8. Cash

"He was sobbing so hard I could barely understand him, but then he shoved the thing right up to my face and said, ‘Why isn't it healing, Papa?'" Pops grinned at him from across the table before turning back to Ore and continuing to regale him with a story from Cash's youth. It wasn't the first, but it may have been the most humiliating. "He used to call me Papa until he got too old and too cool. That's when I became Pops. It stuck, and now, pretty much everyone in the pack calls me that."

Ore smiled widely, his eyes dancing as he glanced between the two of them. "I like Pops. It fits you."

Cash grumbled under his breath and took another bite of spaghetti, pretending like he wasn't embarrassed by his grandfather doing the verbal equivalent of bringing out his baby pictures. He wasn't sure why he hadn't expected it since Pops loved telling stories about Cash as a cub to all of his friends—or really anyone who would listen. But it felt different, sitting there and listening to the familiar retellings of the time Cash had gotten into a fight with Saint over a favorite toy or when he'd spent a week pretending to be a frog, as Ore laughed in delight and gasped in all the appropriate spots.

Not bad different. Just… vulnerable different. Like Ore would judge him as unworthy. Unworthy of what exactly? He wasn't letting himself think about that.

"So anyway," Pops continued, waving his fork in the air, "I had to try and explain to four-year-old Cash that not every animal in the world was a shifter, and sometimes when they got hurt, they didn't get better."

Ore's face dimmed. "Did the bird die?"

"Oh, no," Pop said, grinning, "not with my special little helper assisting me as I worked to keep him alive and healthy until his wing was better." He turned a softer smile on Cash. "I'd never seen Cash cry like he did when that bird flew away."

"Alright," Cash muttered, taking a swig of his beer. "Let's change the topic."

Ore snickered under his breath, daintily eating some of his own spaghetti. He'd cut up the noodles into tiny pieces and was using a spoon to scoop them up. In response to Cash's staring at the process at the beginning of the meal, Ore had just shrugged and claimed he didn't like getting messy from the long noodles.

It was oddly endearing to Cash, but he did his best to ignore the way his body warmed with affection. After the last few days of the two of them being holed up together, it was getting more and more difficult.

"Whatever you say, son," Pops said, still grinning like the devil he was. "I heard yesterday that nobody's seen you since Ore here arrived." He raised his bushy gray brows at him. "Are you keeping this young man under lock and key?"

Cash bit back a groan. That was not the change in subject he'd wanted, considering Ore had barely made it a single day before starting to ask when they could get out from inside the four walls of Cash's house. He claimed it wasn't natural for birds to be cooped up like that, and while Cash empathized—since he was going a little stir-crazy himself—his orders were to keep an eye on the eagle until he was ready to go on his way. Letting him wander around the rest of the pack in their tiny town just seemed like a recipe for getting people upset.

Ore gave him a look before staring down at his plate once more, pushing his food around instead of eating. His uncertain scent poked at Cash's panther, urging him to make everything better.

Cash sighed. "The door isn't locked, but I thought it'd be for the best if we stayed here."

His grandfather huffed at him, setting his utensils down and pointing a finger bent with arthritis at him. "Cash Lawson, you listen to me. This man is not a prisoner. He is our guest. Now, you take him somewhere that isn't this house. Let him stretch his dang legs, son."

Ore beamed at the old man.

His panther didn't appreciate the scolding. No matter how old he got or how high he rose in the pack, he'd always see his grandfather as the head of their family. Disappointing him was almost as bad as disappointing his alpha.

"I'll check with Liam," he said and turned back to his pasta. "We should visit with Fern anyway. Have her check you over."

Ore nodded. "Whatever gets me outside."

Pops beamed at him with pride, easing his panther's agitation. They finished eating without any more embarrassing stories, Pops filling him in on pack gossip instead. He'd already heard most of it from Saint and Rachel, but Pops liked to put a dramatic flair to the way he shared things, so he didn't mind. Ore seemed happy and entertained as well, despite not knowing who Pops was talking about.

After dinner, the three of them sat in the living room for a bit, the evening news on in the background. Pops turned a bit nostalgic, telling Ore about his late mate. Cash didn't contribute much, his heart aching at her loss even after all these years. It didn't take long before Pops started wearing out, the pauses in his stories growing longer.

