19. Caleb

NINETEEN

Caleb

The shifter, Ned, watched me, his eyes flicking between me and Willow with uncertainty. My palm rested on her lower back, my fingertips pressing lightly against her sweater.

Willow looked up at me, her eyes a combination of relief and wariness, searching my face as though trying to decide if it was good to see me or not. Her lips quirked into a small, hesitant smile, but it didn’t mask the concern that lingered beneath the surface.

“You look better,” I murmured, my thumb brushing small circles against the fabric of her sweater. It was the slightest of touches. I doubted she would even feel it, but it grounded me—kept me focused—and I needed that right now.

“I think I still pretty much look like I got rolled in a truck,” she said with a careless shrug, contradicting her soft-spoken tone.

I looked down at her in amusement. “I said you looked better; I didn’t say you were catwalk-worthy. ”

“So that’s it? You just come back and don’t do what the alpha told you to?” Ned’s gruff voice held a note of challenge in it that I didn’t appreciate.

“I don’t need to.” My stare was hard and full of warning. “Remember your place, pup.”

Ned’s low growl caused Willow to press into my side. I didn’t think she was even aware that she’d done it, but Ned saw, and that was all that mattered. He reined in his temper and straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders.

“I’m phoning Cannon.”

“Tell him I said hi.”

Sliding my hand down Willow’s arm, I laced our fingers together. “Come on, let’s go.”

“We’re going?” She looked between me and Ned, torn. “I’m supposed to go to Black?—”

“Change of plan,” I told her easily. “I’ll tell you on the way.” I took two steps away, but Willow, stubborn and frustrating as always, hesitated. “Willow?”

“Ned’s been here for the last few days,” she said, looking back at him. “It’s really rude to just leave with no warning.”

Sweet stubborn girl.

The slight squeeze on her fingers made her step towards me, and I felt more open to listening to her concerns when there was more distance between him and her. Why was I acting like a jealous idiot? I would analyze that later, but seeing him holding her in his arms, it had rubbed me the wrong way.

“Ned,” I said with a sigh, and I watched his eyes narrow suspiciously. “While I do not have to explain myself to you, for Willow’s sake, I will. I’m heading to see a shaman. I need Willow with me. Do we have a problem with that? ”

His look was shrewd and assessing. “Which shaman?”

I gave a tight smile. “That’s not your concern.”

“The one who licks blood?” Willow asked, looking at me with doubt.

I saw Ned hide his smile at her innocence. Leaning into her as if divulging a secret, I whispered, “I hate to break it to you, but they all do that.”

Her nose was wrinkled in distaste. “I’m sure you’re all half vampires,” she muttered. “It’s not normal behavior.”

“You coming anyway?” I asked her, my tone teasing.

Biting her lip, she looked back at Ned, and I thought I would have to outright kidnap her, but instead, she surprised me. “Is it okay if I go with Caleb?” She didn’t know her hand tightened in mine, but I felt it, and I felt insanely smug that she did.

“Is that what you want?” Ned asked doubtfully. “He has a habit of leaving you stranded.”

“Watch your words,” I warned him again. “That’s twice I’ve warned you now. There won’t be a third.”

I felt my wolf rise, and Ned saw it in my eyes as they changed color. “Alpha.” He dipped his head in supplication. He pissed me off by asking Willow again. “You want this?”

Willow stepped into my body, her sweater warm against my arm. “We need to figure this out, and everyone keeps saying we need me where Caleb is, right? So…shouldn’t I go where he’s going?”

Ned had no comeback for that. “I’ll tell Alpha Cannon to expect your call?”

I merely held his gaze as Willow thanked him for staying with her, and he had no choice but to break the stare as she prattled on nervously until a slight squeeze of her fingers encouraged her to just say goodbye.

Ned handed over the small bag with her stuff in it, and as we walked away from him, I had no doubt he waited to see where we were going, and I was pleased I had the foresight to park the stolen car out of sight.

Willow slowed as we neared the car. “Whose is this?”

“A friend’s.”

“You don’t have friends.”

Looking down at her, I saw her face flush as she looked away. “A few days in the hospital, and you become brutal in your observations.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I assured her, opening the car door. “You’re right, I stole it.” Willow froze in a half-in-half-out position, and I laughed at her uncertainty. “If they want to leave their doors unlocked and the spare key in the glove box, they deserve to get their car stolen.”

She considered the validity of my argument before she nodded and got in the car.

