for him to remember where he came from or what happened to him, but it didn't sit right with him, putting his grandfather out of his own house.

"Still," Cash grumbled, "we can make it work. You don't have to leave."

Pops finally stopped and turned to face him. Cash studied his wrinkled face, loving every single laugh line next to his eyes. This man had raised him like his own son when he'd needed him the most, taking him into his home and doting on him. Showing him what unconditional love really meant.

And now, he was kicking him out of his own damn house.

It wasn't right.

Pops's face softened. He shuffled forward and clasped the sides of Cash's face. He had been nearly as tall as Cash in his prime, but his shoulders were beginning to stoop, and he had to look up to meet Cash's eyes now. But when he touched his face like that, just like he had when he was a frightened and angry cub, it made him feel eight years old again. But in the best possible way.

He had never gone unloved in this house with his nan and Pops. They had taken care of him in a way his parents never had. He would literally do anything for his Pops.

"Don't look so upset. It won't be forever." Pops patted his cheeks lightly. "Besides, I wouldn't mind some extended alone time with Martha."

Cash grimaced and looked away. He knew that his grandfather still missed his mate, but it had been years since she'd passed, and he had grown lonely. Still, it was difficult for Cash to think about his grandfather and his special friend like that.

"And she's okay with you staying indefinitely?" he forced himself to ask.

"Oh, yes." Pops chuckled, releasing his face and turning back to his suitcase. "She was rather excited, I'd say. Told me she would get dinner going and expected me at 6:00 p.m. sharp if I expected to eat with her."

There was such fondness in Pops's voice when he spoke about Martha. He was glad that she brought happiness toward the end of his grandfather's life. He deserved it more than anyone Cash knew.

Once Pops had everything packed that he thought he would need, they took everything out to his sedan and loaded it in the trunk. "If you think of anything else," Cash said, closing the lid, "just let me know, and I can bring it to you."

"Or I can come and get it," Pops said with a wry grin. "I'm not going to be held hostage. It's not like we won't see each other at all."

Maybe. Cash wasn't sure how much he'd be getting into town while Ore was under his supervision, but he decided not to point that out. He did glance back at the house though, the upstairs windows glowing against the backdrop of the dark sky. Ore had been horrified at the idea of Pops leaving and tried to offer to sleep on the cot or couch too. When Pops just kept refusing, Ore had retreated upstairs, scent full of guilt.

"Of course you can," Cash said, smiling softly. "What was I thinking?"

Pops squeezed his biceps. "That you'll miss me?"

A lump formed in Cash's throat, and he nodded. "It won't be the same here without you."

"Different can be good." He peered at Cash in a way that made him think he was trying to tell him something. Considering the unsubtle way he'd reacted to the bird, he could guess the kind of different Pops was referring to.

It wasn't going to happen.

"I prefer for things to stay the same," Cash reminded him.

It had actually become a bit of a problem for him when he was a cub.

The therapist Nan had found for him back then had let him know it was completely normal after what he had experienced with his parents. Their volatile moods and constant arguing leading up to his abandonment would make anyone fearful of change.

Even as an adult, it had persisted. He liked knowing exactly where he stood in the world, how his days would go, and what to expect in any given situation, but all of that was getting turned upside down. He had a strange shifter staying in his house. His Pops was leaving, and he would be restricted from some of his Enforcer duties while he played babysitter.

Things were going to be very different for the foreseeable future, and it made him question—and not for the first time since Liam's office—why he had volunteered. Why had he stepped forward and made an offer that would turn his world upside down? Why was he helpless against those big, dark eyes?

He knew the answer though.

It had been… difficult for him to stand there and watch as his alpha asked Ore the same questions over and over again, trying to see if he could catch him in a lie. For the protection of the pack, they had to do it. They had to be sure he wasn't dangerous.

But as the interrogation had gone on and on, it had become more and more obvious that Ore really couldn't remember anything about his life. Worse yet, the longer it went on, the more upset Ore had gotten, even though he'd tried to hide it.

It hadn't mattered though. Cash's panther could scent it on the air, and it had driven his instincts haywire. The drive to protect the little bird warred with his need to do what was best for his pack.

