Page 9

A s soon as I pulled into my garage, I unlocked the side door and entered the hallway that led to the kitchen. I set my purse down and entered the elevator across from the laundry room. The elevator whooshed downward until it arrived in my newly renovated basement.

I rushed to the bed on the left wall and switched on the lamp. “Dad?”

Though his eyes remained closed, he had a pulse and his chest moved with each breath.

When I checked his oxygen tank, it was at zero. With haste, I grabbed a new one. After replacing the tank, I turned it on and sat on the edge of the bed.

I could remember a time when he wasn’t frail, when his back was straight, his shoulders broad, and light glinted in his eyes.

Now his hollow cheeks and fragile form were reminders that youth and strength weren’t forever.

I had never known him as a young man, but he had always been strong and capable.

He wasn’t exactly sprinting around the house these days, but he still managed to get by with a walker.

Despite his balking, he followed rules that defined his dwindling independence, like no showering unless I was home and no lifting heavy objects.

I ran my fingers across his bristly jaw and muttered, “You need another shave.”

His eyes popped open, and he clutched my wrist. “And you need to stop fussing over your old man.”

I blew out a breath. “You scared me half to death.”

“I still haven’t lost my touch. Quick on the draw.”

“When did the oxygen run out? You should’ve hooked up a new tank. I showed you how to do it.”

“What did I just say about fussing?”

“I’m your daughter, so it’s my job to fuss all I want. Sorry I’m late. I lost track of the time.”

A smile touched his lips as he pushed himself up and leaned against the headboard. “How did your date go?”

I propped another pillow behind his back. “That was last night. Remember?” I crossed the room and searched inside the refrigerator. “How was your dinner?”

“Dee-licious. I could eat your pork chops and coleslaw every day.”

“Well, that’s not a well-balanced diet. Didn’t you see the greens?”

“Saving those for tomorrow.”

After raking the scraps into the trash, I washed the plate and utensils in the kitchenette opposite his bed. I’d tried to make this room as homey as possible with its own bathroom, kitchenette, and a large television at the foot of his bed.

“Are you gonna tell me what kept you out so late?” he asked. “I worry about you being out at night. Bad things happen in the dark.”

I set the plate on a drying rack and worked on cleaning his glass. “It was a baby shower.”

“Who’s having a baby?”

“One of the local wolves.”

“Who?”

I looked over my shoulder but couldn’t see him for the TV.

“Nobody you know. Her name is Hope, and since she’s the Packmaster’s mate, I couldn’t get out of it.

But we had fun. There were a lot of silly games you would’ve gotten a kick out of.

One of them was bobbing for pacifiers. In another, we had to guess her weird pregnancy cravings—kind of like charades.

Nobody guessed lobster, but we were laughing so hard. ”

“I once knew a pregnant lady who ate dirt.”

After finishing the glass, I peered inside the microwave to make sure nothing had exploded into a sticky mess.

“When can I live upstairs again?” he asked.

Racked with guilt, I turned and stood next to the enormous television at the foot of the bed.

“You know I can’t leave you upstairs. You’re safer down here while I’m at work.

There’re too many crazy fools in this town, and some of them don’t like me.

They might get a dumb idea and come out here again to instigate something. ”

“Then I’ll pop them with a shotgun and see how they like that.” He cackled and wheezed.

“Mm-hmm.” I tied up his trash and set it by the elevator. “Do you want me to shave you tonight or tomorrow?”

“A beard might look good on me since I don’t have much hair on top.” He laughed again.

“Someone’s in a good mood tonight with all the jokes.”

Nothing had changed about his sense of humor.

My father didn’t like electric razors and only wanted a full barber treatment with the straight razor. I didn’t trust his unsteady hands to do it himself, so I always carved out time to pamper him with a hot towel and fresh cut.

“It’s late, so we’ll fix you up tomorrow.” I checked the long table by the door where his pills were organized in containers. When I noticed he’d missed his evening pill, I brought it to him with a glass of water. “Here, you forgot to take your vitamins.”

