Page 8 of More Than I Can Bear

“I’m fine, Mum.”

I was in my twenties, but my parents were fussing like a pair of old chooks, which was why I hadn’t wanted to call them in the first place. They worried. But it was worse than that, because they shouldn’t have had to. I was old enough to be able to manage my own transport and I went back to deciding I’d Uber it there and then, when Dad said the fatal words.

“If you’d got your bloody licence when I told you to, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

And there it was. I’d managed to get A’s in art, history and English at school. I’d always ended up with a credit or above at university, with quite a few high distinctions. I got my arse to work, the markets, to the shops, everywhere, by myself. And if I worked somewhere closer to where I lived, I could’ve taken my push bike home, rather than have this embarrassing conversation. I snuck a look at this River guy, sure I would see the same expression as appeared on everyone’s face when they found out I couldn’t drive.

Shock, incredulity, a hint of mockery or just garden variety awkwardness, I’d seen it all because, in Australia, you got your licence as quickly as possible, relishing the freedom that came from being able to drive yourself around this big, broad, brown land of ours.

Just not me.

Dad had tried. Mum had tried. Even my younger brother had given it a crack when he got off his P plates, but it never worked. I could draw, paint whatever you wanted, but put me behind the wheel and I was a mess. Too many people driving way too fast, too many indicators and gears and pedals. Dad had tried hard to instil a healthy fear of other drivers when I’d first started, but that had only made things worse. The minute I got in the driver’s seat my heart pounded, my eyes flicked around wildly and I sucked in breaths so fast I became lightheaded.

“I’ll get an Uber,” I reiterated.

“No, you won’t,” Mum said. “I saw something on Today Tonight the other night and—”

“I can get your daughter safely home,” River assured them. “You can track her progress using an app. I can keep you on the phone for the whole trip, if that’d help.”

And somehow that deep voice seemed to settle the both of them.

“Yes, well, that’d be a big help,” Dad said, “but you’ll need to bring Frey here.”

“Daaad…” I groaned.

“You know your mother and I worry,” Dad said. “We won’t sleep a wink until we know you’re safe in bed. You can go back to that hellhole you call home in the morning. I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”

“Fine,” I ground out.

Dad rattled the home address off, which was probably safer. Delivery or Uber drivers had been known to turn up uninvited to single women’s places, something I’d learned from Mum when she was watching those damn current affairs shows.

“I’m sorry,” River said, softly, when the call ended. “I never meant…” I watched his shoulders sag and all of a sudden, Art Boy didn’t seem anywhere near as scary. “I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“It’s OK.”

Why the hell was I reassuring him? For the life of me, I couldn’t work that out. He gave a half-smile then nodded to a fancy looking work ute that was sitting in the car park, the dark blue paint gleaming. With his long strides, River reached the ute ahead of me. He unlocked the passenger side door and then opened it for me, the gentlemanly act strangely sweet, but with my building exhaustion I was just glad I wasn’t going to have to make the run from my train stop to the bus that would take me closest to my place. I watched River snap a photo of his licence, sitting it on the bonnet, so he could get his rego plate in the picture. He paused a few moments more to compose a text and then send the message, presumably to Dad.

If he was a serial killer, he wasn’t a very smart one. However, the way I was feeling, I was pretty sure I’d have got in a car with Ted Bundy, if that’s what it took to get me in bed and asleep faster. River got in the car, his size making the cab feel so much smaller and cosier when he did. Then those grey eyes slid sideways as he reached over to grab something. I thought maybe it was the street directory or something. Some young people still used them, too technologically challenged to work out how the sat-nav worked, but he grabbed the seat belt I’d neglected to put on, clipping it across my body, before buckling up on his side. He slotted the key in and the engine rumbled to life, and then we were off.

Chapter4

River

I was an idiot, a total fucking idiot. I’d hung around the cafe like a bad smell, waiting for the two women to indicate they were packing up for the day, and instead it had finally become clear that I was holding them up and the two of them were waiting onme.

Kaine had sauntered over and sorted out the woman whose kid had been trashing the place earlier today, but I’d… I’d made Freya’s job harder, her day longer and, now, her life more complicated. My teeth locked down, and I had to keep my lips pressed tight together to stop myself from flashing my fangs. When I’d walked over and offered her a lift, I’d thought I was doing the right thing, until I caught the harsh chemical blast of her fear. She usually smelled like flowers, pretty ones, but when I’d scared her by appearing out of the blue, she’d stunk like those awful toilet fresheners.

Because of you, the bear rumbled. He didn’t know how or why, because he found the rules of human behaviour frankly confusing, but he knew this much. Predators came out at night and we’d made her vulnerable to them. It could’ve been easily rectified in his head. We’d take Freya home to our place, that wasn’t far from here, and move her into our house. We’d protect her, look after her, lo— I shook my head as I drove down the largely empty road, towards my real destination.

Freya’s parents’ house.

Meeting the in-laws was a whole step in itself and Kaine would kill me when he found out I’d gone rogue and met them by myself. However, I couldn’t find it in myself to regret it. I was here with her, in a small space, breathing her scent in, and I’d found out that she had parents who cared about her, given her dad’s concerns. I was content that they didn’t trust me… yet. She deserved that kind of care. But my fingers still tightened around the steering wheel with stress at my idiocy, making the vinyl creak, as black hair rose and fell across my knuckles.

“So, are you working at the building site up the road?” she asked.

My eyes darted sideways, shocked she’d even talk to me, but those beautiful hazel eyes were staring straight into mine. I smiled slightly, hoping to reassure her, smooth her feathers and shift her scent to something sweeter.

“I’m a carpenter,” I explained. “And, yeah, we’re working on that new housing development. The guy you met before?”

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