Across The Line. Amy Lee Burgess
shushed him by sitting in an arm chair and giving him her breast.
Paralyzed, I couldn’t turn my head to look at Murphy. I wanted to see his face, but couldn’t move.
“Stanzie, if you can’t stop stinking up this room with your fear, can you please go somewhere else?” Fee glared at me. I couldn’t see her face, but the burning wrath of her gaze was hot on my cheek. “What the hell are you scared for anyway?”
“The pack bond, Fee,” Murphy reminded her. He stressed her name as if to jog her memory. Maybe it was a reproach too because she sucked in her breath as if struck.
“For fuck’s sake,” she snarled. “We don’t have time for your petty little fears right now. Get over it. A pack bond won’t hurt your precious wolf and you know it. Why can’t you sympathize with me and what I’ve got to go through instead of wallowing in your own self-pity?”
“I’ve been wallowing in yours for three months. Do you suppose I could have two minutes for myself?” The words rushed from my mouth before I could take them back.
Again I told myself she was grieving. She’d lost Paddy. Sick to my stomach, I remembered what it was like to lose Grey and Elena.
Shocked silence for a beat, then Fee burst into ugly tears. Will howled and Murphy cursed beneath his breath.
Tears pricked my eyes. Poor Murphy. I’d made his night even harder because now it would take much longer to talk Fee around. I was such an idiot. Fee was right. I had no time for self-pity or fear. I needed to suck it up and deal. The pack bond would supposedly help everyone. I had no idea how because I thought they were devices from hell, but I was a member of Mac Tire and if they took a pack bond, so would I.
My lips trembled and I leaped to my feet, brushing away the hand Murphy stretched out to me. He didn’t have time to deal with me too. He needed to concentrate on Fee.
“I’m sorry, Fee.” My voice was choked. “I’m sorry.”
She refused to look at me and buried her face in Will’s sweet-smelling hair. I retreated to the bedroom and curled up on the bed.
* * * *
“Want to talk about it?”
I jerked in the bed and rolled over to see Murphy assembling Will’s portable crib. He’d switched on the desk lamp and the yellow light spilled across his tired face as he worked.
I must have dozed. A glance at the clock on the nightstand revealed it was the middle of the night. Nearly one o’clock.
“Fee?” I whispered.
“Sleeping in the chair finally,” he answered. “I’ll carry her in after I settle the baby.”
“I’ll get him.” I slid to the edge of the bed and rubbed my sleep-encrusted eyes.
“Will you be all right? Colm’s determined to do this thing tomorrow. I called him and couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Five minutes of impassioned screaming. In stereo. One ear was him, the other Fee.”
“I must have slept through it.” I yawned guiltily.
He cast me an amused look, but he looked so damn worn out. “Good for you.”
He finished setting up the crib and turned toward me. “Will’s in his car seat and they can both sleep where they are for now if you want to talk.”
“What about?” I tried to find a brave smile, but was fresh out of such luxuries.
Murphy scrubbed along the edge of his jaw. His fingers rasped against his beard stubble. When was the last time the poor man shaved? He’d verged past sexy stubble two days ago and was now closing in on unattractively prickly.
“Really, it’s the best thing for the pack,” he said. “All this fucking grief, we’re mired in it. We’re not moving forward. A pack bond will help.” His tone was wistful, as if he only half believed in his own bullshit.
I swallowed hard and slid off the bed. I wanted to talk to him in the worst way, but it wasn’t fair. It was one o’clock in the morning and he was flat-out exhausted.
“I believe you,” I said, and his smile turned affectionate. He took a step toward me, as if he meant to hug me, but Will chose that moment to cry out. The poor thing disliked his car seat intensely.
“I’ll get him.” I darted out the door and across the living room floor to rescue him before he roused Fiona.
She was sprawled in the arm chair, still with her jacket on, blouse buttoned wrong. Tears had left shiny streaks across her cheeks and her sandy blond hair was lifeless and bedraggled around her shoulders. She looked so pathetically alone, tears rose in my eyes.
What the hell, Paddy? Why did he fucking have to die? Irrational anger bloomed within me. He was supposed to have given me the pack bond. I trusted him. I loved him. I didn’t know Colm O’Reilly and the thought of drinking his herb-infused blood sickened me. Terrified me.
I scooped Will from the car seat and bounced him against my shoulder, cradling his little head in my hand.
As soon as his face pressed against my skin, he quieted. Pack children needed touch. Hell, so did Pack adults.
Murphy lifted Fee’s limp body and moved ahead of me into the bedroom. He set her down gently on the bed while I placed an already sleeping Will in his crib. As I looked at him, he gave a hitching, little sigh that tore at my heartstrings. This little boy would never know his father. He’d hear stories and see pictures, but he’d never, ever know his father’s touch.
Anger bloomed inside me again and I beat it down. Pointless. Useless. What was done was done and now it was time to pick up the pieces and move on.
By the time I turned away from Will and the crib, Murphy was stretched across the bed next to Fee, sound asleep. He hadn’t even undressed or crawled beneath the covers.
I shook out a blanket and drew it over him. When I smoothed the back of my hand across his stubbly cheek, he murmured something in his sleep. My name. This time when tears choked me, I let them fall because no one else could see them but me.
Chapter 2
Fee’s hip bones protruded alarmingly above the waistband of her blue-and-white striped bikini panties. She wore a short blue robe, untied, over them. How had she gotten so thin?
Any weight she’d gained from her pregnancy had melted away and then some. She was so scrawny I probably could have pushed her over with one finger.
I rocked in the chair by the window. Murphy brought the rocker home one afternoon shortly after Will’s birth so Fee would have a place to nurse him in the middle of the night.
Will was in my arms, fussy and hungry, but freshly washed and changed. I’d bathed him while Fee showered. Halfway through Will’s bath in the kitchen sink, Murphy had returned from the store with a bag of groceries. He’d looked marginally less exhausted, and he’d shaved, but all the sleep in the world couldn’t erase the weight of the sorrow he carried.
“I’ll take him,” said Fee as she padded across the hardwood floor and tossed her damp towel across the unmade bed. Her sandy blond hair was wet against the side of her thin cheek, and she pushed it away impatiently.
“You can finish dressing,” I told her. Will was a barrier between me and the morning. As long as I could hold him, I didn’t have to get dressed and take the pack bond.
I’d woken with a sour, churning stomach and a dry mouth I’d tried to fix with chamomile tea, to no avail. Holding the baby helped. Small and frail, he was someone I could protect and keep safe. He’d need a sitter while Fee and the rest of the adult pack attended the hunt. Why couldn’t the sitter be me?
“Nah. I’d just have to take half it off again to feed him, wouldn’t I?” She gave me a lopsided smile which didn’t reach her greeny-gold eyes. I smiled back