Opening the back passenger door, I pulled out her backpack. “Thought you may want this?”

Willow grabbed it with a happy squeal, and while I drove us out of the lot, she rummaged through her pack. “My wallet! Two notebooks!” she declared triumphantly, holding them aloft like prizes. “I’ve lost one, but it’s better than losing three, right?”

“Right.” I cleared my throat. “I also have the third one, you left it in the motel.” I jerked to the pack. “It’s in the back. ”

She flicked through them, not asking me if I’d looked because she knew better than that by now.

“My phone!” She fiddled with it and then looked over at me in disappointment. “Dead.”

“It’s been a few days since you last saw it,” I reminded her. “Batteries don’t last forever.”

“So reasonable,” she grumbled, stuffing everything she’d pulled out back in. “Thank you for bringing this.”

“I stashed it the night of your crash. I was glad no one had returned for it.”

“Good thinking.”

She was chewing her lip, shooting furtive glances at me until I put her out of her misery. “Speak, Willow. Let it out.”

“Was I too obvious?” she asked with a sheepish smile.

“Bulls in a china shop had more finesse.”

It was nice to hear her laugh, though I saw her wince and hold her side when she did, and I knew she hadn’t recovered yet from the accident.

“Careful,” I said softly, looking over at her with concern. “You just got out. We don’t need you going back in.”

Willow watched me, her smile fading. “You left again.”

I nodded, knowing she’d bring it up. “I had to go. When you get the summons I got, you have no choice.”

“But you didn’t go.” The cuffs of her sweater hung over her knuckles, and I wondered who had gotten clothes for her. Was it Ned? I wouldn’t say I liked how I felt about him doing something so personal for her. “So why did you leave?”

“I attended to what I needed to.” It was a half answer, and she knew it, and she also knew she would get little else from me. That latter knowledge, I didn’t feel so good about .

“Where are we going now, then?” Willow asked. “I can’t believe you pulled rank on Ned.”

“Pulled rank?” I asked her with amusement. “We’re not in the military.”

“But you were?” She had turned even more in her seat to focus on me. “Doc told me that some of you join the armed forces.”

“Doc told you more than you maybe needed to know,” I murmured. Glancing over at her once more, I took a good long look at her. Willow held my stare, and for a moment, I almost forgot I was driving. “You look tired,” I said, turning away, focusing back on the road. She’d already been in one car accident, and I didn’t need to put her in another.

“I’m managing,” she told me, her head dipping down. “It’s been a lot, but I’m doing okay.”

“I’m sorry for what’s happening to you.”

“Are you?” Reaching over, Willow looked like she would touch me and then thought better of it, letting her hand drop to her lap.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked her, hating the feeling of uncertainty when she didn’t answer immediately.

The silence hung heavy between us, and I saw her fingers twist together in her lap, her knuckles whitening as she clasped them tightly, as though she was trying to physically hold back whatever she wanted to say. I heard her exhale, and with a glance, I saw her lips part like she was ready to speak, but instead, she turned her head away.

“Willow? What’s that supposed to mean?” I repeated, my voice sharper than I intended.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shake her head, the faintest, almost imperceptible movement before she finally turned back to meet my gaze.

“It means… I don’t know what it means, Caleb.” Fingers pushed her hair behind her ear. “Are you sorry that our lives are seemingly linked, or are you just saying it because you think you should be sorry and it’s what you think I expect you to say?”

“So…you think I’m lying?”

Biting her bottom lip, she looked away again. “Isn’t that what you do? Lie?”

“Willow…”

She let out a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. That was mean.” She sounded bitter. “Unkind. And no, I don’t actually think you’re lying.” Her chin dropped as she raised her hands to rub her eyes tiredly. “I think you maybe feel guilty…but…”

“But?”

Raising her head, she regarded me with a weariness I knew in my soul. “I don’t think it’s for me.”

Nodding, I pressed my lips together in case I blurted out something harsh. She didn’t deserve harsh. “Maybe you’re right,” I admitted slowly. “I don’t think I am responsible for what’s happening to you.” Tapping my index finger off my temple, I spoke clearly. “I have nothing to do with what’s happening inside your head?—”

“I know that!” Her tone was as sharp as the spark of anger that flashed in her eyes. “I’m not blaming you for the visions, or whatever they are, but there is more to this story—our story, if you will—and you know what it is.”

“Do I?” I hated how hard I sounded.

