Chapter Thirteen
The scent of vehicle exhaust burned the air, even from within the motel room Andre sat in. It was plain, but it was clean and neat. The neutral color palate soothed his aching head. The rumble of traffic on the highway outside was unceasing, but Andre welcomed the confusion of the noise.
His fingers ached, and dried blood pooled at his cuticles from digging in the frozen ground. He hadn't finished the job. His animals were still lying out in the elements, rather than being properly buried. But he couldn't go back now.
His joints were stiff as he stumbled to his feet. He'd run the whole way to the city, not even going back to his farm for his truck, and then sat in the darkness of the motel for several hours since. His right ankle didn't seem to be working properly. Gingerly he rotated it, wincing as he heard a soft popping noise. Once he slept he'd be fine. Bears healed quickly.
The water from the bathroom tap tasted disgusting, full of chemicals and minerals, but Andre gulped it down. As he stared in the mirror, he shuddered at what he saw there. The curved scar on his cheek, given to him by Paul Locke, reminded him of how he had very nearly killed a young girl for nothing she had done.
I am a monster and I can never go back.
His heart ached to have Mary in his arms, but he was stronger than his desires now. He would not let himself be blinded by love or hate. It was too dangerous. His attack on the girl had been close to the werewolf community. They would be safe with their family now.
Andre prayed that the girl's injuries were not too severe, and Mary would walk away from her restricting family again. She was strong. He knew she could do it.
But he'd never know if she did. He could never go back to see. As he stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes hardened and his fists balled so tight his knuckles turned white. He had made his choice of revenge over Mary, and there was no taking back that choice. He had no right to ask her to come back to him, and even if she wanted to, he couldn't let her.
"I can protect her from me, if nothing else," he whispered aloud. "I will never put Mary in danger again."
***
Paul Locke opened the door to the root cellar. A waft of rotten potatoes made Mary gag. Her hand flew to cover her nose, and she stole a glance at her father from the corner of her eye. When they had arrived at the old farmhouse she grew up in, he had not said a word to her. He instead told the rest of the family who ran to welcome her home that she was tired and needed rest.
Julia was taken to her own room, and the little ones were pried from Mary's legs by the oldest three boys who still lived at home. Mary had tended to Julia while the doctor was called. Then Mary had been left in her room by herself for several hours until her father appeared at the door and told her to go with him.
Now she watched him, waiting for him to say what it was he was going to say. Paul's face was stoic as he turned to his eldest daughter.
"Mary, your mother and I are very disappointed in you."
Her heart raced. What was he going to do to her? Not only had she run away from home, but she had lived with a Bear. Slept with a Bear. Peter knew that was where she had been these past four weeks. Was her father going to punish her himself, or was he going to involve the whole community?
"I am going to give you a chance to explain your actions. Why did you run away?"
Mary's mind flitted between truth and lies, trying to decide how to answer. The truth would certainly not win her any favor, but he would know if she lied. He always did. She bowed her head. "I was overwhelmed."
"Overwhelmed?" Paul repeated.
"I was working all the time, and I was just tired of it all. I wanted to have time to myself, to be able to read and embrace my Wolf and go running through the woods."
Paul's pale blue eyes narrowed, and Mary felt small and childish, the way she always did when her father looked at her that way. She found herself unable to meet his gaze, though her hands clenched into fists. She held her breath, expecting, waiting… Maybe if you moved a little faster through your chores you'd have more free time. Maybe if you lost weight you'd be able to move a little faster.
Among the Wolves, she had always felt like she was five times too big. She heard the snickers from the others her age when there were gatherings. And more than once her mother berated her for making herself 'ineligible for marriage' as her waist and bottom expanded. Muscle was only as good as it could be seen. Even though she could easily lift a fifty-pound bag of flour, the fact that the flesh under her arms wobbled was enough to label her weak and lazy.
Paul Locke put a hand under her chin and raised her face to look at him. "Mary, if you were that overwhelmed, why didn't you tell me or your mother about it? Julia is sixteen, we could have pulled her out of school to help you. She's going to marry Conrad Milton soon, anyway. She has no need of more schooling."
Because I don't belong here. Because I hate you for taking me out of school and limiting what books I was allowed to read. I'm twenty-four years old, but under your roof, I'm nothing more than a child or a servant.
Her lips parted and Mary caught herself just before she said it aloud. No, that would only make things worse. "I'm sorry, Papa."
Paul's expression softened and he wrapped his arms around her. Hugs from her father were rare, and Mary instinctively leaned into his embrace, blowing out a ragging breath. She closed her eyes, remembering when she was a little girl and her father seemed like the best man in the world. Perhaps–perhaps she had acted too rashly, running like she did. Perhaps things would be better now.
"Now. About that Bear."
Mary tensed again and pulled away from her father. Her lungs couldn't seem to draw breath and she looked up into her father's eyes. Was he truly capable of destroying Andre's farm? Killing his animals so heartlessly? "What about him?"
Paul's eyes narrowed. "I have spoken to Julia about what happened. You stopped its attack, and when you told it to go away, it did. Do you have any idea why that would be the case?"
It took a moment for Mary to understand. When she did, her heart did a double beat. She fought to keep the relief off her face. Peter hadn't told their father that she had been living with Andre, or that he had come to take her away from the Bear and she had refused. Her father didn't know, and as long as he didn’t know, she would be okay.
"I don't know," she said.
Paul Locke's fingers tightened on her shoulders. "Who is he?"
Despair crashed over Mary as quickly as the relief had lifted her heart. He's my soulmate. But how could she forgive him for what he did, what he had nearly done? The look of hatred on his face when he declared he was going to kill her father, the rage as he attacked Julia…
She shuddered. What if he came back? What if he attacked the farm and tried to kill her father? How could she be with her soulmate if that soulmate killed her father?
"I don’t know who he is." Mary tried to squirm out of his grasp. "Papa, you're hurting me."
"You are too old for childish nicknames," he said sternly. "You are to call me Father, Mary. And if you insist on lying to me, then it is not only your disobedience you will be punished for."
Mary stumbled over her own feet as Paul Locke spun her around and pushed her into the dark, stinking root cellar. Something squished under her foot and she prayed it was just a rotten potato. She turned again. "Father—"
"You can stay in there, thinking about what you did. As if your mother isn't sick enough, she nearly put herself in the grave worrying over you. You are a selfish girl, Mary Locke.”
"It's my own fault for giving you so many liberties," he continued as Mary bit her tongue. Arguing would do no good. "Letting you drive. Letting you read unsupervised books at the library. Giving you charge of credit payments. Did you think I would miss the plane ticket you bought? Think about what you have done, and when you are ready to apologize, you may return to your place in the family."
Mary cried out in protest, but her father spoke over her. "And as for that Bear… I will find out who he is, and if I find you lied to me, it will be all the worse for you."
"Father!"
The cellar door slammed shut, plunging her into darkness. Mary rushed to the door, banging her palms against it. The dark was absolute, and the smell clogged her nose and throat, making it difficult to breathe. She was sobbing before she realized, and sank down to the dirt floor, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Andre," she whispered. "Andre, why did you have to rip my soul in two?"