Lessons in Love

Chapter 45: Band-aids

POV: Beta Ben Westlake

Rick was finished setting up the supplies next to me on the coffee table. “You want to do the honors?” Rick asked, holding out a cotton swab to me.

I looked up at him and realized that I had never once patched my own wounds. I shook my head, sliding off the coffee table and kneeling on the floor next to my mother. “You’re the expert.” I said, almost embarrassed by the admission.

Rick blushed a little and sat down. He smiled brightly at my mother, the way he used to smile at me in his parents’ shed when he doctored my wounds. For the first time, I saw the effort behind that smile. “This might hurt a little.” He said, cleaning a cut above her eye. My mother winced but settled her eyes on me. She reached a shaking hand and pulled my collar back to see if I had a mating mark.

“Mom,” I groaned, making her smile. “All we did was hold hands.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Rick shot me look.

My mother turned her gaze on Rick. “Is that so?” Her voice was raspy.

“Yup!” Rick smiled at her and leaned in a little. “They also hugged.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and held up two fingers. “Twice.” He added.

“And you had the audacity to call me Victorian.” She laughed. The laugh turned into a bit of cough. Her throat was dry.

“Not just that,” Rick continued. “You want to tell her what you did at lunch?” He eyed me.

“I honestly think she’ll enjoy it more coming from you. I’m going to get you a glass of water.” I said, standing up. Rick laughed behind me. I was at the kitchen door when I heard him get serious and tell her, “They claimed each other.” He said, dropping his voice low. “Verbally.” He said, trying to make the word sound s****l. My mother giggled at him as I went into the kitchen.

Rick fell easily into the pattern of caretaker, and I didn’t know what to say or do. He used to make me laugh by cracking some joke about something from school or something one of our friends had done in training. It was what he was doing with my mother. I gripped the counter for a moment and just breathed slowly. It was hard to watch, in a way. On the one hand, I knew she was in good hands. On the other, it took me back to so many beatings, that I couldn’t pick just one to remember.

All I kept thinking was that if we hadn’t come by to ask her about Henry, she would have been down there alone until my father had returned home, drunk no doubt, and looking to finish what he’d started. I covered my mouth with my hand, afraid that I was going to cry, and they would hear me. I didn’t want to upset her further. I took another deep breath and got the glass of water.

I came back in, and Rick was happily chatting away, telling some inane story about an incident on the training field from two weeks ago. I handed her the glass and knelt back down next to her. She sipped the water for a moment, then let Rick continue.

“Sweetheart,” she said gently. “You should go help Riley.” She tried to smile at me, but I could tell it was something else that prompted asking me to go.

“Riley can manage, mom.” I said, trying to smile at her.

“Ben,” she touched my cheek. “You’re my brave boy, but watching Rick clean my wounds is hurting you more than it’s hurting me.” She whispered.

Rick didn’t look over at me. He kept his eyes trained on his cache of supplies. I let out a heavy sigh. “You just want to see if he’ll tell you more gossip about me and Riley.” I managed a chuckle. She smiled at me and patted my cheek. “Fine, but I’ll be back in five minutes.” I said, standing up.

“Is there more gossip about those two?” She asked Rick as I moved around behind the couch toward the stairs.

Rick looked up at me with an understanding smile. “Oh, I’m sure there’s something … did he tell you about how they accidently almost killed each other.”

“What?!”

“Rick, seriously?” I complained.

“Go help with the luggage.” Rick winked at me. “So, the other night …” He started. I groaned and went upstairs. I quietly made my way down the hall to my parents’ room and stopped in the doorway. Riley was pulling armfuls of clothes out of the dresser and putting them in a small suitcase. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at me. She quickly turned back to the dresser, but I saw that she was crying.

“How’s your mother?” She asked, stuffing more clothes in the suitcase.

I moved forward and took her hand. She turned and pressed her face into my chest, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I held her close, resting my cheek on the top of her head. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m so sorry, Ben.” She said quietly.

“For what?”

“That this has happened to you. To both of you. I wish …” She sniffled.

“I know,” I whispered into her hair. “I wish that too.” Truthfully, I would give up everything I had, my job, my title, everything, if it meant that we could have had a life without him.

“I’m so angry. How are you so calm?” She growled into my chest.

I tightened my arms around her. “I’m not.” I let the barrier around my emotions down and felt her tense at the flood of rage that hit her.

