Blowing out a wobbly breath, Cinda staggered backwards and sat heavily on the under padded bench. Her ass protested the move, but the slight discomfort jolted her from the weird fuzz overtaking her brain.

Before she could gawk into space too long, she heard footsteps. Just as Jarvis had described, a tall, lanky redhead appeared and looked nervously around. He jolted when he saw her and backed off.

“Jarvis said to go on through,” she told him, keeping her voice low and level. He scowled at her, then shot a glare at the door behind which Toni and her mate had gone.

The kid looked like he was going to bolt, and that was only from her presence there. Or that was what she’d figured.

“Jarvis is in there?” The kid’s voice was croaky, and when she nodded, his shoulders slumped. “Damn. I didn’t want him to know about this.”

“The doctor didn’t think you’d want to be alone with her.”

He grunted. “I would have asked Jarvis about this if I’d thought he could help.” He clenched his jaw, and as he did, a band of freckles appeared under the pale tension gathered about his mouth. He wasn’t a bad looking kid, just way too thin for his own good.

In fact, he looked a bit like Michael Douglas had in his heyday. Back when he and Kathleen Turner had been hacking through the jungle in Romancing the Stone—one of her favorite all time films.

“He won’t bite,” was all she said, not wanting to interfere but well aware that the boy was more likely to run than to step forward. She knew how important this was to Jarvis.

Hell, he was waiting on Claiming her because of it.

Not that she minded. If anything, she respected him for it.

This entire shelter was more than she’d ever expected from her mate. When her brother had upped and joined an MC, the entire family had been stunned and horrified. It didn’t matter that the MC was also a Bear Clan. They’d all been ashamed of Mundo’s choices.

When his brothers had come around and visited the family home, she knew her parents had softened some. All the ones he’d had pop in for visits had been mighty respectful, and they’d impressed her father most of all.

She’d never been all that impressed.

They rode for an MC. It wasn’t like they were fucking lawyers or bank managers. They weren’t even realtors, dammit. Their jobs held no ounce of honor.

As a result, she’d never expected much of her mate. Something she’d never admit to him because throwing that on the fire of all her other confessions was just a step too far.

She wanted to be honest with him, but there was no need to be that honest. Especially when her expectations had been so blown out of the water, she was literally gasping for air.

Whatever she’d expected him to do while she lived her life and allowed herself to acclimate to the notion of being mated to a brother in an MC, it hadn’t been running of a homeless shelter.

That was so far out of the realms of her expectations, she was back in the water once more.

She sighed, hating herself for having judged him, but knew there was little she could to do make up for the past.

The only thing she could do was be here for him now and accepting the repercussions of her actions.

He was going to be clingy and over possessive. And she was going to want to kill him from time to time, but that was her fault.

She’d caused that, and her momma hadn’t raised a fool. She’d take the blame for her mistake and would live with the damage she’d caused. Even if that meant putting up with his Bear pulling temper tantrums. Eventually, all would work out fine.

Huffing at the thought, and hoping to the Goddess she wasn’t underestimating just what a number she’d pulled on her mate, she reached in her purse for a bottle of water. As she started to open the lid, squeaking footsteps came down the hall and a girl appeared about Harry’s age.

Cinda sat quietly in the corner, watching the girl peer into the staffroom. From her vantage point, Cinda knew Jarvis could see her if he turned his head, but the conversation was focused on Harry and it was getting a little heated if Cinda was reading the situation correctly.

And hell, she’d won the Pulitzer twice. She figured she knew how to read a situation.

The girl’s shoulders slumped, just like Harry’s had done at the sight of Jarvis.

“Everything okay?” Cinda asked softly, trying to avoid startling the girl, but knowing it was a bust. The young woman had had no idea she was sharing the seating area with anyone, but she didn’t shriek or jump too much. Just jerked like she’d been shot.

Her head whipped to the side and when she saw Cinda, her eyes flared wide as she backed off. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Cinda tried to reassure, but wasn’t sure if it worked as the kid started to rush off.

Then, the sneakers stopped squeaking against the linoleum, and Cinda heard more footsteps. This time, they were approaching her again.

The kid peered around the corner. “I saw you talking with Jarvis ten minutes ago.”

