Page 87 of Strays
Jay finally breaks the quiet. “Are you hungry?”
We all know he’s talking to her.
She turns her head slightly. “Not really.”
Jay nods.
By the time we pull into the MAB lot, my whole chest aches. Shane parks and cuts the engine, but none of us move.
Then, quietly, Jo speaks. “I missed you.”
No one breathes for a second. Then I say, “Yeah.”
It’s stupid. But I don’t have anything else to give her right now. She could’vecalled. She could’ve said more than just where she was and that she was “fine.” But she didn’t. I believe her when she says she missed us, because I don’t think it’s possible that the same ice-pick pain I’ve been feeling in my chest isn’t buried in hers too. But she chose to stay away. In every way, not just physical distance. She cut us out completely.
Jay and I pull the bags from the truck bed, and we walk in silence to the administrative building to check in and grab our keys. Then more silence as we make our way to the housing building.
It’s not the same unit we stayed in that first night with her, but they’re all the same. Same wide space, same large couch and same oversized nest.
She heads straight to the couch and sits down.
I set her bags on the floor near the nest. Shane disappears into the bathroom. Jay pulls a water bottle from the minibar. I think they’re just as lost as I am, avoiding her with the same intensity we want to be near her.
I thought that when I saw her again, I’d just open my arms and let her fall into them. That Shane would cry in relief. That Jay would apologize again and swear never to touch another human without direct orders.
But I was wrong. I am angry in a way I’ve never been with either of my brothers. Maybe because I know, deep in my bones, that no matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets, how hard we fall, they would never leave me. Not ever. That’s not something I even have to doubt.
But her… she did.
And now, weirdly, I’m thinking about my mother.
All my life, I believed that no matter how sad or hurt she was, she’d accepted what happened with my fathers because of the bond. I thought it dulled everything, kept her from feeling anger toward them even after they bonded with another nyra. But now I know that’s not true. She felt it all: the pain, the betrayal, the helpless fury. She just never let it show.
Somehow, that makes it worse.
A while passes, I don’t know how long. Then I hear Jo’s voice from the couch, so quiet I’m sure a human wouldn’t even catch it.
“Please.”
And despite everything, it’s a plea none of us can ignore.
We move. Shane drops down beside her first, the couch dipping under his weight. I sink onto the other end. Jay takes the space between me and her.
Her eyes stay fixed on her hands in her lap; her fingers twist together. She takes a deep breath. “I made a mess,” she says. “Of everything.”
Her voice cracks a little, but she pushes on. “Leaving the way I did was the wrong move. I know I kept you all in the dark, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t have any excuses. I just… was losing my mind. And by the time I came to my senses, it felt too late. We were already so distant, I didn’t know how to find my way back over the phone. So I waited. I thought I’d come home and fix things in person. Maybe that was the wrong choice too. I don’t know. I’ve made a lot of bad ones lately.”
“You broke something between us, Jo. I don’t even know what exactly. But I can feel it,” Jay says, his voice cold.
He’s right. She broke a pack belief we’ve always lived by: whatever happens, we stay. We face it together. We take the hit as a pack. Anything else, we can survive. One of us walking away is the one thing we can’t.
She blinks fast, and one tear slips down, catching on her jaw. A steady hum rises from Shane’s chest. Mine follows. Then Jay’s. I guess it doesn’t matter what’s going on, we can’t help but hum when she cries.
“I know,” she whispers. “But I want to make things right. I want to earn your forgiveness.”
The idea of her having to fight for us knocks the air out of me. It feels completely wrong. She lost her family, friends, even the respect of her coworkers because of us. We were the ones who spent years dreaming about finding her, the ones whose lives got so much better with her in it, even as hers was falling apart.
But my thoughts and feelings are at war, and the rational part of me is losing right now, because even knowing all that, I still want to scream at her.