Cash offered him his room back for the night, not liking the idea of him driving back to Martha's while he was so tired, but he waved him off. "I'm not so old yet I can't drive in the dark. Stop your fussing."

He hugged Cash tightly, running his palm down his neck in a quick scenting. Then, he surprised Cash and Ore by pulling the eagle into an embrace as well.

"Don't let Cash be too grumpy," he stage-whispered, planting a hand on the top of Ore's shoulder. It was as close as he could get without actually scenting him, something usually reserved only for packmates.

Ore swallowed and nodded, standing a little straighter under the light touch. "I'll do my best, Pops."

Cash rolled his eyes and followed him outside, Ore lingering next to the couch. As soon as the front door was shut, he muttered, "I'm not grumpy."

"I know," Pops said, slowly descending the porch steps. "You're just too serious for your own good."

Frowning, he watched as Pops used his cane to navigate the uneven ground. "I have a serious job and?—"

"No one is saying you don't." Pops opened the door to his sedan but turned to Cash before climbing in. "But protecting the pack can't be your whole life."

Cash reared back. "I've worked hard to become an Enforcer. I don't want to give that up."

Pops cupped the side of his face, his smile soft and a little sad. "I'm not suggesting you give it up. I'm suggesting there is more to life. Don't miss out on something wonderful because you think you can't have both."

He stared at his grandfather, not sure what to say. It was no secret what—or rather, who—Pops was talking about, but he was wrong. Cash couldn't have both. Even if Ore wanted to stay once his memories were back, that didn't mean he'd be able to.

And then where would that leave them?

He stood on the front porch, watching until the taillights disappeared, and then took a steadying breath. It was getting late, around the time he and Ore usually headed to bed. A shiver of heat ran down his spine, and his cock twitched in his pants.

He tried not to think about what happened at night during the day. Neither of them brought it up, and he'd convinced himself that if he acted like it was normal, then it wasn't a big deal. But he knew, without a doubt, that if he let himself think about the fact that the bed in the downstairs bedroom now smelled like both of them, then he'd be walking around with an erection all day.

The first night hadn't been that bad. He'd figured that Ore was just scared and disoriented and needed another body nearby, so he'd let him get in bed with him. He'd still been awake when the little bird had scooted up behind him, but he hadn't actually touched Cash. He'd been surprised that his cat had been okay with having a stranger so close to his back, but if anything, his panther had been too pleased with the development.

The second night, he'd felt the tips of Ore's toes and the brush of his nose, but that was it. That was the only places they touched, so he'd told himself it was fine. Maybe Ore got cold and needed the extra body heat from Cash.

He should have known the sweet little bird was just biding his time.

Last night, Ore hadn't even bothered to wait until he thought Cash was asleep to move closer. The second he'd slid into bed and turned so he was facing the door, Ore's small body was plastered against his back, his face smooshed between his shoulder blades. He'd sighed like it was the best feeling in the world and passed out almost immediately.

It had taken Cash a lot longer to fall asleep.

Their weird game of snuggle chicken was bad enough, but what was worse was the fact that each morning, Cash woke up wrapped around Ore. That morning, he'd had Ore flattened on his stomach on the mattress, most of his considerably larger bulk thankfully off to the side. One of his legs had been thrown over Ore's and one of his traitorous hands trapped under him. His fingers had been right over Ore's delicate collarbones, and Cash just knew that if he didn't figure out how to stop his sleep groping, he was going to wake up soon with his palm cupping Ore's throat possessively.

Thank the goddess, he always woke first and was able to slip from the bed before Ore realized how handsy he got with him while unconscious.

He told himself they needed to stop, that Ore needed to sleep upstairs by himself, but he knew he'd never actually tell him that. Fuck, a part of him was excited to see how far Ore would push that night. Would he wrap an arm around Cash? Would he ask him to turn around?

Would Cash have the strength to say no?

Snorting, he turned to face the door, the glow from the lights inside welcoming.

If he turned over in the bed to face Ore while they were both wide-awake and his alluring floral scent spiked with citrusy arousal, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from reaching over and getting his hands all over him.

His panther was growing more frustrated by the day, demanding he take action and growling in annoyance every time Cash turned away when Ore smiled up at him. Or lightly touched his arm while they were on the couch together. Or softly thanked Cash for every tiny thing he did for him.