So when Liam had been about to tell Ore he'd be staying in the magically sealable room in the basement, Cash had lost his head for a second and offered up his own place, unable to stand the idea of the young man with such sad eyes being forced to stay locked up, even if the room was quite comfortable. It wasn't like it was a cement jail cell, but he had a feeling it would be especially difficult for a bird to be forced to stay in a basement. Unable to spread his wings, unable to see the sky.

And now, everything was changing.

"I will miss you," Cash said softly as Pops carefully lowered himself into his car.

"And I you, son." Pops grinned up at him.

"Let me know when you get to Martha's."

"I will. Be a good host and listen to your cat," Pops said with arched eyebrows and a tap to his chest.

Cash frowned at him. "I always listen to my cat."

He just didn't always do what his panther wanted.

Pops gave him an exasperated look but didn't respond, simply shut the door to the car and started down the driveway. Cash watched him go, the feeling of disorientation growing at Pops's parting words. It wasn't that he didn't trust his cat's instincts, but he refused to be ruled by them. His panther had one speed: go. It didn't matter if it was about protecting his family, scentmarking the pack cubs, or running full tilt through the woods.

And it would be the same with Ore if he wasn't careful. Already, the tug to return to the bird's side was growing inside him. Instead, he scrubbed at his face and turned to the silent figure on his front porch.

"I'll be back in a bit."

Finlay nodded as he faced him, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "Take your time. I don't have anywhere to be."

Cash appreciated that the vamp had pretended not to overhear his conversation, keeping his attention on the yard and not him and his grandfather. He appreciated even more that he'd been willing to come and hang out while Cash did one final patrol before his duties were relegated to somebody else.

His hackles rose once more at the thought. He knew Liam hadn't done it as a punishment, but it was still infuriating to have his responsibilities limited, even for a short time. Logically, he understood the reasoning. It simply wasn't doable for him to continue his daily patrolling and border checks while also keeping a close eye on their guest, but he didn't have to like it.

And he was going to miss it.

There were other aspects of being an Enforcer, obviously, but the nightly patrols were his favorite. He walked—or sometimes ran as his panther—through the wooded areas that made up a large portion of their territory. No matter which route he took, he always ended at Silver Oak Lake so he could spend a few minutes there before heading back home. Other than his and Pops's house, it was his favorite place.

He and the rest of the pack spent a lot of time at the beach, playing in the water, but at night, with the moon reflecting off the still surface, he felt at peace in a way he usually didn't.

He reminded himself that it wouldn't be forever.

The sun was just beginning to set as he stood at the edge of the lake, staring into the calm water and listening to the steady approach of another person. Saint's scent was as familiar to him as his Pops's, but his appearance in that moment annoyed him. He didn't bother turning to look at his friend as the big tiger came up right next to him, shoved his hands in his pockets, and sighed dramatically.

Cash looked at him out of the corner of his eye but then went back to staring at the water without saying anything. Saint, never one to be able to hold still, fidgeted next to him and bumped his arm against Cash's.

Still, he ignored him.

After a minute or two of silence, Saint sighed again. Louder.

"Are you okay?" Cash asked without looking over.

"I'm fine. I'm not the one moodily staring into the lake."

"I'm not staring moodily," Cash grumbled, throwing him a scowl.

Saint nudged his shoulder with his own, and Cash realized he had his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

He let out a breath and dropped his arms. "I'm fine."

Saint snorted. "Even if I couldn't hear your heart, I'd know that was a lie. How about you try again?"

Cash resisted the urge to growl at his closest friend. "How about not. I just finished my patrol. I'm going to head back home so Finlay can take off."

Stepping in front of him and blocking his view, Saint held his gaze, his own unusually serious. "Listen, brother, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

Rather than coax him into spilling his guts, Cash's defensiveness only grew worse. No matter what Saint thought, there was nothing to share, no secrets to bond over. They weren't twelve anymore with a stolen nudey mag hidden in their tree house. Cash didn't need him to tell him everything would be okay like he had when he'd been too nervous to look.

"Nothing to tell."

"Okay, fine. You want to pretend that it's totally normal for you—Mr. Grumpy-For-Three-Days-If-My-Routine-Is-Even-Slightly-Messed-Up—to invite a strange shifter to stay in your house with you?"

