Lessons in Love

Chapter 56: Life and Death

POV: Delta Rick Wallis

“Sleeping pills. A lot of them.” She said. “Everything on the bar cart was dosed with something. Mostly sleeping pills, but something had wolfsbane in it. You’d have to ask Sam. The gin, maybe?”

“Gin is my favorite.” I admitted. “Whoever spiked the cart knew that about me. They were trying to kill me.”

“And make it look like a suicide.” She said softly. “Ben found a note with the photographs.” There was a sadness in her voice as she said it. I looked down at him, understanding now why he wouldn’t let go of me. A part of him, on some level, must have thought it true. I took a steadying breath, remembering how I had felt all those years ago when he’d tried to slit his wrist. I knew the pain and fear he had to have felt today, that he was probably still feeling.

I cleared my throat loudly, hoping he’d wake up. “You know a lot about mythology, right?” I changed the subject, looking back at her.

“I know some,” she shrugged. “Why?”

“I …” I didn’t know how to explain it and the memory of Smokey up on the ridge was fading like a dream. “Is there something about rabbits? Catching a rabbit or chasing one?”

“Uh …” she thought for a moment. “In our mythology? None that I can think of. Why do you ask?”

“A weird dream I had,” I shrugged.

The grip on my wrist tightened and Ben shifted. He sat up and wiped a tired hand down his face, looking over at me. The grip tightened further, and I felt a tremor run through his hand. The relief on his face was so instantaneous, I thought, and got choked up at the sight of him.

“Riley,” Claire announced from the couch. “I’m quite ready for bed. Do you think you could walk me back to the suite? I’ll take care of Emma for you if you want to come back after.” I caught Claire’s eye and knew she was saying that to give Ben and I some privacy. I gave her a slight smile in appreciation. Riley was not stupid. She knew what Claire was getting at. She wasn’t offended by it either. She gave me a hug before circling the bed to run her fingers through Ben’s hair and kiss his forehead. She collected Emma and the three of them left.

I stared at the door for a moment, unsure where to start. I felt Ben’s fingers twitch around my wrist again and noticed how two of his fingers were firmly planted over the vein. He’d had his hand on my pulse from the time he walked in here.

“I wasn’t trying to kill …”

“I know.” His hand loosened as he let out a pent-up breath. He didn’t know, I thought, and the relief on his face made that evident.

“I panicked.” I whispered, looking down at the blanket over my lap. “I just …” the tears were back and all I could think was how much I’d hurt him. How much I was hurting Smokey.

Ben let go of my wrist and got up. He sat down on the bed next to me. “Is that how you handle panicking?” He asked softly.

“No,” I said, making eye contact. “No, not usually.”

“But sometimes?” He pushed gently.

I opened my mouth to lie to him, but the absolute devastation on his face made me close my mouth and simply nod at him. I blinked back the tears while I still could. “Sometimes,” my voice sounded strangled as I tried to explain. “I just want it to stop.” I looked at him, feeling the weight of my words. “I see it,” the tears fell. “I see it or hear it and I can’t turn it off.” I choked on the words. Ben’s eyes looked as tearful as mine as he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me into a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed into his shoulder. Ben didn’t say anything. “How do you do it?” I asked, trying to pull back from him.

Ben’s grip got tighter around me. “You.” He said, and I heard the tears in his voice. “I’ve always leaned on you. You’ve always taken care of me.” His voice shook. “It’s your turn to lean on me now. You need to trust me again.” There was conviction in his voice, even if his emotions were getting the better of him.

Smokey had said that too, to trust him again. The relationship between Ben and I had never been one-sided. We had always confided in each other. When my father died, Ben had done exactly this. I had shut down, not facing the grief I had so clearly felt. He had sat in my parents’ shed for hours waiting for me. I had stumbled in there a little drunk and a lot upset to find him sitting on a bench like he had when we were children. When I had asked what he was doing there, all he had said was, “I came to patch you up.”

I had sat down on the bench next to him and wept. He had put his arm around me and just sat there until I couldn’t cry anymore. We had sat there all through the next day as I talked about my father. I needed the push then and clearly needed it now.

This was different somehow. What happened in that gym was so much more violent than how my father died. I knew then that I couldn’t have changed what happened to my father, right from the moment it had happened. That is not at all how I felt about the gym.

