Page 50 of Bred Mate
“Baby,” Karl says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You did more than enough. You did everything. And now it’s time to let others do something too. It’s not an insult for someone else to help. When you have the baby, you’ll need help then too, and you’re going to take it.”
I don’t know what to say to that. He’s being so nice, but he’s also making me feel bad by pointing out some of the ways I’m being less than perfect. I never knew I was so sensitive about the boys. When we lived in the woods, things like this never came up.
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he says, tipping my head up so I have to look at him.
“You’re going to go clean up, you’re going to pick something clean to wear out of the wardrobe I got for you, and…”
“What happened to you? What happened to the man who stood in the middle of pitched battle like he didn’t care about it at all? What happened to the guy who rescued me from the water when I almost drowned? Or who beat up like six dozen construction workers for me?”
“He’s standing in front of you. He’s growing up. He’s seeing what your life took from you, and he’s finding ways to give it back. Now go have a fucking shower, before I rip those dirty clothes off you and put you in the bath myself.”
I slink away, feeling oddly comforted as well as chastised.
As I go to the bathroom, I realize that I have a perspective problem. I did go to the swamp with the asshole who tried to destroy me and yes, I kept him alive for a few days longer than was really necessary, but I never considered any of what I was doing as being selfish. And I really never thought Karl, of all fucking people, would be the one to point it out.
I was seeing Karl as just one thing. A brute. A monster. A scarred beast who decided he wanted to breed me. I never expected him to be a civilized man as well. I definitely never thought he’d get my brother into school and my other brothers into jobs.
I shower in a mood. I’m probably supposed to feel relieved at having a mate and landing on my feet. I guess I am. But I miss my home. And I miss my brothers. And I miss… myself. I feel like part of who I was got bulldozed with the rest of our home.
There is a small wardrobe of clothes that I don’t hate, so that’s good. I pick a black blouse and black skin-tight leggings with little diamantes in a serpent pattern. Not sure where they came from, but I like them. There’s boots too, mid-calf length. They have laces, but they zip up at the side. They’re snug in a comforting way, and that makes me feel better. So weird that something as simple as a pair of boots and a tight pair of pants can make the very real concerns of the world pretty much fade away.
“You look good,” Karl says. He meets me outside the bedroom, running his hand through my hair, helping it get a little more volume. Who the hell is this man?
“Thank you,” I say. “And thanks for the clothes. I’m so glad not to wear a prairie dress.”
A special dinner has been planned for our family reunion. My brothers are all looking good. They’ve all had haircuts, and they’re all dressed better than they ever have been. Looking at them makes me feel so guilty. This is what I was standing in the way of all this time. I should have done what the other adults told me what to do and let them be taken by others. They’d be so much better off if I hadn’t kept them in the swampy forest.
Tim and Tate tell me how they’re starting apprenticeships in construction. They look good. Happy. Fuck.
I smile my way through the meal because I know that’s what’s expected of me. This isn’t really all that different from the horrorshow my mother organized, except I like Karl and I want to make my brothers happy. Fortunately, the three of them carry the conversation quite happily.
Connor has a favorite subject in school. Art.
I never got him so much as a pack of crayons.
The longer I listen and the more I hear, the more my smile gets forced and the more the meal feels like it’s sitting in my stomach like a pile of lead.
I give myself a huge amount of credit for not crying at the table, but I know that would just upset my brothers and make them feel guilty for being happy. I am thrilled they’re happy. I just wish they’d been happier earlier.
“You were quiet tonight,” Karl notes as we prepare for bed. I’m uncomfortable here in this fancy house with these fancy things. His room is relatively bare by comparison, but it’s still solid and dry and the furniture hasn’t been inhabited by swamp things.
Can’t really complain about any of that. This is probably much healthier. I should have developed a preference for it earlier.
“Hm? Yes. Maybe,” I say.
I’m looking at the bed, a big king-sized thing with four posts and a big black bedspread. The sheets are a cream color. I don’t think it matters, really, but my attention is drawn to it.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing important,” I say, stripping to my underwear. I want him to stop asking questions. Getting into my undergarments should be enough to make him think of other things.
He grabs my elbow and turns me toward him. I find myself looking up into his rough, scarred face as he inspects my expression.
“Tell me what’s going on with you,” he insists.
“Can you just let this go?”
“I’m not letting anything about you go,” he says. “You’ve been through so much. You were kidnapped by Rainer. You were almost forced to marry his son, and you held him hostage for ransom.”
