Chapter 15

Book:Emmitt's Treasure (Companions, Book 2) Published:2024-5-1

I stopped at her apartment door to knock, but forgot to when I saw her.
She was standing with her back to the living room as she stared at the contents of her refrigerator. Her dark hair was pulled back into her customary ponytail, but it wasn’t as smooth as usual. Little wisps had escaped. She turned her head slightly so I could see her profile. Jim was right. She did look tired.
She closed the refrigerator then opened the freezer and removed a large package of meat.
“Can I help?” I asked from the door.
She glanced over her shoulder to look at me. The pose, the angle of her head… I swallowed hard. She was so beautiful. So humanly fragile. So mine.
When she frowned and looked like she would say no, I quickly held up the bottle and hoped Jim knew what he was talking about.
“I also brought wine. Jim said you needed it.”
“One glass,” Winifred called up the stairs.
Michelle’s lips twitched at Winifred’s words. Seeing an emotion other than fear or worry had me responding with a grin and a wink. Then, Michelle surprised me further by nodding.
My pulse leapt again as I stepped into the apartment and made my way to the kitchen. Her humor faded, and she watched me warily. I pretended not to notice and didn’t let it destroy the moment. She’d let me in, and I was coming to realize it was two steps forward and one step back with her. She was prickly like that. It just meant any progress with her would be slow.
Finding the biggest glass in the cupboard, I set it on the counter and filled it to the top with wine. It would give Michelle the chance to drink as much as she wanted without me disobeying Winifred.
When I glanced at Michelle, I saw her worried look. Did she think I was trying to get her drunk?
“You don’t have to drink any,” I said.
She responded by picking up the glass and taking a large swallow before removing the meat she’d put in the microwave. I stood back and just watched her for a moment, basking in her company and her scent. I especially liked the way she moved. Slow and sure. My gaze fell to her long legs—I needed to thank Winifred for the cutoff shorts. Realizing the direction of my appreciative gaze and thoughts, I cringed. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be riding Michelle’s knee again.
When she tossed an onion my way, my gaze was properly on her face once more. We worked side by side to make the meatloaf for dinner. The smell of the food wasn’t enough to cover her emotions, which seemed to shift with each sip of wine. She had something on her mind, and I kept quiet, hoping she’d realize she could talk to me. About anything.
But when she did speak, I wasn’t ready for what she said.
“He locked them in their room when he got tired of them.”
We both froze. I could smell her surprise as I struggled with my anger. I wanted to know who locked them in their rooms, but knew now wasn’t the time to push for more information.
I quickly washed the food from my hands then turned her to face me. Her cheeks were flushed; from the wine or what she said, I couldn’t be certain.
I remained quiet, waiting for her to look up. When she did, she kept talking, a small sign of trust.
“My mom died just after Aden was born. My stepfather, their dad, died two days before I saw you at that diner. I’m all my brothers have. I won’t let them be locked in a room again.”
“David will never get the chance,” I promised. If I ever saw him again, he was a dead man.
Something flitted across her features. I lightly breathed in and tasted her confusion as she studied me with a slight frown.
“I’m not afraid of David,” she said before she turned away and poured the rest of the glass of wine into the sink. The move signaled the topic was now closed, and I wished she wouldn’t have shut me out.
She put the meatloaf in the oven then brought out a bag of potatoes. When she handed me a few, I washed them for her. Although I knew she was done talking, I still had so many questions. If it wasn’t David she feared, then who? Who locked her brothers in a room? Who was after my Mate? Who were Blake and Richard?
Not ready for another unmanning, I kept my mouth shut. So did she. And she remained quiet all through dinner. As soon as we all finished eating, she asked to clean up alone. I hated leaving her—it felt like losing ground—but did as she asked.
Downstairs, Aden and Jim challenged Liam and me to races. Wolf style, but no fur. Winifred scolded his wording but didn’t say a thing when he got down on all fours and started racing around the porch.
When I gave her a questioning look, she shrugged.
“Little bits of information at a time can sometimes help ease a transition.”
I wondered if she knew Jim had said something very similar to me. Most likely not. She didn’t like when Jim sounded like an Elder, or was right.
I looked down at Liam, whose gaze was bouncing between Winifred and me. Ruffling his hair, I dropped to my knees.
