Chapter Twelve
Lachlan
I stood at the stove making French toast while listening to the rise and fall of Chloe’s voice as she talked to her grandmother, Sophia. My mind was back in the woods when I’d been yelling at her earlier. Only the ending of that fight was completely different in my head.
I saw myself tackling her to the ground, flipping her over, and driving deep inside her, fucking her until she submitted.
Even now, the thought had my cock growing hard.
I shook my head in disgust and confusion. What the fuck was happening to me?
Since Belinda died, my libido had been non-existent. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had an erection since then. I scowled down at the pan. If I was going to be honest with myself, I hadn’t. Not once had my interest been stirred. Until now.
Then I heard Belinda’s voice as though she were standing just behind me, whispering in my ear.
And what I want is for you to live…and to love again.
I growled under my breath as the words from her letter came back to me. In the weeks since I’d read her final words to me, I’d found it easier to get out of bed, eat, bathe, and move. My body grew stronger and my mind sharpened again.
But to fuck someone else? In my mind, it would cut the final tie I had to Belinda and I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Even if I did have sex in the future, it would be nothing more than scratching an itch, sating a hunger. I would never have feelings for the women I slept with and I would never take another mate. Never.
I couldn’t allow myself to treat Chloe so callously, not after everything she’d done for me. I was certain that I would have died without her. If she hadn’t been there every fucking day, forcing me to eat and bathe, dragging me out of my house to run with my wolf, I would have faded away to join Belinda in death.
My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I pulled it out. Then I slid my thumb across the screen and lifted it to my ear.
“Yeah?”
Calder chuckled in my ear. “Is that any way to greet your alpha?” he asked.
“Yes, Master?” I replied.
He laughed louder. “I’m glad to hear you still have your sense of humor. I take it things are going well.”
If he only fucking knew. “As well as can be expected,” I answered. “We got an anonymous note last night. Chloe thinks it’s someone’s way of warning us to be careful.” I went on to tell him exactly what the note said.
“A threat?” Calder asked.
“No, more like an attempt to help us.”
“And you agree?”
I grunted as I used the spatula to scoop out the cooked French toast. “Yeah, I do.” I put two more pieces of soaked bread into the sizzling pan. “But I’d still like to talk to whoever wrote it. We need more than vague warnings. We need proof or witnesses.”
Calder was quiet for a moment. “How’s Chloe doing with this? I mean, this has to be stirring up all kinds of shit for her about the death of her parents.”
My body went still at his words and my lungs stopped working. God, I was such a dick. I’d been so consumed with my own pain I’d never stopped for a moment to think about what Chloe might be thinking and feeling. Her parents had died only a few months before Belinda.
I hadn’t known them well, but I’d heard enough to know that they doted on their only daughter. The family was close and loving.
“Lach? What’s wrong, man?”
I shook my head and cleared my throat. “She seems fine, Calder. She hasn’t said anything.”
“Yeah, well, keep an eye on her. Grief is a tricky thing. You never know what might set her off.”
“I will,” I murmured.
There was a loud crash in the background and I heard Ricki yell. “Shit, the pups just took down the TV. I better get in there before Ricki decides to follow through on her threat to neuter me in my sleep. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
He disconnected before I could reply.
Slowly, I lowered the phone from my ear and tucked it back into my pocket. The scent of scorching French toast tickled my nose and I swore, flipping the bread. It wasn’t quite black, but it would probably taste like shit.
I flicked the burnt mess into the trashcan and started again. I’d already made six slices of French toast and cooked half a pound of bacon, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Our metabolism burned so hot and fast that it would take more to keep us going until lunch.
By the time Chloe re-entered the cabin, I’d finished making four more slices of toast and had everything warming in the oven as I washed dishes.
I’d also taken the opportunity to get my shit together. It was time for me to focus. I’d let myself wallow in loss for so long that I’d forgotten to think about the people around me. That had to stop now. At least until Chloe found what she needed. There would be enough time for me to retreat back into my head when this was all said and done.