He grumbled before reluctantly swallowing it. “They taste like mud.”

“And how would you know what mud tastes like?” I gave him a teasing smile. “The Relic says it’s helping with your muscle mass. We’ll have you looking like Superman in no time. I want you to walk around the room after breakfast and then pedal a little on that bicycle over there.”

“That seat hurts my ass.”

“Would a wheelchair be more comfortable? The more exercise you get, the better. The Relic said as long as you keep using your leg muscles and boosting your protein, you can stay strong enough to walk.”

“If I were upstairs, I could walk around outside.”

“You might fall down. The stationary bike is safer.”

He glowered and returned the empty glass. “Maybe you should do what my ancestors did.”

“And what’s that?”

His voice grew serious, and he gave me a solemn look. “Let me go. When the elders reached their final days, they took their last walk. They said goodbye to their family, shifted, and their animal led them on their last adventure. It’s the dignified way to go.”

I hugged him so tight that tears sprang from my eyes. “You’re not dying—you’re just getting old. I’m here to take care of you.”

He patted my back. “If you had a mate, you’d have something better to do than keep me alive. How am I supposed to leave this world knowing you’re alone?”

When I leaned back, I feigned a smile. “I take care of myself.”

He pinched my chin with a shaky hand. “Don’t let this beauty fade before finding someone who can appreciate it.”

My father was the reason I was dating again, and I didn’t want this to be an argument between us.

I loved him more than life itself, and he’d shaped me into the strong woman I’d become.

Without knowing how much time he had left, I didn’t want him worrying about my future.

Family was important to him. He always impressed upon me the value of a suitable partner and having someone who could take care of me, which never made sense until I became his caregiver.

I still had plenty of centuries to worry about love, but if this was the one thing I could do to bring my father happiness before he died, I would do it.

“You look tired,” he said. “Go on and get to bed.”

I switched on the television and browsed the channels until I found a show he liked.

“You should walk around and stretch your legs before going to sleep. I’m going to schedule a day off this week so you can relax on the back porch while the weather’s still cool.

We can take a little walk around the property, and I’ll show you some new wildflowers that sprouted up by the shed. How does that sound?”

He gave me a lopsided smile—the one that conveyed he wasn’t thrilled about having to ask permission to do basic things. But he was getting on in years, and our roles had reversed in many ways.

“Don’t you dare go upstairs while I’m at work,” I cautioned him. “I’ll know if you do.”

“And how?”

“Maybe I have hidden cameras. I’m serious, Dad. If something happened to you while I was gone, I would?—”

Shatter into a million pieces.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” He patted my hand. “I’m just fussin’ because I miss my view.”

Despite the nature paintings on the wall and natural light bulbs, none of it made up for the fact he was living in the basement. My father loved the outdoors even when it was hot and miserable. I always brought him upstairs after work, but tonight I was too exhausted because of the party.

“Is there anything you need before I go to bed?”

He crossed his arms. “You got a man up there?”

I put my hands on my hips and arched my eyebrows. “Someone’s been watching too many daytime soap operas. And what if I did?”

“No one takes advantage of my only daughter.”

“And no one ever will. You raised me to be a strong woman who doesn’t put up with foolishness.”

“You’re right, which makes me wonder why you’re putting up with me.”

“Because I love you. If there’s anything you need to make it more comfortable here, let me know.

I can paint the walls, add carpet, or buy new furniture.

Whatever you want. I’ll figure something out.

This is only temporary.” After lifting the garbage bag, I pushed the elevator button and stepped inside.

“There’re strawberries in the fridge. I love you, Dad. ”

“Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” we said in unison.

Once upstairs, I tossed the garbage and prepared his meals for tomorrow.

It was a nightly ritual, but sometimes I was able to stock his fridge with several days’ worth of food to give him options.