Goddess, those thank-yous slayed him every time.

Cash had to stop his chest from vibrating with a loud purr every time he did the most basic stuff for the little bird, his cat so pleased with them for taking care of him.

He knew what these things meant. He wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't oblivious, but he also knew it couldn't mean anything. He'd dedicated his entire life to his pack, had worked hard to become an Enforcer and someone his alpha could trust.

They didn't allow non-cats to join. That was it. End of story. So there was no reason to acknowledge the pull between them out loud. It was in both of their best interests if they never acted on the feelings because the fallout… it would be catastrophic.

There was no point. Not unless he was willing to leave everything behind and go with Ore once he remembered where he belonged and was asked—politely but firmly—to vacate their territory.

A week ago, he'd have snarled in the face of anyone who'd even jokingly suggested he'd consider giving up everything he'd ever worked for.

But now?

He couldn't say he wasn't at least a little tempted. As he lay in bed next to Ore, he'd let himself imagine the future they could have, the images playing in his head as Ore's heat and scent sank under his skin and wrapped around his heart.

He imagined a million more of Ore's sweet smiles. A hundred more meals with him and Pops teasing him. A thousand nights sprawled on the couch together as Ore watched his silly reality TV and Cash scented every inch of him.

Except… what if Ore already had a mate? Or a family he was close with who missed him terribly. Cash didn't know the most basic things about the little bird—so why should he consider even for a second throwing away his own life. The one he'd worked for since he was a kid.

More importantly… how could he risk being anything like his parents?

Everyone said that a fated mate brought out the best in you, that you were two sides of the same coin, that you were soul mates destined for one another…

But Cash knew differently.

He knew that just being fated for another didn't make either one of them a good person. It didn't mean there was anything good inside them to be brought out. The sides of the coin could be ugly and hateful just as easily as loving and kind.

His parents had been fated, and yet they'd made themselves, each other, and Cash miserable every day right up until they'd taken off to goddess knew where.

Despite what everyone claimed, he knew that just because somebody was supposedly picked for you by the goddess, it didn't mean your life would be perfect and rosy after you met them. People were still people, and they could hurt each other and be disappointments with or without the help of a deity.

When he was a kid, he'd promised himself he'd never let what happened to his parents happen to him. He'd never allow himself to become so consumed by another person that he'd lose piece after piece of himself until there was nothing left.

His pack had become his family, his stability and grounding force, after they left, packmates helping his grandparents without hesitation or needing to be asked. All he'd ever wanted to do was return the favor, protect them like they'd protected him.

He wasn't going to give up everything he'd worked for just because sad eyes and an inviting smile made his panther stir inside him.

He needed to stay strong and stick to the plan. He'd watch over Ore until he was ready to leave, and that would be it. Nodding to himself, he stepped back inside, finding Ore in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes. He kept reminding himself of that as they quietly worked together to put the kitchen back in order, the silence between them soft and easy.

It was shocking how easily he'd grown used to having Ore there with him. He liked living with his Pops—helping him when he needed it and keeping each other company—but having Ore stay with him was different. No matter where he was in the house, Cash could feel him, an electrical presence that pulled at him until he'd go to find Ore. They would gravitate toward one another without thinking, ending up at the kitchen table or the couch, each doing their own task but close by each other.

Cash tried not to let himself like it too much, knowing how temporary it was, but his panther ignored him, reveling in having Ore nearby all day and night.

"Cash," Ore said softly as they finished putting the last items in the dishwasher.

He grunted a reply, setting it to turn on so that they would have clean utensils in the morning.

"Are you really going to ask Liam if I can leave the house?"

Cash glanced over his shoulder and studied the hopeful look on Ore's face. He was wearing another of Cash's T-shirts, even though Rachel had brought a stack of borrowed clothes over that would fit him better.

Ore had thanked her, brought them up to the loft, and then never touched them, continuing to pilfer shirts out of Cash's drawer instead. Neither one of them acknowledged it. Cash liked it too much to even pretend to force the issue. Ore just looked so delicate in his enormous shirts. And he smelled like Cash's, something his panther couldn't get enough of.

