Fated for Two

The voice ringing out in the quiet of his room had Brenton jumping up and grabbing a gym bag from his closet. He quickly grabbed clothing from his dresser and closet before moving toward his bathroom. From it, he threw his toiletries into his small travel bag, then threw it into his gym bag also.

Making sure he had his wallet, keys, and cell phone, he raced out the door yelling, “Owen!”

Owen came from the kitchen, a panicked look on his face as he questioned, “Sir?”

“I’m going to be gone overnight. I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but for now, I’m leaving everything in your hands,” Brenton told him as he opened the front door. “Of course, if anything happens, you can call my cell.”

“Does this have something to do with the woman rogue?”

Brenton paused as he realized he’d not told his Pack anything about Farrah. Nodding his head, he said, “It does because she’s my mate.”

Then he walked out, leaving his stunned beta behind as he raced for his truck.

Glancing at the clock on his dash, Brenton saw it had only been about an hour since he’d gone to bed at six, in too much pain to hide it from the Pack and too tired to stay up any longer. He hoped Farrah and Everard would be at Everard’s house. He was taking the back way, a shortcut, but he felt uncomfortable passing over onto Everard’s pack land without permission. It just wasn’t something one alpha did to another or any pack member, for that matter.

The shortcut brought him up behind Everard’s house, and he saw the beat-up old truck parked off to the side, Farrah’s car next to it, and gave a sigh of relief. As he drove around to the front of the house, he took in how run down it was. The whole place looked as if a strong wind would blow it down. Farrah and Everard were sitting outside on a metal swing that was under a shade tree. When he came to a stop and shut his truck off, they both turned to look his way.

A smile bloomed on Farrah’s face as he stepped out of the truck. She said, “You came back.”

Brenton nodded and said, “I did. You’re right, we need to talk, but it might be better to do it somewhere neutral. Perhaps we should go into the city, have a late dinner, maybe stay the night in a motel…” his voice trailed off as she began shaking her head at him.

“No. Brenton, whatever the issue between you and Everard is, location isn’t going to change it. Not only that, but I’m still exhausted from my traveling. With one of my mates in the wind last night, I didn’t sleep well.”

Brenton slightly huffed as he glanced over at Everard, who was staring at the ground. Everard had never had the strong dominant exterior that every alpha needed to run a pack. He’d never had to because his brother had been the one in line for the alpha ship.

Still, there was a time he would have looked Brenton square in the eyes, showing he did have enough alpha blood not to cringe. Now though, now he seemed as if he almost feared Brenton would attack him if he looked at him. This saddened Brenton, and he suddenly longed for the way things used to be, but he wasn’t sure he would ever get there again because it had been too long.

Brenton was beginning to see just how broken his ex-friend was. “Fine, we’ll stay here.”

Brenton then turned to stare at the house once more. It was the house where he’d spent many hours growing up because it was Everard’s childhood home, but it looked nothing like he remembered. The house he remembered had almost pulsed with love, this one radiated sadness. The white paint was chipped, multiple boards bare of any color at all. The porch sagged, and more than one step was broken. It even looked as if there was silver duct tape on one of the enormous bay windows. The grass around it was dead, as was the roses that once had been Mrs. Steward’s favorite and thrived under her care.

He watched Everard as he stood up, his shoulders drooping as he turned to walk up the porch and open the front door. He then mentioned, “The inside doesn’t look much better, Brenton, just a warning. The Pack isn’t… it isn’t doing well financially right now. I’ve been concentrating on getting the packhouse repaired so a few of them would have a place to stay and have neglected my own home.”

Brenton took a deep breath as he followed them inside. Just how bad off are they? How long has this been going on? I should have been here to help him. I should have let him explain things, and maybe his Pack wouldn’t be suffering like this now. I’ll make it up to him; somehow, I will.

Stepping inside, he watched as Farrah turned and opened her mouth to state, “I’m not a neat-nick or anything; I just don’t like clutter where people coming into my house can see it. My bedroom tends to look like a tornado hit most days, but the bathroom and kitchen are two rooms that must be spic and span. Mom drilled that into us kids at an early age.”

“I’m not very neat at all, Farrah. I know by the time we had your car running last night, we pretty much fell into bed, so you didn’t get a good look at my mess, but here it is,” Everard muttered as he glanced around the living room, cringing at the sight of glasses and plates stacked on the coffee table. “My bedroom is even worse, although I did manage to put clean sheets on the bed last night while you showered. However, I haven’t done dishes in days because I’ve been too busy trying to work full time and finish the pack-house roof.”

Farrah turned to Brenton and asked, “You?”

Brenton cleared his throat as he told her, “I’m almost OCD about things being in their place. I like order and despise chaos in my space. I tend to drive the pack nuts demanding that everything be a certain way. My mom was that way, though, so I suppose it was groomed into me.”

Farrah nodded, then said, “Okay, well, we’ll all have to work hard then to make sure everyone is happy. I’m neat enough with most things, and I’ll work on the rest. Poor Everard, though…”

Brenton chuckled as he stood looking at the mess before he mentioned, “He’s always been a slob. I was used to it before; suppose I’ll get used to it again. Although, I do remember having to fight the urge to clean his room from time to time.”

“Mm… you might get used to it, but it’s doubtful,” Farrah said. “Before, you only had to put up with his mess part of the time, and now it will be full time.”

“Oh, yeah,” Brenton mumbled as he glanced around the room again, this time taking in more than the dishes. He quickly noticed the water stains on the ceiling and the cobwebs on the ceiling fan. He cringed, hoping there were no actual spiders in the webs, and wanted to grab a broom to clean them off.

Farrah’s giggle brought his gaze back to her. “Sweetheart, we’ll get to that later. For now, let’s find something to eat. It’s getting late, and I’m hungry.”

Brenton nodded.

“I’m not sure what I have,” Everard said. “I don’t eat here too much, mostly just breakfast. I take my other meals with the Pack in the pack-house.”

“What did the two of you do today?” Brenton asked.

“We went into the city, and I showed her around,” Everard answered. “We figured until we talked to you, it would be best not to have the Pack asking questions if we’d been here; that’s what they would have done. We just got back a little while ago.”

Farrah hummed, then said, “Brenton, if you will go out to my car, I still have a few things left from my trip that I never unloaded. There is a cooler with drinks and a paper bag of food my mom insisted I bring along. It’s mostly canned goods, so I don’t know why she made me bring it, it isn’t like I could eat them on the road, but that’s my mom for you. Anyway, in Everard’s truck are the left-over snacks you bought also. If you would bring those things in, I’ll see what I can round up to eat tonight.”

Brenton nodded and headed out the door to do what she’d asked of him.