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Callum leaned his hips against the counter and stared at his aunt as she chopped onions.
Ignoring his gaze, she finished chopping and used the knife blade to scoop the vegetable up. With the other hand, she brushed them into a bowl full of ground beef.
He was expected at his aunt’s house around noon for lunch, but wanting to speak with her privately, he showed up early.
That morning, he’d pretended to be sleeping when Elliot got up for work, and since then, he’d been avoiding all communication with his cousin.
What the hell could he say to Elliot?
Oh, by the way, Thatcher is boning your mom, thought you might want to know.
“Stop staring at me.” Aunt Charlotte didn’t raise her gaze, but instead turned to her spice rack.
“How could you?”
She slammed a glass container of oregano against the counter. When she looked at him, hatred shone so brightly in her eyes. He wondered who exactly she was angry with.
“You don’t understand.” She pointed a finger at him. “You need to keep your mouth shut about it.”
Arms crossed, Callum glared back. “Does Elliot know?”
Twisting the lid on the spice, she dumped some into the bowl. “No.”
“Sydney?”
She shook her head as she put the spice back. “Don’t say anything to them. Or anyone.”
“Why Thatcher? I don’t understand.”
This time, when she looked at him, tears danced in her eyes. Her gaze was red-rimmed. Glancing away, she sniffed, but refused to let the tears fall. “When Sydney turned sixteen, Thatcher noticed.”
Callum fumed.
“I did what I could to protect her—and Elliot.” She put her hands into the meat and mixed the spices, onions, and beef. “If I do what he wants, he leaves my kids alone.”
“But–”
“No!” His aunt turned on him. “You don’t get to sit there and judge me. You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. This is about my kids’ safety. I would do anything for them.
Clearly. “Does Elliot know his promotions have come because you’re sleeping with Thatcher?”
Ignoring him once more, she rounded the meat into patties for the grill and set them on a plate. After she’d washed the raw meat from her hands and cleaned the bowl, Callum asked, “Why wouldn’t you just come and live with us? Mom asked you to come. In fact, she begged you. You, Elliot, Syd… You all would have been safe. How could you be so selfish?”
This time, when she turned to him, he flinched. Her gaze was so full of anguish and frustration that he was surprised she didn’t slap him.
“Elliot told me about Vivian.” She took a breath. “She’s your mate. So you will understand this now. If Vivian disappeared, would you leave here? Would you go back home, or would you stay and wait, and hope and pray that one day she’d come home?”
Sheepishly, Callum glanced away.
“Yeah, he’s probably dead. And I’m a stupid, foolish woman for staying, but I couldn’t leave. It’s the one thing—the one thing—that I couldn’t do. I couldn’t leave him.”
Now the tears fell and Callum felt like an ass.
“He’s never going to come back,” she pressed the tea towel to her cheek and wiped away a tear, “but I still have hope.”
Awkwardly, Callum raised his gaze and saw her—not his aunt—but the woman who had lost her mate, who had no answers, and who had done everything she could to protect her children from a monster.
“I’m sorry.”
