“Is it me? Did I cause this?” he asks, his eyes growing wider with alarm. Large hands grip either side of the doorjamb.
I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes.
Don’t do it, Goldie. Don’t give him your tears. Red warned you that it could give him power over you. Harshly blinking them back, I turn around and pad into the kitchen, needing something to do to keep the waterworks from switching on. I put the kettle on the stove for tea, though I don’t even want any.
The sound of the door creaking and closing comes before Ted fills up my kitchen with his presence. My insides are askew. I have no opinions on his presence or lack of it.
“You’re scaring me, Goldie,” he says.
All I manage to push past my lips is a couple words and even that takes great effort. “It’s just a bad day.”
The next thing I know I’m enfolded in a pair of big muscular arms. My eyes shut as I’m smushed against the plaid shirt that smells like fresh pine. Ted doesn’t let go. He doesn’t ask me what’s wrong again. He simply holds me, keeping me together when I’m sure I’d otherwise fly apart like gray ash.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he says into the top of my head. “But I’m here and everything’s going to be okay.”
How? How does this feel so good? It’s just touch. People can survive without it, but warmth and feelings of safety flood my system as we stand there, him holding me. When the tea kettle starts to whistle, he shuffles our feet so I’m standing on his and he walks the few steps to pull the pot off the burner.
Then that arm surrounds me, and he continues to hold me and whisper how everything is going to be okay and that he knows things are hard right now but I’ll get through it. This won’t last forever.
Likely things he’s told himself in the past when he thought his bones would buckle under all that responsibility.
It’s a bunch of nonsense, and yet, his words of comfort and the safety of his arms help raise my meter of well-being, bit by little bit.
“What do you need?” he asks after a while.
Nothing. Everything.
I don’t know.
This all filters through my mind before I say, “I miss my mom.” And I do. No matter what happens, having someone who loves you so unconditionally that you can say anything to, lessens burdens tremendously.
I miss my dad and my brother too, but it’s my mom I’m closest to and she can’t be here. And I don’t have the strength to go to her. I probably don’t have the money either.
“Do you want to call her?” he offers quietly.
Still unable to conjure words, I shake my head no. I can’t bring myself to voice what’s drowning me. I just know I crave her comfort. I burrow further into Ted’s embrace and drink in what he is giving me.
Solid ground to land on. Even though I don’t deserve it.
Shouting draws our attention. I follow Ted out to the front door to the porch where we find Eli and JJ wild eyed. “They’re coming,” Eli yells.
“Three of them,” JJ supplies.
“Three of what?” Ted asks, his arm curled protectively around me.
Three black SUVs careen in on the dirt road, and even my numb, depressed brain registers a flicker of fear. The men who want to collect on Eli’s debts have returned, and the fight has been brought to my doorstep, again.
Chapter38
Pack Attack
TED
Tires spit gravel as the three SUVs roar in. In a heartbeat, I scoop Goldie into my arms and race into her house.
"Stay here no matter what," I yell, my voice urgent. “Use those crystals to lock yourself in.”
Outside, the sounds of bones cracking and muscles stretching echo through the night—the grotesque melody of my brothers’ transformation.
