Bell just stared at the phone, like I’d set a rattlesnake down in front of her, not a direct line of communication to her loved ones.
Ready my ass.
“Noelle just gave birth to twin babies a couple of days ago, and Holly’s about a month or so away from having her baby,” I added through clenched teeth. “They’ll both be real happy to hear from you.”
She was visibly stunned. “Wait, Noelle had the babies?” She jumped up from the table. “Why didn’t you... why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell Zion the real reason you wanted him to go this morning?” I shot back, also coming to a stand. “Because it wasn’t just to give me cookies, was it? He made progress with you. Now you’re over at my house, trying to cancel it out. Running scared again.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it!”
“You’re right. I’m a real asshole. Call your oldest daughter and tell her that. Tell her to come get you and save you from the guy who’s always ready to protect you—even from news you’re not ready to hear yet.”
“I’m not...I can’t…” She reset. “Noelle’s postpartum, and Holly’s got so much going on right now. I’m not going to bother them with any of my mess.”
“I thought you were all healed,” I sneered. Peachy keen. Ready to face the world on your own two feet.”
"I am, it's just?—"
"It's just you can't stop lying to yourself," I finished for her. "You're trying to tell me you're all healed up. But healed people can face their own damn daughters. Healed people have enough self-worth that they don't pretend to be healed just so they won't have to deal with the fallout of feeling something real. You're not all better, Bell. You're just better at pretending you're not still a damn mess."
"That's not—that's not true." Angry tears sprang to her eyes. "I took care of myself before I met you, and I can do it again."
How was she still not seeing the point of all of this, why we brought her here? "You don't need to take care of yourself. You've got us now. We are your bears, and we will provide you with anything you want. You just have to get your head out of the damn sand, stop trying to manipulate me with sugar cookies, and accept what we're offering you."
"You…" She shook her head, eyes blazing. "You really think I'm so inept I can't take care of myself? That I came here to manipulate you with cookies? I'm an adult, Ravik. A fifty-six-year-old woman who survived months of captivity. I don't need you to tell me when I'm ready."
That was what she got out of everything I just said?
"Okay, keep throwing that number around while acting like a child who can't hear what I’m saying," I answered. "Then come back and ask me to let up on your overnight protection when you're adult enough to face your daughters."
"I hate you." Her voice shook—not with tears, but with fury. "I hate you for making me feel this small."
I'd gone too far. I knew it the second the words left my mouth. But instead of apologizing, I folded my arms, pretending that I didn't care about her feelings—or acknowledge I'd pushed too hard because I was frustrated she was trying to pull our maul two steps back for every one we got forward with her.
"Alright, well, you can go hate me in your A-frame coffin, and whine to Boone about it when he reports in for sentry duty tonight." My voice came out flat. Cold. "And new rule: you keep your phone on you at all times."
"What?" Her head jerked back. "Wait, you can tell Boone and Zion what to do, but you can't make me?—"
"I've done such a good job of holding my bear back, Bell." My voice dropped low, barely controlled. Dangerous. "Do you really want to see what I'm capable of when you cross me on an order?"
She stared at me, her eyes flashing and furious. Ursa, she was beautiful, even when she was pissed at me for bad-copping her.
"Are you going to tell me you hate me again before you pick up that phone, or are you just going to do as I say and go back to your little hideaway to lick your wounds?"
Bell snatched up the phone. But then she said, "This is the last gift. Don't leave me anything else, or I'll just send it back. I don't want…"
She lifted her angry gaze to meet my intractable one. "I don't want anything else from you."
Niska would have just frozen me out, but Bell had found a way to surmount our power imbalance by lobbing that grenade—and direct hit. I felt it detonate in my chest.
Then she turned on her heel and stormed toward the door.
As rigid as I felt about this, at the last moment, I said, "Bell, wait, can we just?—"
The door slammed before I could get to "…talk."
She was gone.
