Page 21 of The Alpha's Second Chance Mate

“I won’t get the chance to slug her ass, though. You’ll probably beat me to it.”

“I’m not a typically violent person,” I said. “You know that.”

“But?”

“But, I may be itching to give her what’s coming to her.”

“What do you think Ashton is going to decide? I mean, I want you guys here. I’ve missed you, but do you think he’ll wantto stay?”

“No clue.” I sighed. “My gut says he will. He’s desperate for the pack connection I couldn’t give him, and this is his best chance. The problem is I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle being around Cole again. I can tell he’s telling me the truth about not knowing about Ashton, but it’s hard to shove fifteen years of bitter anger out the window.”

“Right. Well, whatever he decides, I’m with you. Say the word, and I’ll punch Cole in that pretty-boy face of his.”

“I may take you up on that if things go sideways. I’m sort of scared, Stormy. I’m terrified of staying, but I’m also freaked out about leaving. I have nowhere else to go. I can’tgo back to Perry, not after what he did. This is the only home I have now, unless Ashton and I turn into aimless wanderers.”

“It’ll work out. I have complete faith in that. Now, go to bed, girl. You obviously need sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll probably see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I tucked the phone back into my robe pocket. Against my better judgment, and risking life and limb, I began to pump back andforth on the swing, rising higher and higher. The wood creaked, and the chains squealed faintly, but it held fast. I didn’t go as high as I had as a girl, only enough to sway back and forth about three feet in the air.

I did my best not to look into the woods. Cole was there, I was positive about that. That ancient and almost-forgotten sensation I hadn’t felt since I was twenty told me that Cole was close and watching me.

He used to come around and wait at the edges of the forest until my grandmother went to sleep. I’d sneak out, and we’d run off into the woods together, using the darkness to hide what we did. I could still remember the feel of his arms around me, the heat that leached from his body into mine.

The memory was painful. The only person I’d ever loved as much as Cole was Ashton. The years we were together had been some of the happiest in my life. When he confided in me that I was his fated mate, it had been like a dream come true. I’d thought we’d be together forever. But happy endings were only found in romance novels and fairy tales. First, it had been his father’s infidelity, then his mother died. After that, Lance Garrett became more and more unbearable. All of it had built and built, until I woke up to a two-word text one morning.

Cole:I’m sorry.

From that moment on, I’d been on my own. I’d never, in a million years, thought I’d be living my life without Cole by my side.

A lump formed in my throat as I let the swing slow. Tears threatened to spill, the back of my eyes burning like mad, butI’d sworn never to shed another tear for Cole Garrett, and I’d be damned if I started now while he was watching me.

Once the swing came to a stop, I stood and turned back to the house. I walked across the yard and up onto the patio, never once turning back to acknowledge Cole’s presence. I hoped he knew how badly he’d hurt me all those years ago. Regardless of whether or not it was based on a lie, heartbreak was heartbreak. The deadbolt on the patio door gave a finalsnapas I locked it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the final door being closed between us.

Sleep came in fits and starts. All through the night, I kept waking up from nightmares. Some were about Cole stealing my son from me, others were about me reliving the soul-crushing heartache of when he first left. The worst one, the final nail in the coffin of my chances at sleep, was of Cole’s father, dead and rotting like some movie zombie, crawling from his grave. He scratched and clawed with bony fingers, trying to drag Ashton from my arms and down into the grave with him.

After that, there was no way I’d get more sleep. Rather than lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, I got up to make breakfast. The sun had only started to rise, painting the horizon a pale yellow. Ashton wasn’t up yet, so I started making pancakes, eggs, and bacon. My mind zoned out as I mixed the batter and peeled the strips of bacon apart. It was a blessedly mindless half hour when I didn’t have to think about what was to come.

The bacon was nearly ready, and I was flipping the pancakes on the skillet when I heard Ashton’s door open. My stomach did a little flip at the sound. Swallowing hard and schooling my face into a calm mask, I looked up and smiled as he shuffled sleepily down the hall.

“Good morning. Sleep okay?”

He shrugged and took a seat. In his T-shirt and pajama bottoms, he looked much more like a child than a teenager who had to make a huge, life-altering decision.

“How do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled is good,” he said.

Anxiety built inside me like a live wire spitting sparks as I scrambled the eggs. I had to wait for him to tell me in his own time. I hated when someone rushed me on any decisions, so I couldn’t push him.

I set our plates down and sat beside him to eat, though my hunger was minimal as I awaited his decision.

“No syrup?” Ashton asked, looking around.

“Crap,” I cursed. “It’s in the pantry.”

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