Page 14 of Hope in his Darkness
Why isn’t there some kind of shifter book I could just give her explaining things? Maybe I could write one after we get our shit figured out and title it “What to Expect When You're a Shifters’ Mate 101” or some shit like that. My mind ran a mile a minute, thinking of the different chapters in the book, as Hope quirks her eyebrow at me.
“Shit, sorry my mind just went off on a squirrel moment happens sometimes with my kind. I was just thinking it would be nice if there was a book, I could give you to explain all of this stuff. Then I thought about writing one myself later.” She does not look amused; she just looks more confused. Not that I can blame her, I’m not being very clear at all.
“What do you mean “your kind”? What does that even mean? Are you talking about someone who has like ADHD or something?” Well, I was fucking this all up again, maybe me writing a book is a bad idea if I can’t even start to explain things to my own mate. Fuck me!
“Okay, I am fucking this all up, so I am just going to ask you a question. Do you know what a shifter is?” Her mouth drops open, her eyes scrunch up together. She looks ready to bolt, as she eyeballs the doorway as her escape route.
“You promised not to run.” I remind her as she tucks herself further into the couch away from me. Well, this is just going fucking great, yep, I am the fucking king of handling my mate.
“Are you talking like werewolves?” Of course, that was the kind of shifter she would think of; werewolves were all over mainstream television and books. Other shifters on the other hand not so much, which was probably because we keep ourselves hidden as much as we can. Werewolves tend to show themselves to humans a lot more and so more myths and legends were about them.
“They are a type of shifter, yes, but not every shifter is a werewolf no. There are all kinds of shifters in the world.” She leans forward, placing her elbows on her knees as she scrutinizes me like I was a bug behind glass.
“You’re mental. Why didn’t you just tell me you were mental? What, were you a soldier and have PTSD or Traumatic Brain Injury? Do you have flashbacks or just fantasies?” How am I fucking this up even more? Seriously, first, she thought I had ADHD and now she thinks I have PTSD. If there is an award for fucking shit up, I am definitely in the running at the moment.
“What he means is he’s a shifter, you’re his fated mate, and he’s sorry for being a jackass earlier. He thought he was still in love with Georgia, but he’s since figured out he isn’t. How’s that, bro?” I hadn’t heard Cole come down the stairs, which meant he’d been quiet on purpose.
How much had he heard before he came waltzing in simplifying everything? I glare at him as he saunters into the living room with nothing but low-hanging grey sweatpants on. His muscled chest is on full display and Hope is taking it all in with appreciation. A growl bubbles up from inside me as Cole flops on the couch next to Hope, giving me a shit-eating grin.
“Do what the fuck now?” Hope says with her eyes about to bug out of their sockets, looking between me and Cole like we are crazy. Well, at least I’m not the only one she thinks has mental health issues now. Meanwhile, Cole flings his arms along the back of the couch behind Hope while giving me a smug smile. I don’t know what his deal is about mates but after I figure my shit out with Hope I will get to the bottom of his issues.
Chapter Ten
Hope
“Iswear you two couldfuck up a wet dream. Pardon my language, Hope, but my sons are about as smooth as lumpy oatmeal trying to explain things to you.” I turn at Clay’s voice as he walks into the living room, rubbing his eyes like he just woke up. If I wasn’t so completely confused right now, I might feel guilty for waking him up.
“Hey, I was doing just fine till Cole had to come down here and get in the middle of it.” Clay sighs, shaking his head as he makes his way into the kitchen.
“Sure, you were. Come on, Hope. We can’t have this conversation without some food in our bellies.” I look at Cole first, who earns a growl from Brody. Cole just shrugs his shoulders, flips off Brody, and stalks out the back door without a backward glance. When I look over at Brody, he looks nervous, which only makes me more curious as to what the actual fuck is going on.
Getting up I walk slowly back into the kitchen area. There’s a part of me that thinks they are all insane and maybe I should hightail it out of there as fast as my legs can carry me. Then there is the curious part of me that says there is something more going on than meets the eye. Sitting down at the table I watch Clay start to pull things out of the refrigerator to make breakfast. My own father has never set foot in the kitchen, so I’m mesmerized watching him work in the kitchen with such ease. It’s clear this is something he does regularly, and I envy Cole and Brody a little bit for it.
“Now let me begin by saying what I am about to tell you is only told to those closest to us. It is a secret to be held onto tightly because it could mean our deaths if the wrong people find out. I need your promise that what I am about to tell you stays in these four walls.” Clay stops peeling potatoes to give me a long hard look, there is a touch of apprehension in his eyes, and I know he’s serious.
“I promise, whatever you tell me will stay here unless it could harm others. That’s the best I can do. If you tell me, you are part of some cult who hurts people for sport, for example, that shit is not staying within these four walls.” Clay barely contains a laugh while I can hear Brody’s deep laughter coming from the other room.