Cash curled his lip at the description but otherwise ignored it. "It'll only be until he gets his memories back."

"If he gets his memories back," Saint corrected softly. "If he doesn't, is he going to stay with you forever?"

His panther practically purred at the idea, but Cash squashed that down and shook his head. "No, of course not. If that happens… Well, we'll figure it out then."

"So he's just going to stay with you for the foreseeable future. Your whole life—your responsibilities as an Enforcer—put on hold while you wait for his brain to heal up, and you don't have anything you want to talk about? You think that's completely normal behavior for you?"

"Drop it, Saint."

Saint hummed and studied him, and Cash refused to look away. "You know you can tell me anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His mouth was suddenly drier than it had been a second ago.

Saint raised his dark brows. "It means… you can tell me anything," he said slowly. "As in, if there's something you'd like to talk about, you can with me."

Cash shrugged. "I'm fine."

Saint threw his hands up in the air and stomped a few feet away before spinning around and stomping back. "You're not fine. Goddess, being your best friend can be a real pain in the ass."

Cash rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

"You looked like you were about to rip Liam's head off while he was questioning that bird. Don't think we didn't?—"

"His name is Ore," Cash snapped and then immediately regretted it.

"See? That," Saint said, pointing in his face in a way that was about to get him one less finger. "Talk to me, man. What's with you and this eagle? Have you met him before or something?"

"No, of course not. It just… It didn't seem right to keep him cooped up in the basement when he'd already been staying at my place."

"While he was unconscious."

"Either way?—"

"Is he your mate?"

Cash's heart jumped into his throw, his eyes widening at the blunt question. "What?"

Saint smiled and clasped him on the shoulders. "You heard me. It's the only thing that makes sense. You being so weird and disrupting your whole life for someone you don't know and we can't be sure we can trust. You'd never risk the pack unless you had a damn good reason."

He stared at his best friend. The words were on the tip of his tongue. It was too early to know for sure—or at least that was what he kept telling himself even though his panther vehemently disagreed—but it wouldn't be the worst thing to talk to someone about it.

Except…

"It doesn't matter," he said softly, shifting his gaze to the water just behind Saint and trying to find his inner peace once more. "As soon as he's better, he's leaving."

"Cash…"

"Don't."

But because Saint was Saint—and maybe had a death wish—he grabbed the sides of Cash's face and forced him to meet his eyes. "No, you listen to me, you stubborn feline. Don't give up before you even try."

"Pack law says?—"

"Then we'll change pack law."

Cash shook his head and sighed. "If it were that easy, Liam would already have done it. The pack doesn't want to change. They don't want people who are different moving here and messing with their perfect little lives."

Saint blinked at him, clearly surprised at the bitterness in his voice. "Whoa. Been holding on to that for a while, huh?"

"Am I wrong?"

Shrugging, Saint dropped his hands and shoved them into his pockets. "No. But what I'm saying is that sometimes leaders have to lead."

Cash scowled at him. "We do lead. But we can't lead people where they don't want to go."

Saint moved around him and started heading back up the way he'd come. "Can't we though?"

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He watched his friend walk away, leaving him even more confused than before.

It wasn't like they hadn't talked about changing things before. Hell, when Liam had first taken over, he'd talked a lot about what he wanted to do, adjustments he thought they should make as a pack, but the more resistance they received, the less he talked about it. Now, it was just something he, Saint, and Rachel talked about when they were alone. Their worries about the sustainability of their pack.

But after what had happened last year, keeping everyone safe from the current volatility of the parahuman world had become their number one priority. Maybe once things were more settled and the new shifter Council—sorry, Guardians—was officially up and running, Liam could once again work on opening their pack up to the possibilities of growing and expanding.

As for Ore?

It didn't matter what his panther wanted from the little bird. Once he recovered his memories, he'd know where he belonged and leave the Silver Oak Pack behind.

Until then, Cash had to live with a stranger in his house, watching him with big, dark eyes and smelling so fucking good it tempted him in ways he'd never experienced before.

What could go wrong?

Cursing under his breath, he kicked a stone into the water and then walked away.