“Yes! You say you’re sorry, but you can fill in the blanks for me, and maybe if I know more, I can do more. ”

“You mean my past,” I spoke flatly.

“Yes, I?—”

“Don’t need to know,” I snapped, shoving my hand through my hair, frustration building. “You don’t need to know everything. You think you do, but you don’t.”

Twisting in her seat, she glared at me, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Yes, I do.” She spoke over me, cutting me off before I could start. “And it is your fault that I don’t know. This world I’ve been thrown into? This whole other living species that I didn’t even know existed, yes, I think we both know if I didn’t see you , then I wouldn’t see any of it.” Her breathing was shallow as she struggled to keep her temper. “If you stopped shutting me out or leaving, then maybe, maybe we could figure this shit out.”

“That’s not fair,” I protested, a warning tone in my voice not to push it. Not to try to get me to talk about things that weren’t any of her concern.

“Isn’t it?” Willow’s gaze locked on mine, the challenge clear in her eyes. “Caleb—” She broke off, taking in a deep breath to calm herself down. “Look, you know I’ve seen things, and we can’t go on like this?—”

“Like what?” I snapped, signaling and pulling the car over on the road. Switching the engine off, I turned in my seat, looking at her full-on. “Can’t go on like what?”

“Forget it,” she muttered, turning her head away.

Reaching over, I cupped her jaw, turning her head to mine. “What have you seen, Willow?” My voice was quiet, coaxing, the tension an undercurrent that she didn’t miss.

“I’ve seen enough.” Her gaze dipped to my lips and back again. “Enough to know there’s a lot that you need to tell me and some things you need to never share.” Her eyes softened as she looked into my eyes, trying so hard to get past the barriers. “I’ve seen your past, I’ve seen the pain, I feel the loneliness…” Tears welled in her eyes. “You can’t hide from me.”

Her words hit like a blow. Each word was a punch in the gut, and I had to break our stare so she couldn’t see how much she affected me. I’d buried so much for so long; she didn’t get to come into my life and demand answers.

I was damaged, I knew that. The last weeks on the mountain, with only the company of the spirits of the dead, highlighted how screwed up I was.

“I’m not hiding,” I told her gruffly, pulling away from her. “I faced my shit a long time ago.”

“Liar.”

I looked at her, trying to keep a hold of my temper. “Willow?—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Just…no.”

“Just no?” I asked, my voice low, my whole attention on her, knowing she didn’t have a fucking clue how close she was to me losing control.

Willow swallowed hard, sensing that maybe she’d pushed too far. But, dear Goddess, she was a stubborn woman. I saw it in the realization that she was on dangerous ground. I saw her accept it, and I saw her raise her chin in defiance as she held my stare.

Held my stare like Ned couldn’t earlier.

She was so brave.

Or reckless.

At the moment, I wasn’t sure which.

“No.” She wet her lips, her fingers curling into her thighs as she faced me down. “Your bullshit stops today. Right here. Right now.”

“Is that right?” I felt the sneer and couldn’t stop it. “Who the fuck do you think you are, little girl?”

Willow’s heart rate sped up as fury lit up her eyes, her cheeks flushing despite the fact she was squaring her shoulders. “I’m the little girl that’s been drawing your misery for months. So stop with your macho bullshit, and tell me what the hell I need to know.”

Dear Luna, she was stunning. Did she know how sexy she looked as she openly challenged me?

Reaching out, I heard Willow’s breath hitch as I tugged her closer, the fabric of her sweater bunching in my hand. Her lips parted in a small gasp, so close to mine that I could feel the warmth of her breath against my skin. Her eyes were wide with surprise and something else—something that echoed inside me—and I wanted to explore it further, but I knew I couldn’t.

“You don’t need to know everything. Do not ask again.”

Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but she didn’t pull away. Her gaze flickered between mine, and I could feel the tension between us.

Electric.

Dangerous.

She was as pissed off as I was, but beneath her anger, there was something raw, and it matched the fire in me.

“Maybe I don’t need to know it all,” she whispered, the tremble in her voice not from fear. I could sense her arousal, and I almost wished I couldn’t. “But I’ve seen enough, and I need it to make sense.” Her fingers curled lightly around my wrist gently. “You don’t need to carry it alone.”

My grip on her sweater tightened, and I was clenching my jaw so hard it hurt. She was too close. Too close to me, too close to the truth, and yet I was the one holding onto her. I wanted to push her away, but my fist remained tight in her shirt.

I felt her fingers caress my wrist. “Let me in, Caleb.”