Cinda nodded. “I’m not surprised. We did make a bit of a spectacle of ourselves in there.”

“I’ve never seen Jarvis get angry.”

“That’s because I’m the one person in the whole world who can do it,” Cinda said ruefully. She’d always known why, of course, but he hadn’t. And it had always perplexed him.

“How come?” The girl stepped out from around the corner and shuffled to the seat opposite Cinda.

She was going to assume that Jarvis’s status as a Shifter was unknown so she stuck to the usual, “I’m his wife.”

That had the girl gawking harder. “Jarvis is married?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t he tell us?”

“It’s a long, painful story,” Cinda murmured, a sad twist to her lips. What else could she say? It was partially the truth.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The girl frowned. “Did you hurt him?”

Such accusation! Goddess. Cinda’s eyes widened at the sudden aggression in the meek child and realized that Jarvis, if he knew it or not, had a shelter full of mini protectors.

The thought amused her.

The ultimate predator protected by a homeless shelter full of prey.

Not that it was politically correct to think of humans as prey anymore, but still, the metaphor was too delicious to ignore.

“I probably did, but he probably hurt me too.” Not that he’d known he’d been hurting her of course. But by simply existing, and by being apart from her, she’d hurt. Internally. A nonstop, constant ache that went with her wherever she wandered on this Earth.

“Are you getting back together?”

Cinda nodded. “You ask a lot of questions.”

A rueful shrug was the girl’s reply. Until she murmured, “I ask them, but you don’t have to answer. Not many people do.”

“Jarvis does though, right?” Cinda hazarded a guess.

A beaming smile was the clue she was right. Why was Cinda not surprised?

“Always,” the girl murmured. “That’s why Harry and I come here. Jarvis looks after us and if we need to know something, or need help, he always pulls through.”

“You’re Leah?” Cinda asked carefully.

Leah nodded, but she shot Cinda a suspicious glance. “How did you know that?”

“Something I heard Harry say,” Cinda fibbed, preferring to maintain Jarvis’s rock solid image in Leah’s mind. If the girl thought Jarvis was talking about Harry and Leah behind their backs, that could be detrimental to the relationship her mate had cultivated. Leah calmed at Cinda’s response, then bit her lip as she peered over her shoulder at the staffroom window.

“You know what they’re talking about?” Cinda asked carefully.

Another nod.

“Is it about you?”

“Yeah.”

“How come you’re not in there, too? If it’s about you, I mean,” Cinda asked carefully when Leah turned around to glare at her.

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet.”

“It must be serious if you want to talk to the doctor.”

Leah pressed a hand to her belly. “It’s not serious. Not yet.”

Cinda bit her lip. “You’re pregnant?”

Leah nodded. “I don’t know how far yet. But my belly’s not showing.”

It wouldn’t. Not for a while considering how underweight the girl was. One square meal a day wasn’t enough, she thought. Not for these kids.

Not for Leah whose too young, too slender body was nourishing a baby as well now.

“Harry’s the dad?”

Leah ducked her head in silent admission. “I’m scared.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. Harry’s a bit older than me. He might get into trouble. Statutory rape or something stupid like that.” She firmed her jaw. “I love him and he loves me. It wouldn’t matter but the baby kind of says we’re doing it, doesn’t it?”

The wry tone had Cinda blinking. “Yeah. Kinda.” She cleared her throat, trying not to laugh. It wasn’t that the situation was funny, but Leah’s tone was.

The girl seemed to realize because she shot Cinda a sheepish grin. It slowly died though as she murmured, “Harry’s in there because he wants Doctor Toni to convince me to have an abortion. Says we’re too young to be parents. Says we can’t look after ourselves, never mind a baby, too.”

Goddess, what could she say to that?

That it was the truth? But an abortion was so… final. A girl, so head over heels for her boyfriend, would never see an abortion as the solution.

“He’s scared,” Cinda replied, keeping her tone bland. “Aren’t you?”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Course I am. But all new parents are scared. Doesn’t matter if they’re poor or rich, my momma always said that you’re never prepared for a baby.”

She wasn’t sure why that solid gold piece of advice wasn’t having an effect on Leah, because Cinda, so many years older than the girl, felt them resonate deeply.

