Filed to story: Secret Shifters Next Door Series PDF Free
Blayne frowned. “Well, I’m not entirely sure. None of the other guys had their mate reject them. I’m thinking it’s probably similar to shifter mating. I ask you to be my mate, you reject me, then the bond is broken. That’s what I think, anyway.”
A conversation I’d had with Liam a long time ago emerged, drifting up through memories. Once I’d found out what he was, I’d been curious about all aspects of what being a shifter was like. One of those discussions had been about the mating process.
“Won’t this hurt you? Liam told me once that when a mating bond is broken—if they break up or if a mate dies—it can be both mentally
and physically painful. Is that true?”
He nodded and shrugged like he wasn’t bothered. “It will. It’ll hurt like hell. But everyone is different. For some people, it’s over in an hour. For others, it lingers for days or weeks. Either way, I can take it. Small price to pay to be rid of this curse.”
“Well, should we just do it now?” I asked.
Blayne’s eyes widened and he glanced around at all the people in the coffee shop. He held up a hand for me to slow down. “Let’s do it tonight. I’ll come over to your place. I don’t really want to writhe on the ground or scream in agony in a public place. That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
He tossed his empty coffee cup into a trash can beside the table and stood to leave. Before he got far, I said, “You’re sure about this, right?”
Blayne nodded and looked into my eyes. “Fate isn’t always right. I shouldn’t have trusted it to finally bring me happiness. All it ever brings me is disappointment.”
Without another word, he turned and marched out of the café.
I finished my drink, mulling over everything he’d told me. The words hung over me all morning, even when I picked up my father to take him to his first chemo treatment.
Uncle Sam was there when I picked him up. After my dad hugged me, he got into the passenger side. Sam pulled me to him and pressed his lips against my ear. “Keep him positive. We all know he doesn’t want to do this.”
I nodded and patted Sam’s arm. “Got it. We’ll be fine.”
On the drive to the clinic, Dad talked about anything and everything except the treatment he was about to endure. It was clearly his coping mechanism. Wanting to help keep his mind off it, I spent the entire ride giving random “yeah” and “yup” answers as I focused on keeping the car on the road and Blayne’s revelation.
The treatment took over an hour, and Dad refused to let me sit with him. He was probably afraid for me to see him in such a vulnerable situation. Reluctantly, I agreed and sat in the waiting room, stewing on the whole curse thing Blayne had dumped on me.
When Dad came out, it was the first time all morning that Blayne vanished from my mind. He looked terribly pale, and fine sheen of sweat covered his brow as he winced with every step.
“Dad, are you okay?” I asked.
He shook his head and waved off my concern. The nurse who’d escorted him gave me a sad smile. “It’s his first session. I think it hit him fairly fast. Take this with you, I’m afraid he may need it.” She handed me a plastic, kidney-shaped emesis basin.
I gaped at it, but took it after a moment’s hesitation. “Uh, thanks,” I mumbled.
“We already have his next session scheduled. He’ll come back next week at the same time, and then he’ll get a week off. See
you then, Mr. Francis,” the nurse said, aiming a reassuring grin at my father.
Dad nodded absently as he clung onto my arm. “Let’s go home. I want a nap.”
I led him outside and had him half into the car when he jerked to a stop and turned to vomit all over the pavement. I had never seen my father throw up, so it was both surprising and worrying. He leaned over, hands on knees, grunting with effort. Not knowing what else to do, I stepped over and rubbed his back while I dug some tissues out of my purse.
Once he managed to straighten back up, he spit a few times, then wadded the tissues up and wiped at his mouth. Without another word, he got into the car. I jumped into the driver seat and started the car before he could get sick again. Dad sat beside me, resting his head against the headrest.
Throughout the drive, I kept glancing between him and the road. Twice, he made retching sounds but managed to control himself. He flinched and huffed angrily each time, as though he was pissed that his body was betraying him. Sweat trickled down his cheeks, and he wiped at his face every few minutes.
“Baby, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this. I’m not going back if this is how it feels after one treatment.”
“Dad, it’ll all be worth it if it saves your life, right?” I said, trying to infuse as much confidence into my voice as I could.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I…” His voice caught. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
Tears burned the back of my eyes, and I thanked God I had to look at the road. If Dad had seen me like that, it might have started him crying, and I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. I hated seeing him like this. Hated that he had cancer. It was the worst thing that had happened in the years since my mother died, since Liam died. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, the pain keeping the tears from spilling over.
Thankfully, the house came into sight. I turned into the driveway and drove through the automatic wrought-iron gate. Uncle Sam, Mike, and Luis were all standing on the front porch.
As soon as I put the car into park, Dad opened his door and got out. He flung the emesis basin across the driveway and stomped inside, slamming the door behind him.
Sam came over and opened my door for me. “He doesn’t look good, kiddo. How’d it go?”
All I could do was shake my head, a hand to my mouth as I fought back tears.
Mike came to my side and put an arm around me. “It’ll be okay, Ava. He’s a strong son of a bitch. Always has been.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to watch him go through this. It’s already hard, and this was just the first session.”