Page 10 of Understanding Fate

“I never asked you to keep me alive,” I mumble, most of my anger gone after his calm and logical statement.

“Well then, I guess it’s good that I’m doing it for me and not you. I’m a selfish asshole, not a hero. I don’t do anything unless it serves my agenda. Currently, you being alive happens to align with what I need. If that ever changes, trust me, I will let you stumble through your messes all on your own,” he finishes his tone cold for the first time, and it’s at that moment I see the legend that is Ghost and not the man.

Bullshit.

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s reading people. The foster system teaches you to look for signs, minuscule tells that reveal the people who have bad intentions—the ones who are morally corrupt.

Ghost may be capable of some fucked up things, and I believe the few things I’ve heard that he’s done, but inside, he still has a soul.

The picture of his sister told me all I needed to know.

Releasing my fists, I let out a sigh. I need to compose myself because he isn’t going to talk to me right now. He isn’t the type to yell, and his control is honed in. I won’t get any answers this way.

Turning, I grab my suitcase, place it on the bed, and open it to grab what I need before silently walking into the bathroom to shower.

I need to contact Boston Digital, let Liv and Keith know I’m safe, and let Cain know I’m okay. I can’t have him fly across the country to rescue me again. If Ghost wants to play this close to the vest, then he can be my escort this week while I’m here. Maybe I can get him to trust me enough to tell me what the hell is going on and why I seem to be the center of it. Maybe I can get him to tell me the truth.

For now, all I know is that this is starting to feel too much like deja vu, and I’m tired of being a pawn in a game I never asked to play, one that no one gave me the rules for.

He’s right about one thing, though: curiosity does kill the cat; I guess I just need to remember that I’m a wolf.

Chapter 4

Cain

What the fuck did I think about before I met her?

The thought has been bouncing around since she left for Boston last night. Letting her leave for the airport without me felt like a kind of torture worse than I’ve ever encountered.

She deserves to be happy.

We can make her happy.

Fighting my wolf has been a new challenge placed on my control. Patience has never been a strong virtue of mine, and knowing my Mate is flying across the country nearly unprotected leaves my skin itching.

She asked for space.

She’s been reaching out more.

Landed safe in Boston

Thank The Fates for that.

I breathe a sigh of relief, texting her back much faster than is socially acceptable, but my pride went out the window a long time ago when it came to her.

Glad to hear you are safe. I’m here if you need anything.

I wish I were there, but I think I’m making progress in getting her to trust me again, and I don’t want to lose the fragile foundation we’ve begun building.

I finish the report I’m working on when her text comes through.

You’re here? Where? I don’t see anyone.

Anyone? Shouldn’t someone be there waiting?

No one is there to get you? How long have you been waiting?

My wolf reels at the thought of her sitting alone in that airport.

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