With the Claiming, usually, pregnancy occurred soon after. Not always. But most of the time. Especially at Cinda’s age. She was prime cub rearing material.

If her niece was lucky, Jarvis’s Prez’s daughter too, they’d have a few years left before they’d have to be really careful about falling pregnant. But for Cinda, there was little to no hope.

Was she ready to be a mom?

She doubted it.  

So how the hell was it that this kid, not even legally an adult, was totally ready for parenthood?

Cinda wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or aghast.

Cautiously, so cautiously it was worse than the time she’d almost walked onto a minefield in the Falklands, she asked, “Do you really think you’d be able to do everything you need to?”

Leah frowned. “What do you mean?”

Cinda screwed on the cap of her water bottle, and then leaning forward, rested her elbows on her knees. “Like, do you think you could be a mom?”

“I don’t need you to judge me,” Leah snapped, rearing up onto her feet.

Cinda immediately shook her head. “I’m not judging. I’m asking. Because I’m a hell of a lot older than you and I seriously doubt I’d be ready either.”

Leah, apparently sensing Cinda’s bewilderment, eyed her strangely. “Like I told you, my mom said no parent is ever ready.”

“Did you like your mom?”

Leah flinched at that. “I did until she got sick.”

“How did she get sick?”

The girl jerked her chin up. “Drugs.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“She hurt her back at work, got some meds, then got hooked on the meds.”

There was a whole lost generation to the opioid crisis that had struck before the Twenties had been in full swing. Cinda quickly rifled through her memory banks for all she could remember about that time. Whole families had been destroyed in the aftermath of a period when doctors had been over prescribing opiates to cure ‘basic’ pains. In the end, feeding the addiction was easier and cheaper with heroin than it was with prescription drugs.

In some areas, the poorer communities had known a time where everyone knew someone who’d been affected by the crisis. Be it by death or simply knowledge of someone who was an addict.

To Leah, she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity. Neither does my mom.”

“Is she still alive?” Cinda asked softly, not taking offense at the girl’s snarled reply. How could she?

“Yeah. But we don’t talk anymore.”

“I guess that makes sense. Look at you. You’re living on the streets and you’re staying clean.”

A glint appeared in Leah’s eye and her chest puffed out. “Exactly. I told Harry that. Told him we’re already a thousand times stronger. We ain’t never touched any drugs, and we get offers all the time. But we don’t.”

Cinda pursed her lips. “I’m sure you’d make great parents.”

Leah’s head bobbed with enthusiasm. “We could teach the baby so much.”

Sadness unfurled through Cinda. “There’s more to teach a baby than survival, Leah.”

“What do you mean?” The girl sat up a little, pressed her hands under her ass, then sat on her fingers. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Survival is something you and Harry are doing now because you’re too young. You should be in a home with a family that loves you around you, especially at a time like this. Instead, you have to watch out for shelter and need to be on the lookout for the next meal. That’s your world, but it’s not the world.”

Leah frowned. “We sleep here most nights.”

“Together?” Cinda asked doubtfully, then nodded when Leah shook her head. “So, you don’t stay here every night because, let’s face it, every couple needs alone time, right?” Leah blushed. Cinda ignored it and carried on, “But what your mom said is true. No parent is ever ready. And most parents have a roof over their head and food in the fridge. They have access to all the stuff babies need. I mean, they need cribs and bottles and diapers.” She blew out a long breath. “I don’t know if I’d be able to manage and I’d have all that stuff at hand. You want to do it on the street? I have to say, Leah, I commend you. You’re obviously a very brave woman.”

Confusion cascaded over the young girl’s face like she’d suddenly popped on a mask. Whatever she’d been thinking had been romanticized. Cinda had known that from the start. Hell, it was a long time ago but she’d been young once. She knew how it felt to be in love with someone, to want the world with them.

Of course, she’d never been pregnant but she could empathize.

What she’d have with Jarvis would, ultimately, lead to cubs. Cubs she’d want because they were a part of the pair of them. That mattered. That really counted, and there was no reason why it would be any different with a sixteen year old girl.

“I-I guess I never thought about that,” Leah whispered softly as she stared down at her scuffed sneakers.

“Why would you? You’re busy thinking about food and all the other stuff you have on your to do list to keep going. To keep running.”