The look on his his grandfather's face when he'd seen Ore had been like a bucket of ice water to the face though. Ore didn't belong to him. Confusing his panther about it wasn't a good idea.

"I said I would." He ignored how good it made him feel when Ore beamed at him.

"Thank you! I promise not to be any trouble."

Cash narrowed his eyes and took a step closer. "I'm not worried about you being any trouble. That's not why we've been staying here."

Ore shrugged like he didn't really believe him and glanced away. "I know it's a pain for me to be here with you, keeping you locked down as well, so I just appreciate you being willing to bend the rules for me."

Cash stared at him. "You aren't a pain," he said clearly.

Had Cash somehow made him feel like he was? The thought made him uneasy.

When Ore didn't look up, he did something incredibly stupid. Gently, he gripped Ore's chin, tilting his face up so he had to meet Cash's gaze. Fuck, he was so tiny, so delicate. Cash wanted to wrap himself around the tiny bird and keep him safe.

He also wanted to do some not-as-nice things to Ore's perfect little body, but he shoved those thoughts away.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice huskier than it had been a moment ago. "This pack can be wary of outsiders. I just didn't want anyone getting upset. That's the only reason we haven't gone anywhere, okay? You're not a pain or an inconvenience. I volunteered for this, remember?"

Ore licked his lips, staring into Cash's face. Goddess, those full lips might be the death of him.

"I remember," Ore murmured. "Thank you for that. I would definitely rather be here than in the basement of Alpha Amato's house."

Cash nodded, releasing his hold on Ore's face slowly and trailing the backs of his fingers down the front of his throat before he could stop himself. Ore sucked in a breath, pupils blowing wide. A low rumble began to grow in Cash's chest, but he coughed and took a step back.

"You're welcome. I'll text him in the morning, but I'm sure he'll say it's fine." Shit, his voice was raw, his pants getting tight as Ore's scent intensified in the cozy little kitchen.

Ore held his eyes a moment longer, running his teeth over his bottom lip. "Thanks, Cash."

He watched him walk out, heading toward the front of the house so he could go upstairs. Cash couldn't look away until he was out of sight, the drive to stalk after him so strong he had to grip the counter to stop himself.

Running a hand over his short hair, he turned off the lights and then headed to his temporary bedroom. Ore was going to stay upstairs or pretend to try and sleep up there. Every night, he went up to use Cash's shower and grab a new shirt to sleep in before coming down and getting into Cash's bed. He was usually already in there by the time Cash finished his own routine in the downstairs bathroom.

He was standing under the hot spare, doing his best to will his dick into cooperating, when he heard the faintest of creaks, his head jerking up to face the door that led into the bedroom. Ore was in there already, the sound the same one he heard every night when they climbed into the bed.

So much for stroking one out to take the edge off. It felt… wrong to touch himself like that while Ore waited for him just a door away.

Fuck, what were they doing?

He dried off, doing his best to will away his arousal and steady himself. If they were going to keep sleeping in the same bed, they might as well sleep upstairs in his loft. Pops's bed was a little firmer than he liked, and he figured Ore would prefer being up higher off the ground. He'd wait to invite Pops back though—there was no way for him to believably convince him there was nothing actually going on between him and Ore.

Hanging up his towel, he stepped into the bedroom. The lights were already off, and Ore was curled up in the middle of the bed, facing the door. Or Cash's side of the bed, depending on how you looked at it. His eyes were already shut, breathing even, so Cash decided he'd bring up sleeping upstairs in the morning.

He'd barely settled the covers over him before Ore's skin was pressing against his own.

Just his skin.

Cash sucked in a breath. The thin material of one of his T-shirts usually separated them, covering Ore's tiny body from neck to knees, but he'd apparently decided to go without for the night.

He lay there, tense as a board, as he tried to figure out what—if anything—he should do. He had to bite his lip to stop a groan from breaking free when teasing fingers trailed down his back next to his spine and then over his hip.

Fuck, he was temptation personified, and Cash didn't know how he'd make it through the night.

"Cash?"

That was new. They'd never spoken in bed before beyond that first night when Cash had told him to go to sleep. It helped them pretend they weren't crossing major lines every time they got under the covers—or at least it did for Cash.

