Kat was grateful that Brady hadn’t pressed her about what she’d done. She couldn’t really explain her actions to herself so telling him was out of the question.
She’d spent the last five days on tenterhooks waiting for him to show up at the Den. It had never entered her mind that he would take her at her word. She thought for sure he’d be there the next day. Or even after he’d dealt with the details of his brother’s body that first day.
Instead he’d gone away and not come back. She couldn’t explain the pain that brought her. She hadn’t been surprised though. He’d left before. She’d expected him to leave again.
Why she’d thought that, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as though he’d made a habit of leaving exactly; he’d only ever done it once. Except he’d disappeared without a word. And not one since either. Her subconscious obviously thought he’d repeat that behavior even if her mind had started to see what little choice he would have had in the decision to leave Whispering Springs.
When Brady and his mother had first disappeared, his father had told everyone they’d gone to visit a sick relative and would be back. Days turned into weeks turned into months, and before she knew it, he’d been gone a year and no one seemed to acknowledge their absence. Least of all his brother and father.
Kat hadn’t understood it as a teenager and in the years since, with an adult perspective, she still didn’t understand.
She wanted to know why he’d gone. Where he’d gone. Why he never contacted her. Why he hadn’t come home before now.
In the years since Brady disappeared, Kat thought she’d moved past the betrayal she’d felt when he left. The last few days—and lectures from her sister—had proven that a lie. In spite of the hurt he’d inflicted all those years ago, she still loved him.
She’d loved him with a young girl’s heart, an innocent, naive love that hadn’t died when Brady left. That young, fragile emotion had lain dormant, hidden in some recess of her heart only to be resurrected the minute he walked into her cafe.
Resurrected with the fiery blaze of a mates connection.
It explained a lot about her interactions with men, that was for sure.
She’d messed around with a few boys back in high school. Even dated a couple of men in the years since then, except none of them had inspired more than curiosity or a second date. There was no burn of desire. No urge to strip off clothes and get as close as possible like there was with Brady.
Jeez, more than once over the years, she’d entertained the idea she was frigid.
Brady had proven that notion wrong.
Her body had been in a state of simmering arousal since he’d arrived.
As she’d done for the last week, she ignored the demands of her body and coyote, and concentrated on getting lunch heated. She’d decided on beef stew. It would warm them up, and she’d been told by many it was one of her best meals.
Not that she was out to impress Brady with her cooking. Nope. She had no interest in dazzling him with her culinary skills.
He moved behind her where she stood at the ancient stove stirring the stew. “What is that?” he asked over her shoulder.
The kitchen was small, the stove in one corner where if someone wanted to see what she was cooking, they’d have to get up close. Real close. She tried to ignore the heat from his body, the warmth of his breath washing over the side of her face where he leaned forward.
The cool scent of forest and man overtook the smell of beef and vegetables warming in the saucepan and Kat’s coyote stretched, rumbled a growl of pleasure at her mate’s scent. Swallowing thickly, she managed, “Beef stew.”
“Smells amazing. Sure beats canned soup.”
“Canned soup?” She spun around, the breath sucking from her lungs at just how close he stood. If she breathed deeply, her breasts would touch his chest. They were almost eye-level. He had a couple of inches on her, and this close she could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Licking her lips, she lowered her gaze to his chin and murmured, “Please tell me you’ve been eating something better than canned soup since you got here.”
“I won’t lie to you ever again, Ren.” He trailed a fingertip down her cheek, over her jaw and, pressing under her chin, he applied pressure until she looked up and met his gaze. “I couldn’t help breaking my promise before but I don’t plan to ever break one again. So, yes, I’ve been living on canned soup.”
Canned soup? What was he talking about? The only thing she understood was the fire blazing beneath her skin. The growl of her coyote as she clambered to be free. Free to take her mate. Be taken by him.
“Ren?” His finger left her skin.
“Huh?”
“The stew’s boiling over.”
“What? Oh!” Spinning around she switched off the heat and searched for steady ground. What the hell was that? He’d barely touched her and completely short circuited her brain.
She knew part of it was they were mates. The mating bond was sharp and fierce and hard to deny. Except she had to.
He needed to explain. She needed to understand.
No mating bond was going to dictate what happened in her life. If she was going to be with Brady—and right now she couldn’t deny that was a probability—they needed to clear the air.
Jumping his bones, while appealing, wasn’t why she’d come here today.
Kat needed to remember nothing and no one forced her hand. If she didn’t want to mate Brady, she didn’t have to. It was a shame she could no longer say with one hundred percent certainty she believed that.
Clearing her throat she asked, “Got clean plates?” while checking she hadn’t burned the stew.
“Sure.” Brady stepped away, taking his heat with him, leaving a chilled shiver racing over her skin in his absence.
Drawing in a deep breath, Kat tried to clear her mind of anything except putting food in front of them. She’d never had to deal with a raging libido before and wasn’t sure she had the strength to deny their attraction.
That scared her.
