Chapter 8: Plane Ticket

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Chapter 8

Plane Ticket

 

Brock didn’t come home. I open the door to Stephen’s room. Everything still sat in its place, untouched, waiting for me when my little boy came home. I picked up one of his blankets and refolded it. My stomach started to grow, and with a sight, I guess it was time to give into it. After setting the blanket on the pile, I went downstairs.

The table knocked over and broken dishes were scattered about the floor. I grabbed the broom and started sweeping up the mess. I put the table back on it’s leg and scooted the chairs out of the way.

Grabbing the dustpan, I started swiping the pieces into it. It took three trips to get it all. Taking a wash rag, I knelt and started scrubbing the dried on food off the tile.

“Aw!” I sat back on my heels and held my wrist. A shard of glass stuck out of my palm. Blood was running down my arm toward my elbow.

The door closed, and I looked over my shoulder.

Brock appeared and leaned against the wall. “What did you do?”

“Piece of glass,” I whispered.

He walked over and helped me to my feet. Lifting me onto the counter, he examined the cut. His claws extended from his fingers, and he carefully pulled out the shard. He licked my palm until the wound sealed. Brock tossed the piece into the garbage and grabbed some paper towels. He doused them in water before returning. I just sat quietly as he cleaned away the blood.

Once finished, he ran a hand threw my hair and ended at my cheek. “You’re mine,” he said softly. “You’ll always be mine.”

I nodded and put my arms around his shoulder. “I know,” I whispered, laying my head on his shoulder.

He hugged me tightly. “We’ll get him back. Whatever it takes, we’ll get him back.”

 

***

 

Two weeks without my baby. The house had never been cleaner. I was in the process of putting away dishes that I had re-washed when Brock came home. He sat down at the table and took his tablet out of his bag.

I grabbed the usual beers and headed over to him. “Dinner needs another fifteen minutes.”

“Hmmm…” He didn’t look at me.

“I made a ham with potato and carrots, just how you like it.”

“Hmmm….”

I went back to the sink and continued to organize the cupboards. The room was quiet until the oven buzzer went off. I checked it to find that it was ready and took out the pan. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed that Brock hadn’t moved. He was still scrolling through something on his tablet.

Grabbing the plates and cup, I set the table and laid down some hot pads. I brought over the food and sat beside my mate and waited. He still hadn’t looked up.

“It’s ready,” I whispered.

“I know.”

I sighed and dished myself a small portion of the meat.

“More,” muttered Brock, he peeked at me for a second.

I did as he asked. We went shopping the other day, and two people had asked if I had lost weight. I guess it was more embarrassing for him than he would admit.

My plate was nearly empty by the time Brock started. He still multitasked as he ate. I finished and picked up my things to put in the sink. As I walked past, I stopped and read the listing.

“Why are you looking up plane tickets?”

Brock flipped the protective cover over the screen. “Go upstairs and get cleaned up.”

I stood there for a moment. “Are you leavin…”

“Now, Vincent.” He turned forward and shifted his body so I couldn’t see the screen.

After dropping off my plate in the sink, I hurried upstairs. I went to the bathroom and dropped to my knees. He was leaving? It was a business trip. It had to be a business trip, but Brock wouldn’t hid a business trip. Hell, most the time he took me with him, because he was so paranoid about me being home alone.

I laid my head on the side of the tub and took deep breaths. Brock was really going to leave me. I was going to throw up. My stomach was turning. I couldn’t move. I was barely holding it together and couldn’t risk it.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs. I turned my face away from the doorway and did everything I could think of to focus myself to calm down.

“Vinny?”

“Just a minute,” I piped.

The bathroom door was pushed open.

“Vinny, what are you doing?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

A hand touched my shoulder, and I felt him sit down behind me.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re leaving me,” I whispered. My eyes started to burn. “You’re going rogue. You’re leaving me here.” I broke and the tears started to fall.

“I’m not leaving you.” He pulled me into his lap and held me to his chest. “I’ve told you over and over that you’re mine. I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

“Then why?” I whispered.

“You’re just going to have to trust me for now. Alright?”

I nodded. Sitting up, I kissed him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Brock slipped my shirt off. “Shift for me.”

Rising to my knees, I pushed my pants and underwear down before shifting, and maneuvered my clothes the rest of the way off. Brock stood and took off his. Even in human form he was still larger than me. We settled into the tub and Brock turned on the water. I laid between his legs as my mate ran his hand through my fur. He gave me a squeeze and kissed my head.

I closed my eyes and curled into him. I lost Stephen; I couldn’t handle losing him too.

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