"Yeah?" he rumbled, his hands fisting in the bedding in front of him. He wasn't going to turn around. Ore could sleep naked if he wanted to. It'd be hypocritical of Cash to demand he put on a shirt when he never wore anything.

"Can I ask you a question?"

If it was "Why do you smell like arousal?" Cash was going to go sleep on the front porch.

"Yeah," he said again, not moving a muscle even as Ore snuggled in closer, languidly rubbing his soft cheek against Cash's shoulder. Scenting him.

"The stories that Pops told," he said softly, tentatively, like he wasn't sure if it was okay. "He never mentioned your parents."

Cash stiffened in a hell of a lot less fun way.

That wasn't what he'd been expecting. It also wasn't a question, so he felt just fine not saying anything.

After a moment, Ore's fingers twitched where they rested on his hip. "Why is that?"

"I spent a lot of time with Pops and Nan growing up, and then I moved in with them." He kept it simple, straight to the point. He was hoping that would be the end of it.

He should have known better.

"Are they still alive?" Ore asked delicately.

"Probably."

There was a loaded silence after his snarled response. That would definitely put an end to things. But then Ore ran his fingers down his back again, comforting him even after his rude answer.

"They don't live around here?"

Cash ground his teeth together. He took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly. He was a grown man. He could talk about his parents without turning into a surly asshole.

"Scoot back, Ore," he said. The scent of shock and then hurt burned at his nose, but Ore moved without hesitation, murmuring a nearly inaudible apology.

When Cash flipped over onto his other side, he saw the little bird was practically falling off the other edge. He raised his brow and then lifted his arm, gesturing him forward. "Come here, hatchling."

Ore's cute little nose wrinkled in annoyance even as he dove forward, burying himself against Cash's chest. "I'm not a hatchling. You're just enormous."

He chuckled, running his rough hand down Ore's smooth spine, stopping at the small of his back before sliding back up. He used the small movements to soothe Ore until the scent of his pain had faded from the room.

"My parents left when I was eight."

"They left the pack?" Ore clarified, wiggling even closer so that the tip of his nose was pressed to the hollow of Cash's throat. He fit with Cash perfectly.

"Yes, they left the pack and me," Cash said simply, keeping his voice steady by force of will.

Ore's anger filled his nose. "They left you? You didn't choose to stay or come back later?"

"No," Cash said, stroking Ore's back once more to calm him. "One day, they dropped me off here, which was normal. They pawned me off on my grandparents more often than not anyway, but they never came back that night." He stared at the dark wall behind Ore, remembering that day and the one that followed clearly, even after all the years that had passed. "That wasn't unusual either, so I stayed the night, and the next morning, Pops drove me back to their house."

Cash could clearly recall the way his stomach had churned as they'd gotten closer to the dilapidated one-story house they'd lived in near the edge of the pack's territory. He had known that something was wrong, off. The way his mother had hugged him before leaving the day before had been strange. She usually barely looked at him when he got out of the car before driving off, but she'd held him tightly for a long couple of seconds before sending him inside the house and leaving.

"When we went inside, I could tell something had happened," Cash said carefully, keeping his voice as even as he could. "Things were overturned. Other stuff had been emptied. Pops must have realized what had happened before I did because he asked me to go wait out in the car, but I ignored him and went down the hall to my parents' room."

"What did you find?" Ore asked quietly when he paused.

"All their shit was gone."

"Oh, Cash," Ore said, rubbing his fingers back and forth against Cash's chest. "I'm so sorry. How could they have just done that?"

"They weren't good people," Cash said clearly, an edge to his tone that he couldn't stop. "Pops and I packed up my stuff, came back here, and never really talked about it after that."

"He didn't talk to you about what had happened?"

Cash shook his head. Though, with the way Ore was buried against him, there was no way he could see it. "Not really. Every once in a while, he or Nan would make a comment about their daughter, but they never called her my mom, not after that day."

"And they never came back?"

"No, Ore, they never came back. Good fucking riddance."

Ore slipped an arm around Cash and gave him a squeeze. "Goddess, you were just a cub. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

He was too, but it had taught him valuable lessons about how love didn't necessarily mean sunshine and rainbows. That it could bring pain and anger. Darkness and despair.

In the end, he knew that they had done him a favor, leaving him to be raised by two people who loved him more than anything, but the damage had already been done.