“That smells great,” Chloe said.
“Thanks,” I said, shutting off the water and drying my hands. I moved to the oven and pulled out two large plates, each holding four slices of French toast and a heaping pile of bacon. “Have a seat.” I motioned toward the table, setting a plate in front of her when she settled into a chair.
I’d already put out glasses and silverware, along with syrup, butter, and orange juice.
Chloe grinned as she took in the table. “Damn, I could get used to this. Want a job?”
I smiled back at her. “No, thanks. I can make the basics, but I think you’d get sick of my limited repertoire pretty quickly.”
She shrugged, grabbing the syrup and pouring thick ribbons of it over the bread. “Maybe, but you’d be useful until then.”
As we dug into the meal, I asked, “How’d your talk with Sophia go?”
“Okay,” she mumbled. “She wasn’t happy about the note. Unfortunately, she shares your suspicious mind and she wants us to be very careful.”
“Did y’all discuss our next move?”
“Yeah. We’re going to start with Miss Emma.” She forked a huge bite of French toast into her mouth, her eyes rolling up as she let out a little moan. “This is amazing, Lach,” she murmured after she swallowed, her tongue coming out to sweep across her bottom lip.
I shifted in my chair, suddenly very aware of the state of my crotch. The abrupt return of my sex drive was already proving to be painful. Literally.
“Uh, thanks,” I replied. “What about Miss Emma?” I asked her, desperate to keep her talking rather than eating.
“Well, she said a few things last night that concern me and I think she would be the one most likely to tell me what’s really going on inside the pack.”
“Will she be in danger if they find out she talked?”
Chloe’s expression darkened. “Not if we come down on their asses first. I don’t know what in the hell is going on in this pack, Lachlan, but it needs to stop. Wolves should never be so terrified of their alpha that they bow and scrape to his every whim. He’s doing something to them and has all of them too frightened to talk. I can’t leave them to deal with that alone.”
I nodded. “I agree.”
“We’ll go see Miss Emma today and maybe she can give us a place to start. She’s been a member of this pack since she mated with Tom a hundred and fifty years ago. She makes it her business to know everything about everyone.”
I studied her as she ate.
“What?” she asked. “Do I have syrup on my face?” She ran her thumb along the edge of her lip, checking for any stray drops of the sweet liquid.
I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of my dry mouth. “Uh, no. I was just wondering how you were feeling about all this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your parents’ death. Darrell. Everything. Is this bringing up painful memories for you?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Maybe a little.” She shoved food around on her plate with her fork. “The pain of their deaths has faded over the past couple of years. I’m angry more so than anything else. I hate that Darrell has had two years to hurt people I once cared about. And I’m also pissed as hell that he’s gotten away with the murder of my parents.”
I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but I held myself back. I hadn’t thought about how she might be feeling until Calder brought it up and now I felt like a heel.
“Maybe we should get going,” I suggested.
“After I finish my breakfast. I meant what I said, Lach. This is damn good and I intend to eat every bit of it. Darrell isn’t going anywhere in the five minutes it’ll take me to eat French toast. Plus I may need the fuel in case I need to kick some ass.”
She had a good point. Though she spoke of anger and grief, Chloe seemed to have accepted the situation for what it was. We ate the rest of the meal in silence and I tried to keep my eyes off her mouth as she savored every bite.
When Chloe finally finished her food and licked her fork clean, I looked down to find my plate empty and my cock as hard as stone. Her obvious enjoyment of the meal had distracted me so thoroughly that I’d eaten every bite of my own breakfast.
“I’m going to go brush my teeth and then I’ll be ready to go,” she announced, shoving back her chair and carrying her plate to the sink.
When the bathroom door closed behind her, I stood, reaching down to adjust myself with a wince.
We needed to resolve the MacArthur pack issues quickly…before I did something I’d regret.