“Hang on to my shirt because we’re going to win.”
He grinned and climbed onto my back.
We’d only managed a few official laps when I heard Michelle on the stairs. I almost stopped, but Liam’s heels dug into my sides in an effort to keep me moving.
“Ready for them to come up to bed?” I heard Winifred ask.
“Not yet,” Michelle said. “Could you watch them a little longer? I was hoping Emmitt and I could go for a ride.”
I put on a burst of speed to round the third corner as Winifred answered.
“You smell like wine. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Winifred, you’re killing me.
If she’s drunk, do you think it’s wise to have any type of serious conversation?
Serious? No. Conversation? Yes. This means she’s willing to listen, and I don’t want to throw a chance away.
“It’s the only one I have.”
Michelle’s soft, desperate words had me racing for the next bend.
“Of course, I’ll watch them,” Winifred said.
I turned the corner just as she added, “I’ll put them to bed for you, too.”
Stopping before the women, I let Liam climb off then rose to my feet. The boy looked up at me with a disgruntled expression, and I mussed his hair with a smile.
“This doesn’t mean they won. We’ll just need to race them again tomorrow. Okay, bud?”
He nodded and reluctantly went to sit by Winifred.
Meeting Michelle’s gaze, I held out my hand. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked ready to run back inside. Yet, she remained where she was, watching me steadily. Winifred was right, she did smell like wine. That meant she’d drunk more after sending us all outside. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Was the wine to give her temporary courage or was it a sign that she wasn’t able to deal with who we were?
Michelle glanced at my hand, then at her brother.
“Nana will watch you, Liam,” she said, as she placed her hand in mine.
The feel of her skin against mine sent a shiver of need through me. No matter what her reason for drinking, I wanted her to myself for a while. I tugged her hand and led her to the bike. Her pulse raced, a quick cadence easy to hear in the silence of the evening. The beat of my heart increased to echo hers because tonight’s ride would be different. She would hold me.
I released her hand to quickly mount the bike. She used me for balance as she got on behind me. When she tried reaching back to hold the bar, I stopped her.
“No holding the bar this time. Hands around me so I know you’re still with me.”
I started the bike as she nodded and reached forward. The tentative slide of her hands around my waist had me clenching my teeth. I wanted more. More contact. More time. More everything. She scooted forward on the seat so her front almost touched my back and the flat of her hands pressed against my stomach.
Glancing at the porch, I caught Winifred studying me.
Make it work, Emmitt, she sent to me.
I gave a slight nod and slowly pulled out of the garage. Behind me, Michelle waved to her brothers.
Once we reached the end of the driveway, I signaled left and settled in for an easy ride. The feel of her arms wrapped around my waist had me floating. Occasionally, her fingers would move and send a new jolt of awareness through me. My head knew I’d recently dropped a bomb on her and that she needed time to process everything, to accept me. My body didn’t give a damn. Every cell wanted me to roar with my need for a Claim. Her fingers trailed three inches lower, and she exhaled contentedly behind me. My teeth ached as I fought to maintain control of the change.
Then she tapped my stomach and pointed to the left at the old country bar we’d passed when I’d first brought her home. There was no sign with a name, only a neon light advertising “bar” in one of the high windows.
Disappointment filled me as I signaled and started to slow. Our kind had remained hidden so well, I’d known her acceptance of us wouldn’t be easy. But, I hadn’t thought it would turn her into an alcoholic.
I pulled into the parking lot and eased the bike to a stop. In the silence after cutting the engine, I listened to the steady beat of her pulse. It was only slightly higher than normal. Yet, under the layers of exhaust, her fear still tainted the air.
Despite knowing what Michelle wanted, I hesitated to bring her inside. Winifred hadn’t liked her smelling of wine. What would she say if I brought Michelle back smelling of more alcohol?
“I can’t take you in there,” I said, eyeing the familiar old building.
“Yes, you can.” The bike shifted slightly as she dismounted. Standing to the side, she met my gaze as she waited for me to decide.
“Nana will kill me.” Literally. Endangering a potential Mate was a demand for an Elder beating, or worse.
“I think you can take her,” Michelle said with an amused sigh.
“You have no idea,” I muttered as I got off the bike. Pissing off Winifred was never a good idea. No matter what Jim thought.