Loving Ashlynn (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 53 - Robert Delaney (Ansel Conrad POV) Pt. 4

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Chapter 53 – Robert Delaney (Ansel Conrad POV) Pt. 4

Six hours later, a few details in place, supplies ordered, we drive up the crushed granite driveway that is worn and old, nature taking over. When we come to a stop, my fathers brother is already on the porch, waiting.

Dad and I are the first to leave the bus, in fact I had asked that everyone remain on it because I wanted to vet each person individually but first, I wanted to speak with my father's brother – Foster.

Jogging up to the porch, Fosters breath is seen in the cold air. I let my father approach him first, getting their greetings out of the way, let the teasing go on before we get to the seriousness of my Den's arrival in Rawlins Wyoming.

"Come in – come in guys," Foster hurries us in, his voice low and rough. Scratchy.

"Why aren't the others coming?" he asks while dad and I wipe the bottoms of our shoes on the entrance rugs. "This is not a pleasure vacation," my father answers, waiting for Foster to close the door.

A few more wrinkles than my father, Foster was the same silver fox that my father was. Mustache and hair line gray.

Dad and I follow Foster to the living room. Eight-foot pine tree decorated with brightly wrapped gifts placed under. It dawns on me that this just might be the first Christmas that Lenah and I do not spend with our children.

I inhale deeply, filling my nose with a rich pine and vanilla aroma.

"What's going on guys?" Foster asks just as Morgana – his wife – enters the room. Strawberry blonde hair shoulder length in the front and longer in the back, she enters the room in an old ratty shirt and black yoga pants.

"Hey guys," she comes over, greeting dad and I before turning around, "where is everyone?" she questions perplexed.

"Outside," I give my one word answer. Morgana slowly sits down next to Foster, one leg underneath her, the other crossed over it.

Never would I settle down in such close proximity to Colorado, where Alpha Monet treated his pack as slaves to do with whatever he pleased. Yet, Foster and Morgana had done just that. Sticking to a small town, where Foster was the general dentist and Morgana a certified registered nurse anesthetists.

I open my mouth; ready to divulge partial truths, but decide to start the safest way I could think.

It would kill me to do to Foster and Morgana what I did to Berty, but I would. Reaching behind my back, heart racing, I speak. "Who is Robert Delaney?" I ask feeling the Glock against my back.

"It will be quick. When the question is asked, it is like the air they breathe, they will spit out the riddle," Naomi had coached. Hyperaware when two seconds pass and they only frown in confusion, my shoulders sag and the hand that was primed to pull out the Glock, I run it through my hair. Gripping my hair, I'm close to pulling out chunks of hair, hair follicles and all.

"Who is Robert Delaney? Is – has he moved to Rawlins recently?" Morgana asks, us, eyes shifting from dad, to Foster, back to me. They aren't working with the Elders, just stupid to live two hours from Colorado, I think relieved.

I'm not sure informing Foster and Morgana would even be useful come to think about it. They're going to remain put, live life as humans until eventually they'd be forced to move since Foster and Morgana had stopped aging and it would become noticeable in two to four years.