Cayden pushed against her hand to look in her matching clear blue eyes. “If the bears are so weak, why’d we have to put Brent in the cave?”
A ripple of gold danced in her cat-eyes. “We’re so close, sweetheart,” she hissed through a smile. “Don’t get soft on Mama now. You always had my strong heart.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good boy.” She pressed a small kiss to his forehead and then murmured, “Now go upstairs and change your clothes. You smell like wet dog and it’s putting me off my food.”
She settled back in her seat and stabbed at her food again. Cayden took the stairs and closed himself away in his room. There, he unbuttoned his shirt, obediently changing. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, he watched his fingers bare a little more of his smooth chest button by button. He could feel a tightness in his chest, a swirling tornado of carefully contained emotion. He threw the shirt in the hamper, ripped open his closet, and—
Paused. He glanced over at his shoulder at the white button-up peeking out from the top of the hamper. Cautiously, he plucked it back out, balled it up in his hands, and held it to his face, taking in a long breath.
Blueberries. Jasmine and wild honey. Newly risen daisies. Trish Westmore’s scent was imprinted all over his shirt, like a cat territorially rubbing over its favorite scratching post. The memory made his dick twitch in his pants. But his cock wasn’t the only thing swelling uncomfortably; he could feel it, a dull ache in his chest where his heart resided. He could feel it very clearly suddenly; he could feel the thump of each beat, and he half-wondered if it wasn’t larger somehow, filling with more blood than usual.
What did Mother always say? That he had her strong heart?
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he had his father’s weak one.
He caught his own gaze in the mirror, his mother’s steel-ice blues staring back at him. He could see the long scar across his belly where Jacob’s Beast had left its mark.
No. Enough of that. He tossed the shirt back in the hamper, closed the lid this time, and went to the shower to rinse off the rest of her bestial stink.
Chapter 63
When Brent woke up, his vision was swimming. He blinked groggily, his head pounding from where Miranda had knocked him out. Cougar bitch. He groaned and tried to push himself off the ground, feeling hard stone underneath him. There was a clattering as he rose, and he felt weighted down. He reached out and caught on something—a chain. A thick metal chain. One end looked attached to the wall—he was in a cave of some kind?—but the other end…
He followed the chain up until it came to a stop underneath his chin. And then he felt it. Secure around his neck was a thick metal band. He was collared. Like a dog.
That bitch. That goddamn cougar bitch.
Brent tried to stand and get his bearings. When he did, however, he felt as though his blood had dropped straight to his feet and a sudden dizzy vertigo swept over him. As he looked out the cave, he got the uneasy sensation the sky was underneath him and he was hanging from the ceiling.
He shuffled a couple steps closer until he reached the end of his leash. With a sinking feeling he realized it wasn’t the sky underneath him at all.
It was the ocean. The vast North Pacific stretched out forever in front of him. He was trapped in a cave, tethered to a hollowed-out cliff face. Nothing but ocean in front of him and a steep drop below, filled with jagged rocks.
His heart beat in his chest as he flung himself backwards, scurrying away from the steep fall.
God help him. He’d always hated the ocean.
Chapter 64
Holly rinsed her mouth, spitting water and toothpaste into the sink. When she glanced up at herself in the mirror, she could see Jacob in the reflection through the open bathroom door. He was hunched over the edge of the bed, staring pensively at his phone.
“Did you try calling him?” Holly asked as she tied her hair back.
“Twice.” Jacob’s eyes didn’t lift, but Holly saw the shift in his expression. From worry to determination. He tucked his phone back in his pocket. “I’m going over there,” he said. “See what’s going on.”
“Do you think Brent’s in trouble?” Holly asked, tearing away from the mirror so she could stand in the doorway and look at him head-on.
Jacob stood. “There’s no way to know unless I see for myself. Stay here.”
“I’m coming with you,” Holly said.
He shook his head, but his eyes didn’t meet hers. If there was one thing Holly had learned, it was that Jacob Westmore couldn’t look her in the eyes when he was dodging the truth. “It’s probably nothing. There’s no point in both of us going.”