Remy wasn’t sure what to say to that. This wasn’t the direction he’d expected this conversation to go. “I have to admit, you’re taking this way better than I think most people would.”
Triana came to mind.
“Probably not any better than the average person on the street.” Drew regarded him thoughtfully. “You should have more faith in people. Most of them would surprise you with how accepting they can be if you give them a chance.”
Remy was still considering that when Drew stood up and announced he was going to go hunt down some of that gumbo he’d been smelling. Remy nodded, saying he’d join him later. He was wondering if he should change into a dry uniform before he did, when Cooper walked in with two plates of steaming food and plunked one down on the table in front of him.
“You should eat,” Cooper said as he sat down across from him. “You look like shit.”
Remy snorted as he opened the plastic-wrapped utensil set Cooper tossed him. “Thanks for that. Nice to see you too.”
“Just pointing out the obvious.” Cooper dug into his gumbo and rice like he hadn’t eaten in a week. “You know me. Truth and sarcasm are just two of the many services I provide.”
Remy chuckled as he slid his plate of food closer. You could always count on Cooper, the Pack’s explosives expert, to interject a heavy dose of snark into any situation. The guy simply couldn’t carry on a normal conversation without slipping in at least one smart-ass comment. Remy had no idea how his new bride put up with him.
He ate a big forkful of gumbo, then immediately decided he didn’t want another bite. While the food looked amazing and smelled even better, it tasted like dirt. He shoved the plate away with a growl of frustration.
Cooper looked at him. “Max mentioned you weren’t feeling so well lately. No appetite, huh?”
Remy shook his head. “Not really. I guess I’ve been pushing myself too hard and it’s starting to catch up to me.”
As lies went, it wasn’t bad. In fact, it sounded so logical Remy almost found himself believing it. Unfortunately, Cooper didn’t.
“Is that the line you’re going with? That you’re overworked?” Cooper said, not even slowing down in between bites. “You don’t think the way you’re feeling might have something to do with what’s going on between you and Triana?”
“No,” Remy insisted.
There was no way he was talking to Cooper about Triana. He was doing everything he could to put her behind him. Remembering the way she’d recoiled from him after the raid at Lee’s home definitely helped accomplish that. It was obvious she couldn’t even stand to look at him. Rehashing everything wasn’t going to help.
“Really?” Cooper lifted a brow. “Because Max mentioned you started feeling sick when you decided to push her away.”
“Max says a lot of shit he should keep to himself,” Remy muttered, slamming his fist down on the table and growling loud enough everyone in the whole facility probably heard it.
He regretted lashing out immediately, but Cooper didn’t seem fazed at all. Instead, he regarded Remy thoughtfully.
“Fear leads to anger,” Cooper said softly. “Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”
Remy stared at him. Where the hell did Cooper get this stuff? It sounded deep as shit, but surprisingly, it actually made sense. “Did you just make that up?”
Cooper shook his head and ate another forkful of gumbo. “Nah, that was Yoda. But it seems to fit. It’s obvious you’re scared to commit to a relationship with Triana, and that fear is leading you down a path of one dumb-ass decision after another. You’re feeling like this because you’re making a mistake. And while the rest of humanity has the free will to make all kinds of dumb-ass mistakes, there are some decisions that are essentially out of a werewolf’s hands, like who they end up loving.”
Remy ground his jaw. He wanted to tell Cooper he didn’t love Triana, but the thought of denying it made him sick. “So you’re trying to tell me I have no say in this? That werewolves don’t get to make a decision that’s in the best interest of everyone involved? That I can’t walk away from Triana if I know being with me is going to get her killed?”
His hands shook as he said the words, pain and queasiness radiating out from his stomach in waves. This must be what it feels like to be a junkie trying to come down from a drug the body is sure it needs to exist. That’s what it felt like Triana was, something he needed in order to live.
Remy got a grip and pushed that thought away. Getting involved with Triana had already gotten her kidnapped and almost killed. He might carry a gris-gris bag, but in every way that mattered, he was cursed. If he gave in, something else bad was going to happen to the woman he cared for more than anything in the world.
No matter how crappy he felt at that moment, he wasn’t going to turn his back on his promise to never let that happen again.
Cooper reached over and grabbed Remy’s uneaten plate of gumbo. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said as he ate. “You have the free will necessary to walk away from Triana. It’s just going to come with a price.”
Remy gritted his teeth as a particularly bad spasm of pain rushed through him, almost making him double over. Shit, he’d been shot before and it hadn’t hurt like this. He wondered if this might actually be something that ended up killing him. Then decided he didn’t care.
“That’s a price I’m willing to pay,” he said.
“That’s cool. Be a hard-nosed badass, then.”
Cooper finished the second helping of gumbo, then picked up both paper plates and walked over to toss them in the trash can. A moment later, he came back and leaned down over the table, his face inches from Remy’s. “There’s just one thing you might want to consider as you’re suffering stoically in your misery.”