Leah peered up at her, then, after gnawing at her lip for a few seconds, murmured, “Harry wants me to have an abortion, and he wants Doctor Toni to encourage me. I won’t have an abortion though. I don’t want that.”

“There are other options.” Cinda sat back again, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, and murmured, “Lots of couples want babies, Leah. Not every partnership is as lucky as you and Harry. Some people love each other very much and never get pregnant. You could help them.”

“I never really thought about adoption. I don’t like it. I know a lot of kids in the foster system. They’re out on the streets with me and Harry.”

“I know, but you’re not talking about putting your baby in the system. You’re talking about adoption.” Cinda shrugged. “Jarvis would help. Me too. There are lots of private centers who deal with this, Leah, who’d be willing to help. Your baby could have a proper home, and all those things you want for him or her, like a nice cozy bed and a crib and all the stuff babies need, their family could provide.”

“But we’re their family,” Leah whispered sadly.

“And that will never change. You’ll always be that baby’s momma, Leah. But…” Cinda paused, then with a laugh, shook her head. “You know, mommas are always so full of advice. You’ve got your titbits from yours and I’ve got titbits from mine. My momma once said to me that being a parent is a sacrifice. She used to tell me that when I was getting her really mad because I was refusing to finish gym class of all things.” She grimaced at the memory. “Me and track never went well together. Anyway, she told me that one day I’d know the true meaning of sacrifice when I had a baby of my own, but that if I wanted to go to college—which I did, not that my daddy approved—then I’d have to make a sacrifice.”

Leah’s eyes rounded. “Holy crap, that’s intense.”

“Yeah. I know,” Cinda admitted sheepishly. “That was my mom for you. She was a little overdramatic.”

“What sacrifice did you have to make?”

“I had to waste so much time running with my brother. We built up my stamina, made it so I could get through track and get a passing grade.” Cinda’s grin was rueful. “I kind of got off topic there, but what I wanted to say is that moms know sacrifice. They give up so much just for the good of their baby because it’s ingrained in them. So, my question is, Leah, don’t you want more for that little person in your belly? Would you wish your life on them?”

Leah blinked. “My life isn’t so bad. I ain’t got no one telling me what to do.”

“True,” Cinda conceded. “I do. I have my boss, and then the government, and then my husband.” She shot a look at the staff room and saw Jarvis was still busy talking to Harry. She turned back to Leah. “You have no boss, so I envy you that.”

Leah bit her lip. “But you got a home, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And food in the fridge, and if you want to buy a pretty pair of shoes from the mall, you can.”

Cinda nodded. “I can. Everything comes at a price, I guess. But hey, Leah, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. To be honest, I might be having a kid soon, and the prospect terrifies me. I’m just thinking out loud, you know?”

Leah eyed her, curiosity written into the lines of her face. “Jarvis has never mentioned you before.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t. I’m a pain in his ass.”

Leah snickered. “Harry says I’m his.”

Cinda winked. “That means we’re doing something right, huh?”

“I guess.” The girl giggled and for the first time truly sounded her age. She let out a long sigh. “I really want to be a mom.”

“I know you do, but you already are a mom, Leah. That’s never going to change now.”

Leah’s mouth dropped open at that, and slowly, she murmured, “Jeez, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course. But sometimes, moms have hard decisions to make. Like yours, she had a choice, you know? She could have fought her addiction because she had you to look after. Now, I’m not judging her, but you know what I mean, right?”

The girl nodded slowly. Then gulping, whispered, “I used to hate her so much for not giving the drugs up. For choosing them over me.”

“Exactly,” Cinda pointed out kindly. “Choices… we all have them. Sometimes they’re selfish and sometimes they’re selfless. I guess you have to figure out what kind of mom you want to be.”

Feeling like she was being hard on the girl when she’d never even meant to get into this conversation, she carried on, “Was that chili as good as it looked? I’m starved.”

Leah ceased staring at her beaten up shoes and glanced at her. “Yeah. It’s really good. The food is always good here. It’s one reason we always come back. Plus, Jarvis, you know, he’s cool. Always wants to help and shit but doesn’t intrude. I like him.”

Cinda smiled. “I do too.”