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I pull out tomatoes and eggs, along with a couple of onions. I’m in the mood for a frittata, so that’s what I’m going to make. I grab my cutting board and start chopping away, trying not to think about how much time I spent in this kitchen with her.
Reflecting on the past can be a beautiful thing, but it can also be dangerous, isolating. I have too many shifters – hell, and humans – to worry about right now. I can’t afford to be distracted by thinking about the past and how much I miss my wife.
How much I miss everything about her.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps
One.
Then two.
Then another.
Reece moves down the hall carefully, deliberately. I focus on making the frittata while he comes down the hall toward the kitchen. I imagine he’s stopping to explore his surroundings a little bit. He’s probably looking at the windows, at the décor. Maybe he’s wondering why I live here alone. That’s not something I’m ready to talk about.
I might not have a family anymore, but I certainly don’t plan on leaving our home anytime soon.
Not the home I shared with her.
With them.
Suddenly, he’s in the doorway, and he sets his bag down beside the kitchen entrance.
“You made it,” I say without looking up. Again, I don’t want to spook him or surprise him. I’m nervous now. I’m worried that if I say the wrong thing, it’s going to destroy any chance the therapist has of getting Reece to open up, and we desperately need him to open up.
We need him to be able to speak about his experiences when he was a captive. If he’s still being affected this badly, there might be more to his abduction than we know about. Maybe they did more than just medical experiments on him. Even if they didn’t, Reece might have heard more than he’s letting on. He might know more than he even realizes.
When you’re in a crisis situation, a lot of things happen that you don’t process completely or entirely until someone encourages you to. He might have heard planning, or names, or dates, or even places. He might have heard a million different things. If we can break through and get him talking, we might have a chance at figuring out what their next move is.
I know Lee and his team are working on something. They’ve got some leads they’re supposed to tell me about later today. I don’t know what they’ve found, but hopefully it’ll lead us somewhere.
The last few months have been hell as we’ve tried to keep the clan safe and try to figure out what Lucky’s next move is. They always seem to be one step ahead of us and despite our best efforts, dragons still disappear regularly. I don’t let my clan members leave now unless they go out with at least one other shifter. If they need to go out into the woods, they can do it with another dragon, with a wolf, or even with a bear. I don’t care, but they can’t be alone.
It’s too easy to be abducted when you’re alone.
“Welcome,” I say to Reece.
“Thanks,” he says.
“Hungry?”
“Nope,” but his stomach growls and gives him away. He sighs. “All right,” he concedes. “Maybe a little.”
“Frittatas sound okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Plates are up there,” I point to a cupboard with my spatula, then turn back around to keep cooking, allowing him to help me out. I’m not going to treat Reece like a victim. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that being treated like a weakling is the worst thing you can do to someone when they’re struggling. Reece needs to know he can be treated normally.
Maybe I haven’t done a very good job of that.
“What do you like as toppings?” I ask him.
Reece doesn’t respond right away, and I look over at him. He’s just standing there, holding two plates.
And he’s crying quietly.
