Chapter Nineteen
Ratchet examined the contents of the duffle bag one more time. He had packed Marlee’s clothes, an extra sweatshirt of his, all her treasures he’d brought her over the past weeks, a pocket knife, whatever portable food he could scavenge from the kitchen… water...
Fuck.
Some bathroom items, a flashlight…
Goddamn it.
The wad of cash he’d stashed in the hole in his closet wall.
Shit.
He was trying hard not to break anything. When Marlee was gone, he’d do enough of that. He’d punch a hundred holes in the walls just to remind him what his fucking heart would look like without her around.
He looked over at her. She stared at the bed, her eyes looking numb. The green not so brilliant. She hugged his t-shirt—the one she wore that first night—to her chin.
His chest locked up.
Who would hold her when she had a bad dream in the middle of the night? Who would make sure there was always a light for her when it was dark? Or turn on Glimmer Girls when she couldn’t sleep?
Maybe he shouldn’t let her leave. Maybe—
Keep mate safe, the beast growled. Young too.
It had taken a battle like nothing he’d ever fought to convince himself this was the only way. The beast didn’t want it. The human didn’t want it. But both new it was necessary.
The wounds of that war, were hidden inside and he’d never recover from them.
At least he hadn’t marked Marlee. Now she could go on, and have a life without him. Without feeling like her heart was ripped from her chest. And she wouldn’t find her way back to him. There’d be no mating bond to draw her back. Not after this.
It would fade for her.
But never for him.
Just as well. He was done with females. He’d found his. He was letting her go. And there’d be no other. Ever.
He forced his feet over to her, tugging the shirt from her grip and adding it to the bag.
“Smells like you,” she murmured.
He nodded stiffly. His throat ached with holding back tears he didn’t even know he could cry anymore.
“Keep it, lamb.”
“Do… do you want something of mine? T-To remember?”
The whole fucking room, the roof, chicken pasta, the goddamn chair. It was all a memory of her. He didn’t need anything to remember her by. She was emblazoned on his fucking heart. She’d branded him. He wouldn’t take one breath in this room without smelling her.
But he answered, “Yeah,” anyway.
She rushed forward, ripping the bag out of his hands and rummaging through it. When she found what she was looking for, she took his hand and set the reminder in the middle of his palm.
A green jewel-toned marble. The exact color of her eyes. With a couple scratched up places that could probably be fixed with toothpaste.
Ratchet couldn’t take his eyes off hers as she closed his fingers around it and whispered, “So you don’t forget.”
“No chance of that, lamb. Not ever.”
She gave a brave watery smile. Weak, but it was there. “Maybe after things are safer we can be together again. After—”
The knock at the door interrupted her. Melting the smile into tears.
Ratchet pulled her forward by her neck, pressing urgent kisses to her face. “Gonna be okay,” he forced out. “You can do this, Marlee. You are strong. So strong.” He, on the other hand, was going to crumble to shit when she was gone.
Another knock had him pulling away to fumble with the lock of the door. He cracked it open and his mom slipped in, shutting it behind her.
“Ready for this?” she asked, and he noticed the nervous shake to her voice.
Ratchet nodded. “You sure taking her out the front is the best plan?”
“Yes. Everyone is in the lounge. I can get her through the offices and out of the warehouse.”
“Okay. And you’ll drive her straight to the bus station, right? And don’t leave until she’s on the bus. And watch for the bus to pull out of the station. And—”
“I got it, son,” she assured. “I know exactly what to do.”
Her eyes went to Marlee, and Ratchet saw sadness there. His mom was getting what she’d wanted from the beginning though. She’d told him he would have to let Marlee go.
She was right.
“You ready, hun?” Her voice shook. And why did that set him on edge?
Ratchet shook it off, and went to his mate. One last time, he knelt before her, pulling her belly to his cheek.
Last time. Say goodbye.
He kissed her there, not caring that his mom saw him like this. Broken like this.
“Be healthy,” he whispered. “And when you’re old enough, look out for your mama. She doesn’t like the dark. So you be the light. Make her smile sometimes. Or lots of times. For me, okay? And… don’t let anyone ever take your skin. Don’t let them make you hard. Yeah… okay.”
He hugged her close, feeling her hand in his hair one last time. Breathed her in one last time.
When he stood and found his mother again, her expression was tortured. He knew how she felt about bringing young into the clan.
“Thomas, what have you done?”
“We,” Marlee interrupted. “What have we done.”
His mother looked between the two of them, her face running a gamut of emotions.
“Are you with young?” she breathed.
Marlee frowned. Looked to Ratchet.
“Yes, ma. She’s carrying my cub.”
His mother seemed to age ten years right before his eyes.
“But I’m doing it right. I’m getting them both out of here. Far away from this life. They’re going to be safe, away from me. Away from the crew. Away from the hate and the curse and all of it. Mom, I’m not letting mine be hurt. See? I’m doing right by them.”
She blinked over and over. Seconds passed. He couldn’t guess what was going through her mind, but eventually she nodded. “We… we need to go then. Right now. Before it’s too late.”
Marlee moved for the door, but his mother stopped her. “No! Uh, let’s take the roof.”
Ratchet frowned.
“Changed my mind. Don’t want to chance taking her through the offices. I think it will be safer to cross the roof and go down the other fire escape. The one by the shed. No one ever goes over there.”
“Okay.” He pulled Marlee toward the window, climbing out first and helping his mom onto the landing.
He reached back in for Marlee, but she was over at the dresser writing something on a piece of paper.
Scanning the lot, he motioned for his mother to start climbing, and looked back in to see Marlee messing with the bed pillows before she ran to the window carrying her loaded down duffle bag.
He helped her out, and stood watch as she climbed up after his mom.
And then they were all on the roof, and his beast rumbled inside feeling all the mixed up pain and satisfaction. Pain of losing something so precious. Satisfaction knowing he was doing the best thing for the people he loved.
Loved. Fuck yeah.
He’d done it.
Whether it broke the curse or not, he’d learned to love. And love hard. He couldn’t love his Marlee any harder. And if that wasn’t enough to undo what the witches did to him, then fuck it. Because he’d made magic of his own. And it was growing inside his mate.
And best of all? He could do the noble damn thing. He could do it even though it hurt like hell. And nothing felt righter than doing the noble damn thing for her.
The lion could protect the lamb.
It just meant… he had to sacrifice.
Well… done. Fucking. Deal.
“No time to waste,” his mother murmured.
Ratchet turned to Marlee. Shit. This was it.
He pulled her close, dropping the softest kiss to her lips. But he hadn’t even finished when a sob escaped her throat and she pressed in hard enough their teeth clashed. He tasted her tears, her breath, and soaked it all in to keep for later.
Staring into her emerald eyes, he told her the truth…
“You’re Marlee Benson,” he whispered. “You’re twenty-eight years old. And you are finally free. I love you. Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks and he didn’t bother wiping them away.
His mother wrapped an arm around Marlee’s shoulder and led her across the roof.
His heart attacked his ribs as he watched her walk away, fighting back the tears that wanted free of his eyes. And while the mangled thing was breaking, pieces of it shattering and raining down like broken glass, all he could think was… he was so damn proud of her.
So fucking proud of his mate. His mate that carried his baby. His mate that he’d never see again. Because that’s what it took to make her safe. And he would always, always choose the thing that kept her safe.
It was a promise he’d take to his grave.