Page 54 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Blake

T he water taxi idles at the dock, engine humming, its hull bumping the pilings. Kyle stays seated behind the wheel, waiting for my signal. Just in case.

I stand alone on the salty planks, hands shoved into my coat pockets. The spring air off the bay bites at my cheeks, but my palms are sweating. Behind me, the cart waits halfway up the hill, but my bondmates wait with Quinn at the Homestead.

We had agreed I’d meet my sister alone, but it feels like walking into a riptide without a tether.

Sadie steps off the ramp with the careful grace of a skittish deer. She’s thinner than the last time I saw her, the coat she wears hanging off her frame, but she appears healthier. The puffy flush of alcohol is gone from her cheeks, replaced by a hollowness that sharpens every line of her face.

A gray beanie covers the top of her head, with the brittle, bleach-blond strands braided to hang over one shoulder. When my sister stops in front of me, her brown eyes meet mine with a clarity I haven’t seen in a lifetime.

Shivering, she draws her jacket closer. “You gonna stand there and gawk, Blake? Or can I get a hello?”

A pulse of guilt spikes through me. I force a step forward, then another, until we’re face to face. My arms hang at my sides. I want to hug her, but I don’t know if she’s fragile enough to break, or if the gesture would spark a fuse.

Behind her, Mrs. Reynolds stands sentinel. The old housekeeper wears a navy windbreaker zipped to her chin and keeps her hands folded over a battered tote bag. She dips her chin in greeting.

Sadie notices my hesitation and huffs out a laugh. “You look good.” She studies my beard, the tattoos peeking out from under my sleeves, and her lips twitch. “Are you wearing a rainbow bracelet?”

My hands clench at the tone of her voice. “Quinn made it for me two years ago. She made you one, too, but it seems you don’t remember.”

She flinches at the jab. “Yeah, I guess not. There’s a lot I don’t remember.” Her eyes dart past me. “Is she here?”

“She’s waiting up at the Homestead.” I jerk my chin toward the waiting golf cart. “Holden made a late lunch, if you’re hungry.”

Sadie’s throat works. “She’s okay?”

“She’s more than okay. She’s happy.” Awkward silence fills the space between us before I clear my throat. “We should get going if you want to be back on the mainland before dusk.”

“Right.” Sadie squares her shoulders and strides forward.

I offer Mrs. Reynolds my arm for balance on the gravel path. “How have you been?”

“Still not fired, so I can’t complain,” she huffs.

“How’s she really doing?” I ask, my attention on Sadie’s back.

The old housekeeper purses her lips, wrinkles forming on her cheeks. “Haven’t caught her sucking on the alcohol swabs in the first aid kit, so I’ll call it a win, so far.”

The news makes me both happy and afraid to let optimism take root. It’s only been two weeks since she left rehab. She’s been sober for two weeks before.

We catch up to Sadie, who surveys the cabins, the piles of lumber and stone, and the work equipment. “Didn’t think you’d stick with this.”

“Why not?”

She shrugs, not looking at me. “Just something Dad said. Should have known better than to listen to him. Sorry.”

My jaw tightens. Dad hadn’t been thrilled when I separated to form a pack with Nathaniel, but he hadn’t criticized our plans for the resort. No, that had all come from Nathaniel’s father. I’m not even sure my dad is aware of the stipulation put into the contract for our loan if we fail.

She picks up a stick and throws it at a clump of wild grass. “He’s not coming, by the way.”

“I figured.” If he were, he would have ambushed Kyle at the docks and arrived with Sadie.

She turns to me. “You heard from him recently?”

I shake my head. “Not since the last visit at the rehab.”

Sadie nods as if she expected as much.

I gesture up the slope. “You want to walk or take the cart?”

She shoves her hands into her coat pockets. “Let’s walk. This is my first time here. Show me what you’ve been doing with your life, little brother.”

The request catches me off guard. It’s the first time she’s expressed an interest in my life outside of what I can do for her.

I fall in beside her, and Mrs. Reynolds falls back to bring up the rear. The three of us climb the gravel path, Sadie breathing harder the higher we go, a flush of exertion lending color to her cheeks, but she never asks for a rest.

I tell her about Nathaniel’s history on the island, our plans for the Resort, and point out the various walking paths as we pass. She nods along, huffing and puffing, but otherwise staying silent.

As we near the Homestead, Quinn’s bright squeal and Chloe’s soft hum drift down, along with the thump of Sprinkles’s tail beating a rhythm on the porch boards.

Sadie draws a slow breath. “How’s she doing with the transition of living away from the city?”

“She loves it here.” Pride fills me. “Last night, we ate a salmon she caught herself.”

“Ha.” Sadie’s eyes glisten. “I can’t imagine our old man ever taking us fishing.”

