His Daddy’s Fated Mate

20: Hideout

Liam’s POV

"Dad, you there?" Tucker said through the mind-link just when I came down from my high my hand was still around my hard d**k. f**k.

"Yes yes. I'll be down in a sec." I murmur in the best gruff voice I could muster though I don't have to use my voice. s**t, this is the worst timing ever.

Hastily standing up from the bed, I quickly changed my sweatpants since the other one was ruined. I thoroughly washed my hand so he won't smell the whole thing then add whiskey just to make the process much easier. f**k, I didn't expect Tucker to stop by the mansion. At least not today since he knew I was mourning. Or doesn't he know that? Isn't he supposed to be mourning his mother too?

I stepped out of the room and made my way down the stairs to the living room where the mind-link is directing me towards. The dim light revealed Tucker, shoulders slouched, staring into the amber liquid in his glass. The air seemed heavy with grief and uncertainty. Even from behind I know he looks very disheveled and he misses his mother a lot. We all do.

Every single person in this pack misses Jane because there is no way they couldn't. She is like a piece of us all here and now that she is gone, we don't know how to cope with life without her.

"Hey, Tucker," I said softly, approaching with a reassuring smile to keep the parent in me. "I'm here. How are you holding up, buddy?"

He met my gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and fatigue. I have never seen his eyes so haunted and empty my entire life. Nothing ever moves Tucker. He is so focused on becoming the perfect alpha in the future that he sometimes forgets to live like a twenty two year old. I had to scold him most of the time to go out there and have fun. His title will come no matter what.

"It's just... everything, Dad. I needed to be here, with you. I don't know where else to go since they all don't understand and I haven't gotten ahold of Taylor since the funeral." He explained, gulping down the amber drink in his glass in one go. Yup, he wants to get drunk.

I'd tell him that isn't the best idea after what happened yesterday between Hannah and I but I kept my lips shield. I mean, he is young and is allowed to do whatever the f**k he wants. Besides, he's got a mate so there is no way he is going to make that mistake. It's all me. I couldn't control myself around a twenty two year old.

I couldn't control my forty two year old libido. Yeah, it's truly disgusting now that I'm thinking about it. I nodded, understanding the unspoken pain that connected us.

"I'm here for you, son" I assured him, taking a seat beside him at the bar.

The silence lingered, filled only by the distant sounds of the mansion as maids work tirelessly. I don't know how they are going to cope without Jane’s guidance with the house chores and all. I cannot do that because I don't know s**t about household stuff. That is all left for her because she enjoys doing that.

As he took another sip of whiskey, I pondered the complexities of grief, realizing that we each processed it differently. I placed a hand on his shoulder, offering comfort without words. Sometimes, silence spoke louder than any condolence. We both need each other at this moment. It is so fragile and breakable. These bonds we all share.

"Dad, I... I don't know how to deal with all of this. It's so hard knowing she won't be here when I stop by. Neither will she be able to cook for us." Tucker admitted, his voice cracking at the end as he sniffled.

I sighed, grappling with my own emotions because I know I cannot lose it in front of him. One of us has to be the bigger person, the pillar and the one they turn to for comfort. That person has to be me now that Jane won't be able to fill half the space.

"None of us do, Tuck. Losing your mother is a wound that takes time to heal. We'll navigate through it together." I say knowing Jane would have said the same exact thing.

In that solemn moment, the heaviness of grief lingered like an unspoken presence, casting a palpable shadow over the room. I found myself grappling with an overwhelming desire for a more straightforward path to navigate the intricate web of emotions enveloping my son. He has never been so worn with emotions.

As I sat beside Tucker at the bar, the gravity of the situation bore down on me, amplifying the responsibility I felt as a father. The air was thick with unspoken words, and I wished for a magic formula or a guidebook that could ease the anguish etched across his face. He was much closer to Jane while she was battling with this illness.

My gaze fixed on the amber hues of the whiskey in his glass, a symbolic elixir attempting to drown the sorrows that no spirit could truly alleviate. The complexities of grief seemed to defy any simple solution, and my heart ached for Tuck, who was grappling with the weight of loss. Great loss.

That moment of vulnerability, I yearned for a more direct way to support him, to shield him from the emotions that comes with mourning. The inadequacy of my gruff voice and well-intentioned gestures became glaringly apparent. If only there were a roadmap to navigate the tumultuous journey of grief, a way to ensure that my son emerged from this darkness with a mended heart.

Yet, as I reflected on the shared pain we both carried, I understood that grief had its own timeline, its own rhythm that couldn't be rushed or neatly organized. The longing for simplicity clashed with the messy reality of mourning, and I grappled with the uncertainty of how to guide Tucker through this challenging chapter of our lives.