The knowledge that Brady could distract her from anything and everything didn’t sit well. For a woman used to being in control, having a man—a mate—snatch it away so easily was a terrifying prospect.
She might not know this grown-up Brady, but she’d loved the young Brady with her whole heart. If she couldn’t trust him to be careful with her heart—and her heart would definitely be involved—they could hurt each other badly.
She cursed her lack of relationship skills. She’d never had a boyfriend, never let anyone as close as Brady had once been. Kat wasn’t stupid enough to deny Brady’s leaving was the reason for that. He’d cut her open, left her behind, and as far as she knew, he hadn’t looked back. Except maybe he had. She wouldn’t know until she asked him.
Biting her tongue, she filled the bowls Brady put on the counter beside her and held in all her questions.
There would be time to ask; she wasn’t rushing into anything, not with the way her mind and heart and coyote were at war over what to do.
Her coyote wanted to lie down, roll over, and offer him her belly—her throat.
Her heart yearned for the love they’d once shared with the deeper adult connection their age hadn’t allowed before.
Her head, well her head was screaming at her to run. Run far away because it knew once she let Brady in, she’d let him in completely, and this time, if he left she’d be slashed to ribbons and never recover.
Except had she? Had she ever recovered from the first time?
The roiling emotions she’d experienced when she’d seen him in the Den said she hadn’t gotten over his betrayal at all. She needed closure on that part of their lives. Needed to understand why he’d left and why he’d never come back or contacted her in all these years.
“Ask me.”
Kat’s gaze snapped up to meet Brady’s. “What?”
“I can all but hear your brain spinning with questions. Ask me, Ren.”
“Okay.” She put her spoon down, her stomach rolling at the thought of getting answers. “Why did you leave?”
“Because my mother told me to.”
“Well, yeah, I guessed that, but why did she leave? Why did she take you away from here and never come back?”
“Do you remember the year Brogan and Rowen’s parents died?”
“Yes. Their car slid off the road and they crashed into a tree. Dad said both of them died on impact.”
“That was the night Mom packed up a few of our belongings and drove us off the mountain.”
“Why? I don’t understand. She left Marcus behind, and your father.”
“Let me tell you what happened and then you can ask any other questions.”
Kat nodded.
“Dad came home, smashed through the front door naked and yelling. At first I thought he was drunk. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d loaded up and gone off except that night was different. I didn’t understand why until he mentioned the Wilders were dead. Yelled now that he was sovereign he could clear the pack of non-bloods and half-bloods, return the pack to being pure instead of tainted by human blood.”
She opened her mouth but closed it when Brady shook his head.
“Mom ask him why he thought the Wilders were dead, and he looked at her like she was stupid. He backhanded her, sending her to the floor as he yelled he’d killed them. Shouted no self-respecting full-blood coyote should saddle himself with a human wife and half-blood children never mind be allowed to lead a pack with them by his side.”
“But they crashed, went off the side of the road.”
“I don’t know the details of the crash, but if I know anything about my father I know he would have had supporters get rid of any evidence that pointed to the accident being anything except an accident.”
“Oh.” She could see Malcolm Connelly doing that. And she remembered when he first took over as sovereign he had a lot of supporters on the council and in the sheriff’s department. That had changed during his reign of terror but before that, yeah, she could definitely see him getting someone to clean up after him.
“The look on your face tells me he could have covered it up.”
Nodding, Kat said, “Yes, back then he had people on his side who would have helped.”
“After more yelling, a few more smacks for Mom, a punch for me, and a smile for Marcus, he left. Everything moved quickly after that. Mom packed a couple of bags, left everything else, and told us to get in the truck. Marcus refused, called her all sorts of names, and said he was going to tell Dad we’d left. I think it was the last part that made Mom realize we had to go or we weren’t going.
“She climbed into the driver’s seat and drove. Hours and hours she drove and cried, and I couldn’t do anything. Not then, not before, not after. We drove straight through to Nebraska and arrived at the house of a friend she’d known before she met Dad. A man she’d gone to school with; at one point they’d been a couple and I don’t know how or why they separated and she ended up with Dad, but Mom and Hank were soul mates.”
“Nebraska? How did she end up here?”
Brady shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish I did. I still don’t really understand why she wanted us to leave. I get Dad was abusive, but from what I remember, he’d always been that way, and that night wasn’t any worse than all the others so why did she want to leave? Why did she forbid me from contacting anyone here?”
“Sounds like you have just as many questions as I do.”
“I do. And I might have a way of finding some answers but I need help.”
Kat didn’t know how he could find answers when all the key players were dead, but if there was a way she’d help. “How? Help with what?”
“Mom left boxes. I haven’t gone through them but I know there are journals in there. From the first day we arrived at Hank’s she kept a journal. I have them all.”
“Personal diaries? I’m not sure how I feel about reading someone’s, your mother’s, private thoughts.”
“I’m not comfortable with it either except I think they hold the truth about that night and a lot more. I know we haven’t seen each other in thirteen years, but if anyone besides me is going to read those journals, I want it to be you.”