27. Monica

27

MONICA

E ven compared to the slowest night in New York, this has been a picnic.

I had no idea if the night would continue the trend, but my first nightshift at Shandaken Medical Center was exactly that.

Three children came in with flu-like symptoms. I prescribed some antibiotics, then, I had to deal with the most important case of the night. A man in his late fifties came in complaining of chest pains. At first, I acted like every conscientious doctor and believed him. I instructed him to undress from the waist up so that I could examine him. Then, he mentioned that the pain had moved over to his right arm. A minute after that, it migrated to his left leg.

Hypochondriacs are tough. It takes every bit of restraint I have to keep myself from laughing. Worse still, I have to convince them that they're alright. I make my voice sound sweeter and treat them like young children. If that doesn't work, I resort to prescribing mild painkillers. Whenever I do that, everybody's happy. They go home with a cure, and I get rid of a person who's in no need of medical attention.

Wanting to share my experience with Raul, I slept a few hours in the morning, and then headed straight back to Dawson. This was the first time that I had seen the place in broad daylight and it was a buzzing beehive, but still in no way did it resemble a city, or at least not compared to the cities I was used to.

In the city, people are too stressed to even look around them. They check their watches, desperate to get where they wish on time or stare at their phones, mostly oblivious to the world and the strangers all around them.

That's not the case in Dawson. I watched people going about their daily business at their leisure. Pickup trucks filled with lumberjacks and farmers were going in or out of the town, doing lower than the speed limit at twenty to twenty-five miles an hour. No matter where I looked there was no sense of urgency in the air or on any person. It felt as if there were only a desire to do what satisfied them the most.

Another first for me that morning, was the noise that emanated from the brothers' workshop. I heard the characteristic sound of a drill but it was mixed with the banging of a hammer on steel. The noise was so loud it could be heard throughout their neighborhood. I walked up to the door hoping Raul would be at work already, but, when I entered the workshop I only saw a perspiring Sam.

"He's not in yet," Sam said, resting the hammer in his hand against the piece of metal he seemed to be shaping. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm.

"Oh," I said, unsure how to respond.

It was strange because I knew Raul got up early and it was almost noon. I couldn't imagine why he wouldn't be here.

"Sorry," Sam muttered lifting the hammer and returning his attention to his work.

I nodded and didn't ask any further questions. Sam was his brother, not his caretaker. If I'd learned anything about the brothers' relationship it was that only one man could answer where Raul was and why he wasn't at work and that was Raul himself.

I drove over to his cabin and decided to boldly walk on in. I think we have that kind of relationship now, don't we? I hope so. I can't tell if the butterflies in my stomach are from excitement at that idea or plain old nerves, but I push them down and go inside anyway.

The interior was just as I had left it the day before. Two, empty mugs of tea sat on the kitchen table. The fire in the corner hearth had died leaving only a pile of gray ash. As I climbed the stairs, suspicion creeped into me. Had he spent the night somewhere else? With someone else? Dread built with every step I took, but, it didn't sound plausible. I couldn't be that wrong about him. He had been genuine from the beginning. Caring. Loving. Even the idea of him doing such a thing seemed outrageous.

My thoughts continued to spin as I carefully made my way down the hall towards his bedroom. Anticipation combined with the nerves making my heart speed up and a cold sweat forming om my skin. The door was partially open. I slowed as I approached, trying to be ready for anything, including him not being alone, no matter how much I didn't want that to be the case.

I pushed the door open and as it swung on silent hinges, the real explanation became apparent. He was naked, lying on his chest, arms splayed out over the sheets. I took in the scene, elating in the fact that my stupid nerves had been wrong and admiring the view of his well sculpted ass before speaking.

"Raul?" I called, keeping my voice soft to try and wake him gently. I walked to the side of the bed when he didn't respond. "Raul, wake up."

"Hmmm?" he groaned and rolled onto his back.

"It's me. Monica," I said a tad louder. "What's going on? I thought you'd be at work by now."

"Long night," he said groggily with his eyes still shut. He stretched which was distracting but I steeled my will and remained focused. Mostly. "Would you make us some coffee? I'll explain downstairs," he added groggily.

I stared at him for a long moment. What a welcome. This was every bit like Raul. Not.