She looked up at me, putting her hand on my cheek. “You feel this way most days, don’t you?” She whispered. I nodded. “Ben,” she flexed her aura around us, and some of the rage I felt melted away instantly. “Ben, I …”

“Ben, we’ve got to move.” Rick’s voice rang through my head.

“It’s Rick,” I said to her. The two of us headed to the stairs and found Rick at the base of them.

“I just got a link from one of our patrols. Andrew and Tyler are at the north border. They were following one of George’s guys. I told our team to work with them. This guy could lead us to Marcus and Eleanor.” Rick rambled out. “But that means George …”

“s**t!” I turned back to the bedroom.

“What?” Riley said, looking between us.

“He left Ridgeline over an hour ago. It’s a two-hour drive. We’ve got to get Claire out of her before he gets back.” He explained as I went into the bedroom and started dumping stuff into the suitcase.

“Help him,” Riley said to Rick. I couldn’t hear what they said next. Rick was in the room a moment later, grabbing another bag and dumping stuff into.

“Where’d Riley go?” I asked. Rick didn’t say anything. “Rick,” I grabbed his arm. “Where is Riley?” I practically growled.

Rick let out a sigh. “The basement. She said the council should know about his little dungeon. It will help us to unseat him. She’s not wrong, Ben. She’s gone to photograph it and your mother’s wounds before they heal.” Rick gave me a pat on the shoulder before continuing with his packing.

“I linked Sam to bring his van over. He’s on his way. We need to get back to the packhouse and figure out our next steps.” He said. I snapped out of my daze and finished packing up with him. We clamored down the stairs with the luggage and found Riley, helping my mother up off the couch.

“Sam’s here,” she said. “Time to go.” She looked at my mother.

Katherine came in and helped Riley walk my mother to the van, while Rick and I gathered up her luggage and tossed it in the back. I was starting to get into the van when Rick grabbed my arm.

“You guys go ahead,” he said. “We need to make a stop first.”

I didn’t question Rick. I knew he had his reasons. “Use the back entrance and take her to my suite.” I instructed. I gave Riley’s hand a squeeze before closing the door.

The van peeled away. “Where are we stopping?” I asked.

“Henry’s.” Rick said, starting to walk toward his house.

“Why?”

“Claire said George thought Henry and Claire were … a little too close.” He said and started walking toward Henry’s house. “George told her that he knew Claire and Henry were working together against him. He threw her down the stairs and demanded she confess.”

“Demanded?” I questioned on a growl. “I know how he demands.”

“Focus,” Rick said sternly. “She told him he was wrong, that they were having an affair, not conspiring against him politically. She didn’t know if he believed her, but he beat her pretty good after that and left her chained up in the basement since late last night.”

The growl I leveled drew attention from people on their porches. Rick grabbed my arm firmly. “Focus.” He hissed. “There will be plenty of time for rage later.”

Rick and I mounted the steps of Henry’s home and knocked on the door. He answered it a moment later. “You and Emma should come with us.” I said without any preamble. “Now.”

Henry swallowed. “What’s happened?”

“Henry, please. It’s for your safety. For Emma’s.” Rick said. Henry nodded and let us in.

“Uncle Rick!” Emma squealed as she ran toward him. Rick scooped her up in his arms with a smile.

“How would you like to have a sleepover with me at the packhouse?” Rick asked. “You and your Uncle Henry? Does that sound like fun?” Emma nodded enthusiastically. “How about we play a game before we go,” Rick put her down on knelt next to her. “When I count to three, I need you to run upstairs as fast as you can and pack as much of your clothes in a bag as you possibly can as fast as you can. We’ll see who packs faster, you and me or Uncle Ben and Uncle Henry. Ready?”

Emma was giggling and excited as she posed like she was about to start a race. Rick counted her down, and the pair of them went streaking up the stairs and into her room.

“What’s happened?” Henry demanded.

“My mother wouldn’t give you up.” I said plainly.

“What? Is she …”

“She’s on her way to the packhouse.” I cut in. “While she wouldn’t give you up as a spy, she did tell him you two were having an affair. So, you might want to go pack. He’ll be back in the territory in the next thirty minutes … if we’re lucky. Less if we’re not.” Henry hurried up the stairs. I followed him and helped him pack as much as he could. We grabbed their bags, Rick carried Emma, and we headed off to the packhouse.