In the midst of this internal struggle, I took a deep breath, silently vowing to be a steadfast presence for my son and daughter who is hiding somewhere, even if I couldn't provide the simplicity I yearned for. Together, we would navigate the unpredictable waves of grief, finding strength in our shared journey and the unbreakable bond that held us together.

I poured myself a glass of scotch, the clink of the ice cubes echoing in the stillness. We sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in our thoughts. The room held memories of happier times, but now it felt like a sanctuary for shared sorrow. Had she been alive, she would have collected the glasses from us and told us it was too early for a drink. A typical mother hen.

After a moment, Tucker spoke, his words heavy with emotion. "I just miss her so much, Dad. It's like a part of me is gone."

I nodded, acknowledging the depth of his pain. "I miss her too, Tucker. She was an incredible woman, and her presence is irreplaceable."

As we talked, memories of her laughter, warmth, and love filled the room. It was bittersweet, a reminder of the void left behind. We shared stories, finding solace in reminiscing about the beautiful moments we had with her. There is no bad memory when it comes to Jane. Even when she is scolding and chiding, there is something light about the way she does it.

The mind-link between us allowed for a unique form of communication. Without uttering a word, we exchanged feelings, thoughts, and the unspoken understanding that we were not alone in our grief. We had each other. Taylor will join us at some point because she knows her twin brother would be here having a drink with me if he isn't with his mate.

As the night wore on, the weight on Tuckers shoulders seemed to lighten, if only slightly. We found comfort in the shared silence, the bond between father and son deepening in the face of loss. Sometimes all you need is a little push. Our relationship has been strained lately because we were both busy. Now we know we only had one another.

Eventually, I suggested, "How about we take a walk outside? The fresh air might do us good."

Tucker nodded, and together, we ventured into the night, seeking solace under the star-lit sky. In the midst of mourning, we discovered the strength that comes from facing grief together, finding hope in the shared journey of healing.

"She really wanted to witness the wedding, you know?" I said to Tucker as we walked deeper into the woods.

"I know. She's told me that countless times though she said she felt something was off." Tucker shook his head with an uneasy chuckle that came out louder than he wanted I'm sure.

Jane told me there was something off about Naomi and Tucker the first time he introduced her as his mate right after Hannah had run away. I didn't see it at first before they were so into one another but then I started seeing the lack of connection between the duo and connected the dots. Something does seem off indeed.

As we continued to discuss the wedding, voices deep inside the woods reached my ears. I turn to Tucker to check if he has heard but it seems like he hasn't. I always knew I had a great sense of hearing, way better than any I have ever met. Even my olfactory senses and vision excelled. So I listened with nonchalance on my face though the sound of Hannah’s voice awoke an angry feeling buried in my chest. The f*****g seductress.

"Tay, I need to tell you something." Said Hannah hesitantly.

And the other person she was talking to was none other than my daughter and her best friend, Taylor. "What's going on, Hans?"

"I won't be going back to the human world." Hannah said with so much bitterness that made me pause. Well, I shouldn't be surprised.

"What? Why?"

"I... I committed a crime. A stupid mistake that shouldn't have happened. Something serious. The Alpha is punishing me for that by keeping me here till further notice."

"He has no right to do that! He's my dad and knows you are my best friend! He doesn't have any right to f*****g do that! Come on, we grew up together. You are like his daughter too."

Uh oh. Nope. Hannah is definitely not like a f*****g daughter to me. Not when I am starting to get attracted to her freaking young body and soft moans as she wiggled in my arms. No, I'm not thinking about Taylor that way but Hannah? A different story.

"Tay, please. It's done. Don't talk to him about it and make it worse. My parents agreed I should be punished too."

"I'm talking to him. This isn't fair."

"No, Tay. It's done. Talking won't change anything. It'll only make it worse."

"Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help. Sneak you out when you are ready or something." Taylor insisted.

I was actually waiting for Hannah to start something but she didn't. My threat has worked then. My daughter shouldn't know what has happened between us until we find a solution that could get us both out of this disaster. I hate being in this situation as much as she does or maybe even more. There are no other options out there for us to look into.

"I can't. Just understand that I messed up, and I have to face the consequences—"

I was cut off from listening to the rest of their conversation when Tucker said. "Dad, I can take it from here. I'll look for Taylor and you should go back and get some rest. You need it."

I gave him a nod and did as he said, turning to go back to the mansion knowing he is trying to hide their little hideout from me. How could they think I don't know about that safe haven? I found it way before they were both born. Before I became an alpha.