Page 70 of Out of My Flocking Mind

“Pretty sure I have.”

“No, you haven’t. You say it isn’t right, you tell me we aren’t mates, but you have never told me that you don’t want to be my mate. That’s different.”

“Pretty tricky line you’re trying to walk. I feel like lots of people have said that right before they find themselves with a stalking charge.”

“I’m serious. If you honestly told me you didn’t want me, I’d give it up. You never have, though. You always come back here, no matter what happens, so I know you’re not entirely against the idea. You might have reasons that you don’t think it’ll work, that you’re afraid, but that’s not the same as rejection.”

“And just how long do you plan to wait around hoping I see the light?”

Galen shrugged, then pushed his glasses back up his nose. “As long as it takes, I guess. I’ve been here since you became a Spirit. My life is long, and I’m fine with spending it waiting for you.”

“Sounds like a cuckhold thing,” I muttered.

“Maybe, or maybe you’re just worth waiting for. You don’t realize how amazing you are, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

I gave him one hell of a side-eye. “If you think being all romantic is going to get you anything, you really don’t know me.”

“What, are you trying to tell me your heart doesn’t beat a little faster when I say things like that?”

I could only pray he couldn’t actually hear my heart or he’d know just how right he was. It was harder to lie when the truth was right there in the person’s face. Still, I’d give it a try. “Please. That works on teenage girls and middle-aged virgins who read romance novels. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“You say that because you don’t want to be that kind of girl,” Galen said. “You don’t want to ask for things you don’t think you’ll get, so you tell yourself you don’t need any of it. That’s different from saying you really don’t want it. So, we’ll see, but I plan to do whatever I think I need to.”

“What is this, a warning? Are we adversaries now? Thanks, but I have enough enemies.”

“Enemies to lovers is a thing, isn’t it?” He smiled, the expression bothersome. He almost looked like some eager kid ready to take on some big challenge. “But, that’s not a problem for today. Like I said, I’ve waited years—I’ll wait longer. For now, why don’t you take a shower, borrow some clothes from the guest room, then we’ll eat.”

Was that one of the things that Galen did that won me over? Instead of pushing, he just remained steady, unwilling to get scared off or dissuaded by repeated failures. If he’d chased, I’d have run, but instead he just waited. It made me think of how a person tamed a fearful dog, by just sitting there near them until they got used to it.

So I got up, off the couch, then thanked Galen for the suggestion.

I doubted that a shower—no matter how hot—was going to wash off the things that bothered me. My problems were far too messy to be washed off with a bit of water.

* * * *

After a shower, a change of clothing and the food Galen had left on the counter for me, I found myself sitting on Galen’s porch. He’d stepped into his office to deal with pack problems, which gave me a moment to myself. Every now and then, I’d hear roars from the basement. Once, the entire house shook, but Galen had assured me that even Trey couldn’t break out of those cells. They could hold anything—including a rabid Werebear.

Not that it helped my conscience at all. Him escaping wasn’t my bigger problem—it was helping him.

However, I saw no path to that. Instead, I had items that Trey owned spread out before me. Given that he wasn’t expected to return to his old him, the family that had fostered him had sent his personal belongings to Galen’s. They’d done so so quickly, it further showed how little they gave a damn about him.

An entire life, broken down to this…

It was weird to see it all, to know that if Trey didn’t get better, this was all that would be left of him. Would that be the case with me, too? When I went—which I knew could happen at any time—what would still be here for those left behind?

A house full of shiny baubles and things I’d stolen? A pretty fantastic sex toy collection? A lot of stories many people wouldn’t quite believe? It was almost terrifying how little really remained at the end of one’s life.

And fuck did I hate thinking that as I looked over the items from Trey. There were yearbooks, sketchbooks full of scantily clad girls—he was a pretty good artist—and random electronics. It all fit into a large box, telling me he didn’t have a lot of clothes, either. Then again, he struck me as the type who never really settled in anywhere. He might have been nineteen, but he’d still lived the life of a kid who had both grown up too fast and not at all.

I picked up a backpack, opening the pockets. He hadn’t had it with him during the attack, but I had no idea why he would have left it behind at his house. We weren’t even entirely sure when he’d gotten attacked. It seemed he had left his house in the middle of the night, then was found on the side of a road. What happened between those two points only Trey and his attacker could answer.

I had no idea what I was looking for, as though some answer might come to me just by riffling through his belongings. Or maybe it was just my attempt to feel like I was doing something.

Or, fuck, maybe I was just torturing myself over this all.

In one pocket of the bag, I found a few baggies full of Cloud, both ones from Ryder and myself. The crystals had turned brown, telling me they’d passed the time they’d be good. I set them aside to dispose of later. Below that, I found a sweater and a pair of leather gloves—never a good sign when dealing with a delinquent. At the bottom of the bag, my fingers wrapped around something hard. I pulled it out, frowning at the burner phone.

I recalled back when these brick-like prepaid phones were all a teenager could get, but now they worked to keep a person’s identity a secret. In fact, they were almost exclusively used by people up to no good.

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