Page 30 of Not My Mate

She told everybody how good I was with engines. She didn't care if it wasn't the "right" sort of activity for her child. I really wasn't a trophy to them; I wasn't there to perform. They loved me and wanted me to be happy.

As I became less malleable and grew into my adult body, my abuser had lost both control and interest. When he "broke up" with me, I cried and felt guilty, but also so fucking relieved. It confused me, and I couldn't help feeling it was my fault for not loving him enough and losing my one chance at happiness. (Because back then, of course, I did believe in soulmates and all that bullshit.) But I was still relieved.

Maybe, I'd decided, I just wasn't cut out for love. Maybe I was going to be alone all my life. And I'd decided I was okay with that, as long as I had engines to work on.

So far, they hadn't let me down. When life hurt and got confusing, I had my metallic, greasy companions to comfort me. I had something I loved to do, and that had never changed. I was safe working on engines, and I didn't have to be so confused about my heart and other people's. Of course, that hadn't stopped me from falling for Sahil, for loving him so much I broke my heart over him over and over again.

And it hadn't stopped me from being so hurt by Russ.

Engines didn't fix everything, and I couldn't fix every one that was broken, but they were there, always, comfortingly, there and waiting for me. It wasn't a fad, and I would never stop enjoying tinkering with machinery, listening to the sound of an engine's rumble till I could make it purr. I loved what I did; hobby or job, I loved it, and it was the one thing in life that stayed steady and trustworthy for me.

"Your parents live here?" Russ asked, apparently no longer able to keep his surprise down to a "holy shit" facial expression. "This place is almost as big as Ralstead and Singh's."

I parked with a flourish and hopped out, ignoring his question. It didn't hurt as much as usual to hear Russ mention Ralstead's name, but it didn't make me feel cheerful and happy, either. I grabbed my bag and started up to the main house, ignoring him. He could feel free to follow, or he could rot in hell. Either one was good for me.

"Charlie," said Rosa, who was standing at the front door, giving me a kind smile. "It is good to see you."

"You too." I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She smelled of biscuit flour and butter.

"Are you hungry? You must eat."

Rosa liked me. She was really good at making sure I ate enough, too. Rosa had taken it to heart that wolves needed to eat a lot, and she was very kind to me. On bad days, after school, I'd always been able to find solace in her kitchen. She was kind of like Mom Number Two.

"I'd love to. Is Mom home?"

"Yes, your mother is in the den. And your father will be home in time for supper. They'll be so happy to see you! Come in, come in. Is this your friend? You both want to eat? I'll bring you cookies and cocoa. You want to go see your mother? I'll fix them."

She knew my favorite. I smiled and tried not to get choked up. It was good to be home, to feel wanted and welcome, to fall back into the routine of snacks and hugging Rosa. It was good to remember nice things from my past, not just the bad ones. I hugged her again, shyly, and then Russ was there, so I introduced him. He shook her hand awkwardly, still looking intimidated, and we both went inside.

"You go see your mother. I'll fix you food. A lot of food," Rosa said, hurrying away like she was trying not to look choked up, too.

It was good to be home.

"Mom?" I called.

The sound echoed, and the echo that returned to me was barking dogs. Several of them, unknown to me. Mom and Dad's newest rescue dogs, of course. I braced myself for impact.

"Charlie?" called Mom's excited voice. "Oh, Charlie! Itisyou!"

She hurried after the rampaging dogs, who were rowdy but not hostile. They crashed on and around the two of us like waves of furry excitement, all wagging tails and barks and slobbering tongues. Mom was still working on them, obviously; by the time she and Dad were done, they'd be mellow and well-trained, ready to go to forever homes. But today they'd picked up on her excitement, and had seen newcomers, and all heck broke loose. It certainly couldn't be called hell, being surrounded by friendly dogs. I patted indiscriminately, greeting them.

My parents never brought home dangerous dogs, and these all smelled friendly and happy. I wasn't worried. On the other hand, Russ's eyes were bugging out. Perhaps it was the contrast between the wild mutts and the expensive home. Perhaps he didn't like dogs. Either way, I didn't mind his discomfort.

Lately, I hadn't been a very nice person where Russ was concerned. Anything that hurt him, even a little bit, I could get behind. He'd done it enough to me; I wanted him to feel the same way. Even though I shrank a little guiltily away from the knowledge of how much I wanted revenge on him, I still wanted it.

"Charlie," said Mom, so happy to see me.

She waded through dogs and enveloped me in a gentle, lily-of-the-valley-scented hug. Before they adopted me, she'd switched to only natural perfumes and scents; all possible chemicals were removed from the property to make it amenable to a shifter child. Shifters tend to have a lot more chemical sensitivity issues and allergies than non-shifters. Their care had paid off, and I had far fewer issues there than some shifters ended up with.

She still, to this day, used no chemical scents at all, either in detergents or perfumes, deodorants, and so on. What she wore now had been made from actual flowers, essential oils, that sort of thing, even though as far as she knew, I might not have come home for six months or more. She was still always ready, always trying not to hurt me.

I hugged her back, breathing in, feeling real and alive again. "Mom." I closed my eyes and felt safe.

She held me close, like she never wanted to let go. When she did release me, it was only to arm's length. "Charlie." She sighed, her gaze soft and warm. "You look so tired. Are you sleeping?"

I shrugged, because really, there was only so much I could do about that. "I'm trying."

She noticed Russ then, for the first time. I was glad I'd held her complete attention so much that he'd had to stand there awkward and unnoticed, fending off dogs the whole time. Then I wasn't so glad, because her gaze lit up incandescently. "Charlie, introduce me to your...friend." She was glowing — and she thought he was more than a friend. That much was obvious, even to me, from her tone. She held out a hand, looking ready to be charmed. Dammit.