I wasn't expecting him to jump up and down like an idiot, but this was absurd. The least he could do was get up and give me a hug. I guessed I had set my expectations too high.

I turned and left the bedroom but now I was angry. He slept till noon, had a long night doing something, who knows what, then wanted me to go make him coffee without so much as a good morning or how are you? He had the wrong woman if he thought that's the way our relationship was going to go.

I looked to where the coffee pot sat on the counter and decided that if he wanted coffee, he could damn well make it himself. I wasn't some "yes girl". Before anything else, I wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.

Whatever it was, one thing was certain, he had failed to mention it to me. And that bothered me. A lot. If we're going to have a relationship I wanted it to be based in truth and honesty, not subterfuge and lies. I leaned against the kitchen counter, tapping my fingers on my forearm impatiently. Raul strolled down the stairs wearing only a loose pair of sweats. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

"I don't smell any coffee," he complained, looking around with bleary eyes.

"That's because I didn't make any," I said in a monotone voice.

I saw that he picked up on my irritation because he paused, blinked, suppressed a yawn, then frowned as he nodded. Whether that was a nod of understanding or something else wasn't clear but it did nothing to mollify my irritation.

"Right." he croaked, passing by the table.

He came to stand beside me which only made me tense even more. He darted a glance in my direction then picked up the coffee pot and took it to the sink.

"Well?" I asked, tapping my fingers even faster.

He yawned once again and shook his head as he ran water into the pot. He stepped back and then shuffled around me to return to the coffee pot. He didn't speak until the coffee had started to brew, then he turned and leaned against the counter so that he was facing me.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Sorry? For what?"

He frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor before raising it to meet my steady glare.

"Helena and I went on a mission last night," he said.

"A mission? And you didn't think to let me know? Or your brothers? And since Helena was involved, I can only assume it was dangerous?"

He shrugged and looked away again. He did have the decency to at least look a little sheepish.

"Yeah, but Helena was with me," he said.

"And that makes it all okay?" I asked.

"You're angry."

"You think?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Monica, it's okay. We went to Louisville to track down that vampire clan. I needed to make sure my sister would be safe."

"You did what ?!" I shouted, pushing off the counter.

I couldn't believe that he would do something so monumentally dangerous without the backup of his family, much less without even telling me. What if something had happened to him? How would I ever know except that he never came home? My anger is over ridden by fear. Fear of him disappearing and never returning because he did something this stupid.

"It's okay," he said, a half-smile forming on his face. "We did it. Their Alpha's dead. The threat is neutralized."

"He's dead," I say, amazed at how calm my voice sounds. I push off the counter and pace around the table, shaking my head. "You know, it amazes me how easily you talk about this. No big deal, Mon, just a little murder. Yet you say it like it's something as trivial as taking out the trash."

The smell of the brewing coffee fills the air but today it's not pleasing like it normally would be. Instead it feels more like its promised caffeine is hitting my bloodstream through smell alone. My nerves are jangling as if I've had twelve cups and I can't stop pacing around the table, staring at the floor, the walls, anywhere but him.

What am I doing? With him? With us?

"Monica, I assure you it's not trivial," he said, "but I am summarizing. You don't need the details. Really, you don't want to know. Besides, I'm too sleepy to give you a blow by blow."

I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn to stare directly at him.

"You're missing the point, Raul," I said, narrowing my eyes. "It's not details that I care about, it's you. You're not so good at trusting people, are you? You've been risking your neck out there, and I didn't have a goddamn clue. First you fought your Alpha without a word to me and now you went all the way to Louisville to take on a bunch of vampires . Which, by your own words, was one of the most dangerous threats a shifter can face. Deadly, in fact, but you didn't think I should have at least known about it?"

He turned around and met my glare with one of his own.

"I killed Brad for us. You know that. If I hadn't you and I couldn't be together," he said, eyes flashing amber with anger. "It was the only way to keep you safe. And as for Louisville, Helena saw my sister's death in her orb and that vampire clan was responsible. You think I was going to stand by and let that happen? Play a game of wait and see? Let's get this straight right now. That's now who I am and I think you know it."

