Elaine is a beta, who’s sweet, and smart, and I stopped to help her change a flat just outside of town when I first started working as a police officer. She was trying to work up the courage to get the jack under her car when I saw her. My parents drilled into Josh and me about the serve and protect part of being an officer, so it seemed natural to pull over and help the lady who was having car trouble.
Isee the car pulled over on the side of the road, and I’m glad it’s still there when I manage to make it back. There aren’t a lot of good places to turn around on this road, and I’d hate to have to call for a tow truck if I get my cruiser stuck so soon after getting hired. It would embarrass both my parents, and since they’re the whole reason I joined the force in the first place, I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.
It’s hard to make out a lot of the interior with the sun so bright today, but it doesn’t appear as if there’s anybody else in the front seat with the woman who’s driving. The closer I get to the car, the stronger the pull becomes. The woman looks near frantic at my approach, and between that and the pressure in my chest, the need to help is overwhelming. I’d want to help, regardless. That’s the other reason I joined up. I enjoy being useful and assisting people who need it.
My knuckles tap lightly on the glass as big, blue eyes meet mine. I don’t blame her for not rolling it down earlier. It’s too damned hot in August to sit here without the AC on. And the sight of two car seats in the back makes it doubly so. The problem was obvious as I pulled up—a flat tire on the rear passenger side that I didn’t see when I first drove by, but it’s not like I can help without talking to this lady first.
Her scent hits me as soon as she starts cranking down the window, and isn’t that a kick in the teeth. I meet my scent match and her two kids broken down on the side of the highway in a beat-to-shit Ford Escort with a flat tire. I can feel the obsession burning in my chest as she stares up at me, and I’m dumbstruck enough that she could pull my own gun out and shoot me dead and I would probably just smile at her. There’s no help for it though.
The longer I stare, the more uncomfortable she becomes, glancing back to check on her kids while trying to keep looking at meandavoid eye contact. She looks to be a couple years older than me, but that don’t mean anything; she’s still beautiful with long blonde hair, and eyes the color of the clear summer sky above. If it weren’t for the strain in those eyes, I’d be tempted to fall down on my knees and compose a sonnet to her angelic beauty right now—instead, I need to figure out how to fix whatever’s upsettin’ her.
“Hello, officer…um…Can I help you?” Her voice shakes despite her attempts, and I take a quick glance at the kids in the backseat again before turning my attention back to her. She has her hands up on the wheel and my chest tightens painfully when I notice a wedding band on her finger. Now isn’t the time anyway; I need to help her out. It’s no good for her and these little ones to be stuck on the side of the road, especially in this heat.
“Well, ma’am. I was wonderin’ if I could help you out. You seem to have a flat tire. Did you need me to radio for a tow truck?” Her face scrunches tighter.
“Um…no, no I…That’s alright. I…I’m trying to work myself up to get out and change it. I was hoping I could get in touch with my husband and have him help me, since I’m supposed to be resting from that one.” She nods towards the back, a rear-facing car seat. She holds up her cell phone, looking extra frustrated. “But no luck so far. His supervisor doesn’t always pass messages along in a timely manner…or he could be having trouble finding a ride…” Her voice trails off.
“No, ma’am. Don’t you worry. If you can pop the trunk, I’ll get this done and have you on your way quick as can be.” She smiles at me hopefully. I’m just an officer doing his best to serve and protect, not like the reality of primal satisfaction that fills me at actually being able to do something for my mate. It just takes me a moment to pull out her jack and get the lug nuts loosened up and the car raised. The littles in the backseat start fussing, and she coos softly at them before getting out and coming around to talk to me while I work.
She vents about the tire, and the frozen groceries she’s worried about melting in the trunk, all while thanking me again for my help. Then she talks about her husband. They were high-school sweethearts, like Josh and Billy.
The smaller of the two kids starts crying harder, and she tries singing for a few moments before throwing me an apologetic look and mumbling something about it being hungry. It took me longer than it should have to understand what was wrong until she unstraps the little guy and sits in the passenger seat, adjusting her top. I know she said she was recovering, but I didn’t realize it was from giving birth, or that the kid was still young enough to be breastfeeding. I knew it was tiny and androgynous…but what do I know about kids? Apparently,she’s only a few weeks post-partum, and shouldn’t have been attempting to change the tire regardless.
She’s finishing up and burping him when I finally get done with the tire. This wasn’t something I could drag out; tires aren’t that hard to change, and I delayed for as long as possible considering she has a toddler and an infant in the car. Hardly anybody travels this road during the day, but it’ll be getting busy as soon as the glass factory lets out from first shift. It’s not safe to be stuck on the side of the road.
