“I understand.” She watched him, knowing he was drunker than anybody she’d ever seen, but also knowing it would only take a few minutes for him to sober up if necessary. She decided to launch right into everything she needed to say. “Tempest told me about herself, about you, about everybody. She told me everything.”
“Should have been me.”
“You had more than enough time to tell me and didn’t manage to get around to it. Honestly, I’m glad it was Tempest. It gave me time to think about everything from the point of view of my friend confiding in me instead of from me trying to make whatever it was you were feeling okay. Because I do that, you know? Put other people first. I’d have tried to make it all okay for you, instead of worrying about me.”
Remi nodded.
“Her telling me gave me a chance to figure out what I’m feeling instead of worrying about what you’re feeling.”
“Good for you.”
She cut her eyes to him, sizing him up. She’d never seen him drunk, but she was getting the distinct impression he was a surly drunk. “Make you feel better to be sarcastic with me?Go for it. I don’t care anymore. And since there’s no reason to carry this out any longer, I’d thought I’d get right to it. I’m done, Remi. I’ve had enough. After having all my questions answered, and all my wants weighed out against all the risks, none of the risks are worth the devastation I’d experience later when your path inevitably crossed Cristie’s again. So, I’m out. We’re over. It would have never worked anyway.”
“It would have worked,” he said, the hint of a snarl teasing the pronunciation of his words.
“How? I want children. You can’t give me children. I want a family. You can’t promise me a family.”
“I can provide both! Maybe not from my body, but I can give you both! My father didn’t give me to my mother, but we are still a family! I was loved! I am loved!” he yelled so loudly that she winced.
“And what happens in ten or twelve years when Cristie happens to come visit at a time we’re not aware and you stumble across her and this whole thing starts again? I’m left alone with however many kids we’ve decided we need, while you follow her around like a lost puppy and I feel like I’m less than dirt because I’m not her and she’s all you can see? No! That’s not the life I want; that threat hanging over my head all the time, I’d have bleeding ulcers. I could never completely believe in us. I’d always be waiting for the other shoe to fall. I wish you the best, Remi. I wish you every happiness, but I can’t do this. I’m just not strong enough.”
“You can’t do this because you won’t even try! It’s better I found out now!” he spat.
Bailey nodded slowly. “You’re right.” She got up and walked across the room, giving him and his whiskey a wide berth. She opened the door and stood there, looking back at him before she walked away for good. “I hope you follow your heart, Remi. She’sa beautiful woman, and as sweet and kind as she is beautiful. There are worse things in life.”
“Like thinking you’re loved when you’re really not.”
“If that makes it easier for you… sure. Take care, Remi.” Bailey walked through the door and pulled it softly closed behind herself. She got in her car and started the engine, backed out and despite the tears and sobs that wracked her body, managed to drive away without a single glance back at Remi’s house. Which was a good thing. Had she looked back she’d have seen the unopened whiskey bottle he’d been gripping in one hand crash through the window and land in the yard.
Remi scowled as he listened to Bailey driving away. “Don’t fucking need her,” he growled. “Don’t fucking need anybody! Fuck both of them!” He lifted the bottle he’d almost finished and guzzled down the rest of it, then threw it at the broken window to land in the yard a few feet from the full one. “Can’t fucking depend on anybody anymore,” he snarled, rolling to his knees to get up off the floor. He drunkenly wove his way into the kitchen, picked up the case of whiskey and carried it back to the living room where he returned to the floor and proceeded to drink himself into oblivion, or at the very least, an unconscious state.
Chapter 20
Hellen jumped up off the sofa and ran to her phone where she’d left it in the kitchen. “Hello?!” she said into it without even looking at the number calling.
“Hey, come get your male’s clothes,” Emmalyn said teasingly into the phone.
Hellen held her phone out from her ear so she could see the screen, then put it back against her ear. “What?” she asked, completely confused.
“So, we slept late. A little early celebrating, and just came out onto the porch for a late breakfast.”
“It’s two in the afternoon. I’d call it a late lunch.”
“Whatever… my point is, we walked out onto the porch to enjoy the day, and Barron says, ‘what’s that floating in the water?’. I look over and I say, ‘oh, my God, I think it’s a body, or a part of one’. Barron goes down, wades into the water and pulls out clothes. Not a body, or body parts, just some clothes spread out across the water’s surface. He says it’s the same clothes Lucien had on last night. Come get your male’s clothes and tell him to stop running around our neighborhood naked. We got two-and-a-half kids around here.”
“Seriously? They’re shifters, or whatever Tempest and Brandt’s turns out to be. Besides, shifters have no issue with nakedity. Two-and-a-half? That makes no sense.”
“Nakedity?” Emmalyn asked.
“It’s a word,” Hellen said, doing her best to be slightly amusing, but having not a single tone in her voice.
“No. It’s not a word.”
“Should be.”
“You coming to get your male’s clothes?”
“No. I’m pretty sure he’s not my male any more. Just leave them where you found them, or throw them out. I really don’t care anymore.”
