Page 24 of Into the Fire: Before

Caine

Of.Fucking.Course.

I knew I shouldn’t have come.

If I found out Brooks knew about this and didn’t tell me, I’d slap him so hard his curls would straighten. Lin would murder me, but it would be worth it.

The beta woman I’d met with Monday still stood, now awkwardly, waiting for me to sit. I stared, furious, at my tenant sitting in one of two single chairs. Mygoddamn fucking therapist. Brea Maddox. Downstairs alpha. Hated my guts.

I gave a single shake of my head, a curt “Nope,” and walked back out again. Out of the building, across the blazing parking lot, into my already too warm car. I loosed a frustrated breath and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel.

Brooks had pestered me over the course of weeks into registering for this stupid program. Low cost, short term, benefited local students. Fine. Sure. Did I think for a second it would do anything other than raise my blood pressure? No way. I had very little faith that a few hours of bitching about my fuckups and problems would stop the headaches. Bleeding my trauma on some stranger’s couch wouldn’t make my inner alpha sit down and shut up for fucking once. These were the prices I paid for choices I’d made, and that was it. Uphill forever, getting steeper day by day.

But Brooks’ growing worry over my well-being leaking through the bond was poison in my veins. The beta so rarely let his smile falter, but I’d made it so more and more.

So. I agreed. I attended the orientation. I signed the waivers. I met the mentor. I confirmed my consent.

But I couldn’t. Not here. With her.

A gentle knock on my car window startled me up.

I think, therefore she is?

Brea stood outside my car, anxiety curving over her eyes. The light breeze disrupted her red waves so they spread out behind her. She shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand, the other clenched down by her side. “Can we talk a minute?”

“No need,” I said, starting the engine.

“C’mon,” she said, knocking again. “There are three other residents. Olinda can transfer you to someone else. Don’t walk away because of me.”

“I wasn’t meant to be here anyway,” I said. “Now move.”

She hesitated a moment, like she wasn’t sure what her next move was. Probably not—this wasn’t part of her script, for damnsure. Then her eyes narrowed and she stepped away from my car.

Only to step behind it.

“Not until you come inside and we reschedule you with another resident.”

My fingers tightened around the gear shift. My eyes, glued to the rearview mirror. Car still in park, I revved the engine. A muscle in her eye twitched at the harsh sound of it, but she only stepped closer.

“You registered for a reason,” she called out, loudly enough I could hear her over the engine and through my closed window. “You might hate that you’re here right now, but you’re here for a reason, and having known you for all of ten seconds it must be a damn good reason to actually get you out here. So I’m not letting you run away without even trying to fix this.”

There was still six or so feet between Brea and the back of my car. I narrowed my eyes, shifted into reverse, and let the car idle back half a foot.

"Really, Caine?" she shouted as she smacked my back window with her palm. "You're not running me over, and I'm not moving. So you may as well get the fuck out of your car and let us reschedule you with another resident!"

I shut my eyes, hating that she was right. Hating the fact that if I went home and told Brooks I’d bailed, I’d feel his heart breaking right where mine beat. Maybe my bleak fate was sealed, but like hell would I drag him into the gray with me.

I turned the key. The car quieted. Something inside me did too.

Brea waited for me to stand up out of my car. I did, then locked it, and we stood face to face. Her eyes looked different today than they had Saturday night. Not like they wanted to slice me in half, but like they saw the pieces I was already in. Like they wanted to see the whole those pieces made.

“Good choice,” she said.

We walked back inside together. The beta woman stood just inside the outer office. “Ah, thank you for coming back, Caine,” she said. “Brea told me you two actually know each other already. There was a clerical error with your paperwork—it had another resident’s name on it, hence the little surprise back there. No worries at all, though, we’ll get you rescheduled right away.”

“No.”

The woman blinked. “No?”

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