But somehow, he still didn’t quite have his answer. Because maybe the problem wasn’t what Matt had said. Maybe it was what Jason still believed, that being useful was what earned him a place. That if he wasn’t the one keeping everyone fed, he wasn’t… anything.
“Night, Jason,” Matt said, and turned to make his way toward the barn.
Jason continued down the path to his bunkhouse, swearing he could still feel the warmth of Matt’s hand. He liked that fact.
He just wished it was enough.
Chapter Eighteen
RILEY
Now that Jason was gone, back to the ranch, out of reach, there was nothing left to distract Riley. Just him, and the mess he’d made with his monumental meltdown by the stream. Jesus Christ. What the hell had he done out there?
He rubbed a hand over his face, half-expecting his palm to come away smeared with mess from all the ugly, jagged things he’d spilled at Jason’s feet. Great move, Riley. Nothing like unloading years of daddy issues and failures onto the one good thing you’ve managed to find in years.
He paced across the room, then back again, every nerve jittery. The silence let him hear the echo of his own voice, bitter and brittle.
What the hell had Jason thought of him? No one liked that much mess laid out in front of them. Usually, Riley kept things light. Slick, charming and palatable. People wanted a version ofsomeone that fit their expectations so they didn’t need toseethem, and God knew he’d learned how to give them that. But not today.
And what was even worse, if worse were possible—he’d complained about his parents to Jason, who’dlosthis mom, and whose dad might not even know he existed. Riley was officially a completely selfish bastard.
He braced his hands on the desk, head dropping forward. He half-expected to feel the burn of humiliation still hot on his skin, but weirdly, there was none. Because Jason hadn’t looked at him like he was something ugly and broken. He hadn’t even flinched. Instead, he’d listened. And he’d stayed.
He breathed out, shakily. That maybe scared him more than anything else, that Jason hadseenhim, and hadn’t bolted. It should make him feel secure.
Instead, something churned low in his gut. Because the part he hadn’t told Jason—couldn’t tell Jason—was still sitting there, festering. His reason for being here.
Riley stared at his phone where it sat on the desk. He should message Amy. Should let her know he was getting in deeper, that he was finally close to figuring out how to crack this pack open.
Except, his fingers didn’t move. Not because he couldn’t craft the words. He’d done it before. Sold people out—always telling himself it was the price of getting ahead, the way to survive in a world where love came with conditions. But now, it felt less like survival and more like betrayal.
Blowing out an impatient breath, he grabbed for his phone anyway. He could sit here second-guessing all damn night, but that wouldn’t change anything. Jason deserved better than whatever Riley was, but that didn’t mean Riley had a choice.
He tapped out a short message.Got partial or full ID on all pack members now.Meeting them tomorrow.
Then he looked at it for a long time before finally locking his phone without sending. Tomorrow would be soon enough.
As he flopped onto his bed, the motel room seemed to close in around him. Staring up at the ceiling, he could still hear Jason’s voice, still feel his touch on Riley’s wrist, like an anchor.
Tomorrow, he’d have to get on with his investigation. Tonight, though, he just wanted to remember what it felt like to be wanted, without conditions.
JASON
The knock at Jason’s door came as he was reaching for his phone, wanting to look at the picture of him and Riley again.
Curious, because hardly anyone came to his room, he opened the door and found Dave standing there. His hands were buried in the front pockets of his jeans, pulling his shoulders into a curved line that made him look somehow uncertain.
“Hey,” he said. “I wondered if I could get that recipe now, before I forget about it.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jason said. “I’ll shoot you the link.”
“Okay, but would you mind talking me through it first?” Dave asked.
Jason became aware he was blocking the doorway and stepped back, allowing Dave to head for the chair in the corner. He sat on his bed, ready to talk Dave through the recipe he’d found.
“Actually, Jason, the recipe was just an excuse. I wanted to see if everything’s okay,” Dave said. “You’ve never taken time off before, and you missed the other night, too.”
Matt checking in hadn’t been that much of a surprise. It was what he did, kept an eye on them all and made sure everything was okay. But why would Dave be worried about him?
