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Oh, he was very good. Fantastic in fact. I’d really believed him, though.
I was so stupid. This was just Ingrid all over again. Revealing far more of myself to someone than I ever should have. How many times since Ingrid had I been glad that Dad taught me I could survive without a pack? I should have remained feeling that way. I didn’t need anyone else.
Especially not someone like Patrick. Someone who got inside my head and made himself at home there.
I got up. That was enough of lying around feeling sorry for myself.
I needed to do something active. Something to change my situation.
I grabbed my purse and walked to my window. I drew the curtains and switched on the lamp in the corner. Then I checked I’d locked all the doors and windows.
Finally, I sat on my sofa and drew a deep breath. I held my phone in my hand and scrolled through my recently dialed numbers. There it was. The shortest call I’d made. The time I hung up on Patrick. I wasn’t going to hang up this time, though.
We had things to discuss. Or things I needed to say. I didn’t really need to listen to him.
“Patrick Crenshawe, leave a message.”
It didn’t even ring. He’d turned it off. My chest hollowed. It was just something else that pointed to his guilt.
“Just a quick call to thank you.” My voice was steely, fueled by my anger. “So thank you for all of the orgasms. And thank you even more for the men you sent to attack me and scare me into taking your offer before I’d even had chance to audit the company myself like I’d planned. Like you promised me I could.” There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of listening to me talk for a long time, or lose myself and get upset while I spoke. “I thought you were a decent man. If not, at least a good businessman. And you know, you don’t have to be nice. But at least keep your fucking word.” I paused to rein in my temper again and I brushed sudden tears from my eyes. This call felt like a break-up, which was ridiculous. “And don’t worry. Don’t waste your time waiting for the results of my audit because I will never sell to you now. I’d never sell to anyone who uses physically violent intimidation tactics. So now I only need one more thing from you.” I sucked in a breath. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”
Then I pressed the disconnect button as hard as I could, wishing for the satisfaction of being able to throw a receiver back into a cradle.
The violence of hanging up on someone was gone. But hopefully he’d gotten the message all the same.
12
PATRICK
Iwoke up stiff and sore, lying on the floor next to Dad’s bed. Shit, I didn’t remember going to sleep here. I rubbed my hand over my head, raking my hands through my hair and scratching my fingernails against my scalp as I blinked my eyes and tried to wake up faster.
At least it was a change from hearing Jackson’s laps around my pool, so maybe I had little things to be grateful for, even though I didn’t need the reminder that my joints were growing older.
Everything was still bleary and a little out of focus. Damn, what had even happened?
I’d fallen asleep in the chair next to my dad before waking up, wracked with guilt that Dad was still sitting in his chair next to me. I didn’t want him to sleep there, and I helped him into his bed, carrying his stiff-limbed, folded form to the state-of-the-art, hospital grade mattress.
It was really the least I could do for him, provide for his comfort.
I’d placed him in his bed, and I’d brushed my hand over his hair, guilt and affection warring in my chest. He was in there somehow and I didn’t know how to reach him. He barely responded to me these days.
My wolf keened inside me, his sorrow clear.
Without really thinking about it, I tugged on him. If I couldn’t reach Dad, maybe he could. I rarely gave up my control, but I relaxed into the shift, letting it take me as my form changed.
Then I stood alongside the bed and nudged Dad gently with my nose, moving him and creating a space for myself. When I finally hopped up next to him, I still hung off the side just a little bit, but I’d try anything to find my dad again.
I waited, holding my breath, even my fur seeming to prickle with the anxiety of the moment. What did I expect? Would he shift as well? Would he suddenly talk to me and reveal everything in his head, his thoughts and fears and reasons why he hadn’t been able to return to us sooner from his depression?
But he barely moved and I huffed a sigh as I crawled closer to him, closing any gaps between us and just barely resting my head on his chest. I didn’t give him my full weight, but he’d know I was there.
He gave no indication of that, though, and we just lay together as my hope for a connection faded.
His breathing had started to even out and his heart beat regular and fast before he lifted a hand and gave me a slow rub between my ears.
My heart soared for a moment, but I didn’t dare move in case I startled him and he stopped. And when he’d fallen asleep, his fingers still buried in my fur, I’d eased my way off the bed to give him his space and spent the night alongside him on the floor.
Not my most comfortable of nights.