Her smile is bright as she thanks me again for all my help, but I’m fuming that her husband—the apparent love of her life—wasn’t here to help her. She pats me on the chest when I start grumbling about it. Apparently, she was on her way to pick him up when the tire happened. Thankfully, that means she hadn’t been here very long when I arrived. Still, I give her my cell number and ask her to call me, for anything, before sending her on her way.
It’s not like I can proposition her on the side of the highway. I’m sure it would scare the bejesus out of her, plus, how do you go about asking some random married couple to pack up with you? I’ll need to talk to my parents about this, because I’m already lost to this woman in the twenty minutes I’ve known her.
Mom, of course, is excited for me. She’s also frustrated that I didn’t take the initiative, lamenting the fact that I let two perfectly good grandbabies go before she had the chance to meet them. My dad is more practical about the situation, trying to coach me on how to approach this without getting arrested for stalking. Thankfully, they look the other way when I do a follow up to make sure that there haven’t been any domestic violence or police reports filed against them. She may have told me she was happily married, but she’s mine, and even if I can’t have her, I need to make sure she’s safe.
If I happen to “accidentally” run into her around town from time to time, so be it.
I meet her husband a few weeks later at the diner, and she introduces me as the sweet officer who helped with her tire. He thanks me kindly for looking after his family and acts nothing but polite. Which makes me feel like an ass for mooning after his wife.
Then I see them one day at the grocery store, all shopping together. There’s no real way to ingratiate myself into their relationship without being obvious. I’ve got no connection to them other than knowing she’s my match.
Months’ worth of pining finally bring me to a decision. There’s no way around it if I want a future with her, and by extension, them. I show up at their home on a Saturday afternoon and confess my feeling to both of them, admitting that I believe she’s my scent match. Her husband is tense, but she’s polite about it. She says she appreciates how kind and thoughtful I am, and while she finds me attractive—much to his irritation—she loves him and the family they have together. She isn’t interested in me other than as a friend. I’m more than welcome in their home at any time, but I’ll never be more than that.
In retrospect, it could have gone so much worse, but I’m crushed, defeated, my heart ripped out of my chest and laid bare upon the ground. So I do the only thing I can…I go home and sob like a little bitch. I’ve found my scent match, something so rare that it’s almost a myth, and she rejects me. Josh and Spence find me that evening. They come over to watch TV at my place sometimes since Dad has football games on Saturday evenings that he likes to watch.
Josh rails against the rejection on my behalf, but I know I can never do anything that might upset her, and my continued presence would just frustrate her husband. I don’t hate the maneven though I want to. She loves him and he makes her smile. But being happy for her and the life they have doesn’t negate being sad for myself.
Josh and Spence stay the night, making sure I eat and calling in sick for me when I’m lost in my own mind. Nothing matters now; not food, not water, and certainly not work. When Josh finally leaves on Monday for school, Spence stays to make sure I’m ok—and the next day, and the day after that. His parents finally show up, and while none of them understand losing a fated mate, they know I’m in pain, and are here for me. Even his younger sister, who’s just out of middle school, takes a turn just sitting with me so I won’t be alone.
My own parents try to stop by at some point, but they just want to push me to try again. While I appreciate their encouragement, they don’t understand. She and her husband are betas and they don’t believe that we belong together…I can’t risk losing them entirely by ranting that the universe has ordained that we need each other.
It doesn’t matter anyway, she’s gone. They all are. They had moved to the area so her husband could work at the glass factory, but once that went out of business, not too long after the original owners died, well…there was no real reason to stay around.
Last I heard, they had moved back west to be near his family, with the usual promises to stay in touch since we were friends.But we were never really friends, and I haven’t heard from them in almost five years.
Not that I couldn’t look them up if I tried. I have enough resources—when I’m not sort of suspended—that it wouldn’t be a problem to find them if I was so inclined, but I’ve figured out that a clean break is better. No more driving past their house at all hours, or “randomly” running into them around town. I’m pretty sure her husband knew…before they moved. There was no way that they saw me around that often by chance.
I love my parents, dearly. But they still think I made the wrong decision by not pressing the matter—and sometimes I wonder if they’re right. After all, I’m still alone, and the idea of anyone other than her feels like a fist twisting around my guts.
And that’s part of why we work. Alistair has his head shoved too far up his own ass to ever find love; the man sabotages himself at every turn in an attempt to keep his heart safe. He doesn’t think we realize it, and with Spence, I’d have to agree. But I see how he is. Spence just wants someone to love and care for. I won’t say it doesn’t matter, because I saw how he was with Kelly. But he needs someone sweet that won’t take advantage of him, someone that can put up with Al’s self-destructive bullshit, and someone who will leave me the hell alone because I’m more than happy to be cordial, but I don’t want anybody else.
Chapter 31