He was pissed but so was I. I took a step closer, one hand on my hip, passingly I realized that this is exactly the way my mother acted with my dad when she was angry, but I didn't care. I needed to get this through his thick skull.

"And I don't have a problem with you wanting to protect," I said, raising my voice to outmatch his. "Hell, I'm grateful for it. You want to protect your sister, I get it. I admire it. None of that is the point, Raul. Not a damn bit of it. I need you to get this, when you're with someone, you trust them. Trust me. Don't keep me in the dark. Ever. E specially about things that could get you killed."

"Where is she?" he growled, which did nothing to appease me. Neither did the confusion in his eyes.

"Where's who?"

"The woman who saved my ass," he answered, taking two steps closer. "You know, the mellow, caring woman. Because you're not her."

"That's nonsense," I said. "This is me. This is the real me. If there is going to be an us you need to know that I get upset when I'm being left out."

He was close, staring me down. His eyes narrowed as his mouth twisted into a frown. Then his shoulders dropped, relaxing, and he exhaled heavily.

"I understand," he said. "But Monica, I have a feeling you're not telling me something. What is it?"

And just like that my own anger was gone. Blowing away like dust on a wind of logic and reason. It left me empty. Worried. Concerned. I didn't want to say this. I didn't want to admit it. I knew I had to, but have to and want to are nowhere near the same.

"You're right," I admitted with an involuntary shudder.

I didn't say more though. The words were there, on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't say them. It was as if my mouth refused to do it's job. Raul placed his hand on my shoulder then ran it down my arm in a reassuring gesture. I looked up into his eyes and saw the kindness, love, and loyalty that attracted me to him in the first place.

"It's okay," he said, barely a whisper.

I pursed my lips, nodded, and then forced the words out.

"It's this whole… ‘mating' thing," I blurted out.

"Oh," he said. "Who told you about that?"

"Nora told me," I said, feeling like I was betraying a trust but also needing to be honest with him.

He emitted a low, muffled growl and his eyes narrowed.

"When?"

"Don't you get on her about it," I said, standing up for her and meeting the building storm of anger in his eyes. "It was the other night and it sort of slipped off her tongue. Besides, she's not the problem here Raul. How in the world could you leave me out of that? We're talking about a lifetime commitment, Raul. You don't get to decide something so huge on your own."

"I didn't," he said, his voice even deeper. "It was written. I just…" he trailed off staring into my eyes and the anger in his eyes faded away.

"You just what?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head then locked his eyes onto mine. Butterflies danced in my belly as warmth suffused my skin.

"I agreed with it," he blurted. "We're great together, Monica. You can't deny that."

The butterflies became a storm, exploding into an overwhelm of emotions that left me locked up for a moment. I had to wait for the surge of feelings, thoughts, and sensations to subside before I could speak.

"I don't," I said, but it came out as a whisper from my overly tight throat. I stared into his eyes, feeling the heat radiating off his body, and I knew it was true. I didn't disagree. In the slightest. That didn't change some things though, things that needed to be said. I swallowed, cleared my throat, then pushed through. "Two things, though."

"Only two?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Shut up and listen," I admonished and he chuckled.

"One, my divorce isn't final yet, but two… two is the big one Raul…" now I trailed off, unsure how to say it, but I couldn't not say it.

"And two?" he prodded.

Pressure built behind my eyes and I had to clear my throat again before I could continue.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to make another commitment. Not so soon. I just got out of a… bad relationship. Rushing into another one… you can agree with all the prophecies you like, Raul. That's not going to make them come true."

Suddenly the room was too small and there wasn't enough air. I had to get outside. Had to be able to breathe.

"Monica…"

He could have said my name ten times or more or he could have tried to stop me from getting out, but he didn't. Right then my frustration was too great to listen or stay there anymore. Raul had to learn that life was not so simple.

The words some witch had written however long ago about us, didn't mean we were bound by it. That I was bound by it. We hadn't had a chance to really get to know one another. WE were still discovering each other. Learning one another's strengths and weaknesses. All the things that were supposed to happen naturally over time with a couple. I wasn't going to short-circuit all of that based on some words on a yellowed piece of paper. No, I wasn't ready to commit to him like that. Not yet.

The screen door slammed shut behind me as I emerged into the air.