The older he got, the fewer choices he had in life, so little things mattered.

We often had breakfast together, sometimes dinner.

It usually depended on my schedule. While he was still able-bodied enough to cook for himself, the last time I left him alone in the kitchen, he forgot to turn the burner off.

I still had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I thought about the last time someone came over and threatened my father after he opened the door.

He was my world, so moving him downstairs was necessary for his protection.

There were so many new responsibilities I had with him under my care, and they were growing by the day.

I poured myself a tall glass of sweet tea, added ice, and headed onto the back porch. Though I couldn’t see anything but stars, I sat on the porch swing, lifted my feet off the ground, and enjoyed the cool breeze.

My days and nights were filled with work, each of a different kind.

While I enjoyed my father’s company and we had fun, I was still his caretaker, and that was a job unto itself.

Tonight was the first time in ages I’d let my hair down.

I envied packs and the bond they shared.

They chose each other to share their lives with, and that was extraordinarily special.

After a gulp of tea, I set my glass down when a message came through on my phone.

Lucian

You left your shoes here

Eden

I’ll swing by when I can. Should I make an appointment?

Lucian

My Packmaster wants me to bring them to you

Eden

Now??

Lucian

No. We’re busy cleaning up. When do you need to wear them?

I laughed at his remark, mostly because it was accurate. There wasn’t a rush to return the shoes unless I had plans to wear them with a specific outfit.

Eden

Can you bring them to my house on Tuesday morning? I’m scheduling the day off, so whenever you have time. My house isn’t far from yours.

Lucian

I know where you live. See you then.

I stared at the phone.

“I know where you live?” After setting the phone down, a laugh popped out of me. “Boy, you sound like a serial killer.”

From anyone else, that ominous remark might have concerned me. But this was Lucian, and he was… literal. My location wasn’t a secret by any means, but I never had visitors over, only colleagues who dropped by on occasion for an impromptu meeting.

I closed my eyes. The scent of a distant campfire filled the night air, and the crickets’ rhythmic chirping mirrored the ebb and flow of my thoughts.

My father had raised me to walk in his footsteps, and those were big shoes to fill.

He always said: Be more than a good person; be a person who does good things.

Now our roles had reversed, and I could feel his frustration when I set rules.

None of his gripes had to do with me, and I had to remind myself of that.

He loved living with me, but the root of his unhappiness was fear—fear that when he died, I would be alone in this world.

Fear that no one would love me or have my back like he always had.

Even though my past five dates were failures, I wouldn’t let that deter me from finding a suitable match.

As I stared up at the half-moon, a shiver ran down my spine.

For a split second when I found my father earlier, I thought he had passed.

My life flashed before my eyes, and it wasn’t just the pain of not having him anymore.

How could I let him leave this world with worry in his heart?

It made me determined to honor his wish while he was still alive.

Afram was born in Africa long ago and lived many happy years in his tribe of hunters.

Despite the beauty, there were also hardships like drought, fires, and sometimes warring Shifter tribes.

When the colonizers arrived, he traveled the world to escape the clutches of slavery among Breed and humans alike.

As one of the first black settlers in the northern half of America, he worked hard to free human slaves as well as ensure Shifter slavery would not carry over to this country.

He kept his first name but eventually acquired a modern surname.

Because my father was old, his tribe was no more. Their unique language was now extinct, only spoken by him and me. I wasn’t as fluent as he was since we rarely spoke in his native tongue anymore, but he’d taught it to me so I could one day pass it on to my children.

The swing slowly stopped as I thought about children—something I’d never desired.

I loved babies and was good with kids, but I didn’t have the longing for them that some people did.

The only time I ever felt guilty about it was when I realized my father’s history and language would one day die with me.

Having children to make him happy wasn’t in the cards, but finding a mate? Now that was something I could do.

A frog lazily hopped onto the porch, unaware that a predator sat a few feet away. When I leaned forward and growled at him, he fled for his life.