“Laiken landed in the middle of the ocean one time. I was sure she was going to tell a story about mermaids or something, but I should have known that Little Laik would never go the predictable route. She spun a story about an underwater city that felt so real, I swear I could smell salt in the air. She spent a week telling me all about it, and I was riveted.”
I chuckle at the memory and fist bump the melancholy that accompanies it.
“The story ended up taking a weird turn when the city broke down and we had to become cannibals to survive, but I’m telling you eventhatdidn’t make me not want to crawl into that fantasy world she created and live there. That was when I knew Laiken had a gift. She could make you see things in a way you never thought about. She had been doing that for me her whole life, but in that moment, I realized just what a powerful gift it was.”
I smile wistfully up at my dad as I continue to catch him up on my life.
“I’ll probably always wonder what she would have done with that gift; the possibilities were endless.” I go quiet for a bit, thinking about her. “I hear her in my dreams still,” I admit. “It’s not often, but I catch her from time to time. Does mom still talk to you?” I ask, and I find myself searching his face despite its blankness. “Sometimes I get the urge to ask Sorik about her, but I don’t want to make him sad, so I don’t.”
Silence stretches between us as all the questions I have about my mother and him and Sorik go unvoiced. I watch as the last of the tents go up and the sun dips lower toward the earth. The gray clouds that have been hovering all day take on a purple hue as the night slinks its way in to replace the day.
“Dad, are you cold?”
I stand up to go track down a jacket but freeze when his head swivels over to me. The blank look is still in place, but I’ve never seen him move without specifically being told to do it. I watch him for several minutes, my heart slowly settling down into its normal rhythm. Nothing else happens. I move to his other side to see if he’ll do it again.
“Dad, are you cold?”
He doesn’t move this time. Just stares off into the trees like he’s caught in their clutches somehow. It’s as though his consciousness is tangled in the branches so badly that if he just stares at it long enough, he can figure out a way to separate it all. I don’t know how long I watch him sitting on the rocks like a statue.
“Bruiser!” Bastien calls, pulling me from my uneasy observation. “Dinner time.”
I give him a wave and watch my dad for another beat. “Dad, stand up and follow me,” I instruct.
He follows, and I try not to sneak wary glances at him over my shoulder as we both head back toward the camp in silence. I’m not sure what happened, but I need to pay closer attention to him. Maybe this is normal and I’ve just never noticed before. I make a mental note to ask Sorik when he comes back.
I push back against the guilt that starts to steep in my center. I’ve wanted to keep Vaughn at arm’s length. I have no idea how to deal with this situation, and keeping him close while not getting too close has been working for me. But there are obviously things I’m missing in trying to keep my distance.
I throw an apologetic smile at Vaughn over my shoulder. It bounces off his stone-like features and falls to the ground. I let out a resigned exhale and silently vow to do more for him, to do better. I lead Vaughn to the warm fire that’s already bright and blazing in the middle of the tents. I order him to sit down and watch him for another beat. I turn around, guilt and disquiet settling in my bones. My eyes land on Ryker’s, and he opens his arms in welcome.
I step into him, and as soon as his arms wrap around me, I can feel some of my anxiety melt away. Ryker presses his lips to the top of my head, and I hold onto him like the lifeline he is.
“You okay?” he asks, running his hands up and down my back in soothing gestures.
I breathe out a sigh and nuzzle his chest. “Yeah, my eyes and wishful thinking are just playing tricks on me.”
“Here.” Ryker directs me to sit in a fold out camping chair.
He kneels at my feet and pulls a booted foot into his lap. He tugs at the laces, and I smile, recognizing exactly what he’s doing.
“Ryker,” I protest and attempt to reclaim my foot.
“Squeaks,” he mocks. “Let me take care of you. Don’t be stubborn. Besides, we both know you love it when I work my magic.”
He winks at me, and I chuckle, unable to help myself. I lean back in the chair and run a hungry gaze all over his face and body. His blond hair is longer than it was the first time we met, and I reach out and run my fingers through it. Ryker smiles at me, his full lips and happy blue eyes doing all the right things for the butterflies in my stomach. He pulls my shoe and sock off and then starts rubbing my foot. I moan when he digs into a sore spot with his magic hands. Ryker grins.
“Love that noise,” he teases and then massages another sore spot.
“Love you,” I counter, and I lean forward with pursed lips demanding a kiss.
Ryker happily obliges and then leans back and gets to work rubbing my aches and pains away. We don’t talk. We just soak in each other’s presence and let it work as a balm for all the apprehension and strain this adventure is causing. I let out a relieved breath as he silently does his thing. His answering grin is filled with tenderness and raw affection.
“Don’t worry, Squeaks, I got you.”
My smile mirrors his. “Ditto.”
Ryker starts on my other foot, and I chase away any emotion or thought that doesn’t allow me to just appreciate my mate and focus on how much I love him. I’m one lucky girl, that’s for fucking sure.
7
