Page 37 of Apex of the Curve

Chapter Ten

Fenris…

I shot a text to my dad that I was going to have company for a few nights and got to work tossing the trash bags of what felt like clothes that were meant for Goodwill into the back of his truck up near the cab. The trash I kept in the middle of the bed and toward the tailgate? The burn pile. I wanted to offload that shit first and spirit it away in the corner of the barn until I was ready for it. My pagan ass had a multitude of reasons for wanting to burn some of it.

Mostly to purify Aspen of some of the negativity that was hanging around her like a pall in the air. Sometimes it was so thick, it was no wonder she was drowning in her own tears.

She needed a breath of fresh air, to shake some of it off, and I aimed to get her back on track… or hell, maybe on a new set of tracks altogether.

Whatever was best for her, and I meant that. She was a beautiful soul, inside and out. I could see it in her green eyes plain as day. She was so pure it almost burned to look at her.

Do enough evil shit like I had, you knew pure goodness when you saw it and Aspen was pure goodness, desperate to heal. I was just as desperate to see her heal. Some of that echoes from Lacy, but I sure didn’t look at Aspen like she was my sister. No, she smelled too good, felt too good tucked into my arms.

Now was definitely not the time to make any moves, though.

I found her keys, forlorn up against her briefcase on the couch, and used them to unlock her car so I could stow her purse and work stuff in the back. When I went back into the house, I cleaned up from our dinner and took out the kitchen trash so it wouldn’t stink since she would be gone.

I went to the door of her room and watched her pack for a moment. She looked lost – in thought, in her feelings, directionless and tired, the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“How you doing in here?” I asked, and she jumped, letting out a cry and pressing a hand to her chest.

“Shit, sorry.” I couldn’t help the chuckle.

“It’s alright, just make some noise or something? For as big as you are, you’re so dang quiet!”

“Practice makes perfect,” I said with a shrug. Doesn’t help to let whatever your quarry might be know that you’re coming. It kind of negates the whole point of hunting. She didn’t need to know all of that, though.

“I, uh, I don’t know about this. I have to work and—”

“You’ll get to work on time, I promise,” I said. “You need the break, babe.”

“I do,” she confessed, and she looked so damned sad. I wondered what it was going to take to see this woman smile again, and I mean really smile. I had to give that some serious thought.

“Nothing wrong with taking help when it’s offered,” I said gently.

“What?” She jumped slightly and turned her gaze up and over to me from where she ran a top or something between her hands over an open, leather duffel bag. “Oh, no, it’s not that.” She bowed her head and shook it.

“What is it, then?”

“I don’t know, I’m just tired, I guess. Not thinking straight.”

“Okay, what else do you need?” I asked.

“Um, shampoo and conditioner, soap and the like from the bathroom.”

“Cool, I got it.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay! I can—”

“Too late,” I said and went into the bathroom. There was a lot of shit in there. I called back out, “Which stuff is yours? Just tell me.”

She did, and I threw it all together in the sink so I could put it in the grocery bag I saw out front.

It was ramshackle and rude as hell treating her shit that way, but I wanted to get her someplace organized where she had a hope of finding some time away from the memories, to build some scar tissue up over her grief and recent emotional wounds.

Her hurt was palpable, throbbing, throwing off heat that I could almost feel from the next room as I grabbed a bag for her toiletries. I loaded them up and turned as she zipped her bag closed and turned to look at me.

“I don’t know about this,” she murmured.

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