“I can’t,” I sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

“Yes, you can.” He said gently. I shook my head against his shoulder. “Rick, you don’t have to tell me what is upsetting you to tell me that you’re upset. If you’re panicking, then I will sit there with you until you’re done panicking. I’m not going to make you tell me. I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready. Co-alphas, remember?”

The comfort that gave me was unparalleled. I suddenly felt like I could breathe again, even though I continued to sob into his shoulder. I was a snotty, hiccupping mess by the time he let me pull away from him. His eyes were rimmed red, and his face was as splotchy as mine must have been. I blew my nose and flopped back on the pillows with a heavy sigh. Ben got up and adjusted the back of the other bed, so it was more upright, before climbing on it and stretching out.

“You don’t have to stay the whole night.” I said, wiping my nose again.

“I can’t leave.” He replied sheepishly. “I can’t explain it either, so don’t ask. I just … can’t leave.”

Ash won’t allow it, I thought absently. Just like Smokey had said. I looked over at Ben. His eyes were closed as he sat on the bed with his back against the pillows. “Did I die?” I asked quietly.

Ben’s eyes opened, but he didn’t look at me. “Why do you want to know?” He asked, staring blankly across the room.

“I saw Smokey,” I said. That brought Ben’s head around, his eyes wide with shock. “I talked to him. It’s fuzzy now, but he said Ash wouldn’t allow me to die and that I needed to catch a rabbit … no, the rabbit. Like I’m supposed to find a specific one. And something about a grenade.” I scratched my head.

“A grenade?”

I snickered and nodded. “Maybe it’s a name? Maybe it’s Sam?” I suggested. “We made him an officer. Maybe it has something to do with him.” I shrugged.

“Could be,” Ben mused, a smile drifting across his face. “Maybe it’s Riley.” He snickered, and I had to chuckle at the thought that Riley’s wolf would have such a name.

We often named our wolves as children. It was an old tradition that not everyone followed anymore. It was said our ancestors had been able to freely talk with their wolves, though no one knows when or why that stopped. Some theorized that because our wolves’ souls had seen so much, the knowledge they could give us might adversely affect us. Others thought it was natural evolution; that the development of the mind-link had made it unnecessary for our wolves to communicate for and with us.

Honestly, until I was standing on that ridge staring at Smokey, I hadn’t really believed the old legends about getting to say goodbye to your wolf as you die. “Whichever of them chose it, it’s a badass name.” I said, smiling at him.

“The rabbit, though?” Ben questioned. “You have to catch the rabbit.” He said, like it was a secret code he was trying to figure out.

“He said I …” I stopped myself. “There’s something I have to do before I can catch the rabbit.” I said, picking at the blanket again.

“What did he ask you to do?”

“It wasn’t a request, really. It was more like a warning. It was like, in order to catch the rabbit, I have to do X.” I explained cautiously.

“Okay, so what’s X?” Ben said, like it was a simple thing to explain. I shook my head. “Is it something bad? Illegal?” He asked, reading my apprehension.

“No,” I shook my head again. “No, it’s just something I have to do alone, and I don’t know that I can. It seemed urgent to him that I do it. But,” I sighed. “I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” I said miserably.

“You don’t have to do anything alone. Not ever.” Ben said sternly. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together.” I gave him a nod, but a part of me didn’t believe anyone was going to be able to help me forgive myself for what happened in the gym.

“You don’t have to, but do you want to tell me what he said you had to do?” Ben asked gently. I shook my head. “That’s okay.” He said, and I looked at him to see that he was being sincere. He wasn’t going to force me to tell him. In a way, that made me feel worse about not telling him.

I opened my mouth and shut it again. “Ben, I …”

“Tell me tomorrow.” He said, resting back against the pillows. “Get some more sleep, and we talk about it tomorrow.” I got settled into the bed, pulling the blankets up and curling on my side. I looked over at Ben lounging in the other bed. His hands folded neatly in his lap, his head back, and his eyes closed. He probably wasn’t going to sleep, but he was giving me the space to.

“Thank you, Ben.” I whispered.

Ben shrugged. “Co-alphas, right?” A smile crept across his face.

“Co-alphas.” I replied. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.