Page 124 of Pack Scratch Fever
“And who’s to say she’ll use it for rent?” I ask. “Or would she feel guilty and give some away to other rescues or charities?”
“Fuck.” Maddox sighs and leans back on the couch. “You’re right. I don’t know what to fucking do!” he snaps. “We have to do somethingbig. How the fuck do you say, ‘I’m sorry my packmate was a piece of shit?’”
My pacing grows faster. I go back and forth through the living room, exhaling slowly.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my mind,” he growls. “I already can’t think or sleep. The only time I felt half normal was when I was with those fucking cats.”
“I wonder if that’s how Piper feels,” I say softly.
Helping out at the rescue has been the only thing that’s made me feel marginally better.
I’m away from my scent match, from the one person that makes my life complete. But it seems as if connecting with what she cares about connects me to her, in a way.
If I can’t be physically close to her, I can be close to her in this sense.
Through her love for cats.
I don’t think anyone has noticed, but I added a few plush animals to her nesting room—no matter what Piper says, it’s still going to be her room, if she ever changes her mind.
If she ever wants us back.
There’s no one else for me after this, and I’m sure it’s the same for Poe and Maddox.
She’s ourmate.
“I need to know she’s okay,” I mumble, and Maddox frowns, furiously typing at his keyboard.
“I’m sure she is,” he says, even though I can hear the disbelief in his voice. “If we go stalker mode on Blair, she won’t appreciate it.”
“You want to, though,” I accuse.
“Of course I fucking want to,” he snarls, and I stop pacing. “You think you’re the only one struggling without her? Itconsumesme. She’s fucking hurt, and I can’t do anything about it, so yes, I’m tempted to do some shady shit. I’m tempted to fucking hack both PiperandBlair’s phones, just so I can know if Piper is alright. But I won’t, because it will upset her in the long run. Okay?”
I nod, chastised. “I know.”
Maddox rarely opens up about his past anymore, but I know he began to see Piper as an extension of his family.
He’s lost so much of that in his lifetime, and he’s struggling more than he lets on.
“She’s alright, Avery,” he says in a low voice. “Blair would tell us if something was wrong.”
I know that.
I know that.
I head into the kitchen, still brainstorming what we could do to make this better.
That’s when I see movement out of the corner of my eye and turn my attention to the backyard.
Through the glass door, I see a flurry of movement in Poe’s herb garden, and my eyes widen.
Cats furiously dig at the dirt, while others roll around in it. One is chewing happily on leaves that sprout through the chicken wire, and a particularly large cat I’ve never seen before is relieving itself in one of the planter boxes.
I should shoo them away, but I watch the animals wreak havoc instead.
Maybe it’s poetic justice for how insufferable Poe has been.
I’m so enraptured by the scene before me that I don’t even realize my pack leader is in the kitchen with me until I turn my head. He’s watching the chaos silently with his arms crossed, his mouth pulled into a frown.