“No,” I agree.

Sadie smooths a hand over her frizzy braid. “Does she hate me? ”

“She loves you, but you’ve hurt her a lot,” I say, giving her honesty. “She’s got trauma that will need to be dealt with if we want her to grow up into a well-adjusted young woman.”

Sadie’s lips tremble. “Wonder what that looks like.”

“You still have time to find out,” I say gently. “You’re still young, yourself.”

Her tongue darts out to sweep over her cracked lips. “Some things don’t let you be young anymore.”

My stomach dips, but before I can ask what she means, she strides forward.

She stops at the bottom step and scans the porch. Quinn kneels next to Sprinkles, feeding him Holden’s homemade dog treats, oblivious to everything but the pup wagging his tail in front of her.

Chloe sits at one of the small, outdoor tables, knees drawn up under the dusky-purple knit blanket Dominic had given her for her nest, her pink hair glowing in the afternoon light.

The rest of our pack hovers around the borders of our designated meeting area, Nathaniel pretending to work on his tablet, Dominic stacking firewood, and Holden keeping an eye on things from the open kitchen window .

“You think she’ll come to me?” The question comes out raw.

“She’s your daughter,” I say, which isn’t an answer. I have no more clue about how Quinn will react to seeing her mother than Sadie does.

She stands frozen, shivering in the light breeze from the ocean. “You can go ahead. Let me do this part alone.”

I want to stay, but I understand. As I climb the steps, the weight of her eyes stays on my back the whole way. The porch boards creak under my weight, and I go to lean on the railing, heart pounding.

Sadie squares her shoulders and starts up the steps. Mrs. Reynolds follows a few paces behind, as if ready to catch my sister or to pull her back.

Quinn spots her mom at the last second and freezes, a dog treat in one hand, mouth working, but no sound coming out.

Sadie stops on the top step, and she shifts her weight, as if she might bolt instead. “Hi, Quinn.”

“Hi, mommy.” Quinn’s fist clenches in Sprinkles’s ruff, and sensing her tension, his ears prick forward as his tail stops wagging.

“Can I get a hug?” Sadie tries, her hands trembling.

Quinn shakes her head .

Sadie swallows. “Fair enough. Maybe next time.”

Mrs. Reynolds puts a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

Sadie sinks to her knees, the movement stiff but deliberate, and braces both hands on her thighs. “Your Uncle Blake told me you still had Sprinkles here. We brought a new toy for him.”

Quinn doesn’t answer.

Mrs. Reynolds steps forward, producing a round pig from the battered tote bag she carries.

Quinn releases Sprinkles to step closer and take it. “It’s cute. Thank you.”

“It snorts when you squeeze it,” Sadie says.

Quinn dutifully hugs the toy, and a loud snort breaks the tension. Quinn giggles, and Sprinkles comes over to nose the toy until she throws it into the grass for the dog.

With a woof , he bounds down the stairs to grab it, and more snorts fill the air.

Sadie’s hand hovers near Quinn, uncertain, then falls back to her lap. “How have you been, kiddo?”

“I love it here. I’m a member of Uncle Blake’s pack.” She turns desperate eyes on me. “He said so.”

"Yes, you are," I reassure her.

“I understand,” Sadie says, and the ball of dread in my gut starts to loosen. “They take good care of you?”

“The best.” Quinn’s shoes scuff the porch, the rubber soles leaving twin marks on the boards. “Are you still sick?”

Sadie’s throat works. “Yeah, I am. I’m trying to get better, but this kind of sickness isn’t one that gets cured and goes away. It’s something I’ll need to work on for the rest of my life.”

Quinn looks at me with uncertainty.

“She’s doing the work to heal,” I say. “That’s why she’s here.”

Quinn’s mouth pulls sideways. “Are you going to leave again?”

Sadie shrinks, shoulders folding inward. “I don’t want to. But it’s…complicated.”

Quinn stares at her, the silence thick enough to choke on. Finally, she says, “Okay. I’m going to play with Sprinkles now.”

Turning away from her mother, Quinn runs down the steps to grab the pig from Sprinkles and runs around the patch of grass with it, the large Newfoundland chasing her.

Sadie rises with a wince, dusts off her knees, and blinks hard at the yard. I want to reach for her, to offer some bridge across the gulf, but I don’t trust myself to not make it worse .

Chloe rises from her chair. “The walk up from the docks is steep. Would you like some lemonade?”

Sadie stares at her for a moment before she responds. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

As Chloe ducks inside, Sadie turns to me in question.

“That’s our Omega, Chloe.” Warmth blooms inside me. “She just joined our pack.”

“She’s pretty.” Sadie’s hand flutters to her braid, fingering the split ends. “Does she get along with Quinn?”