Chapter 44

Charles

"Hey, Grace," Jackson greeted with a warm smile. His easygoing demeanor felt as fake as it did before to me, but I didn’t speak.

"Hey, Jackson," she replied.

Jackson's sudden entrance into the laundry room caught me off guard. His boisterous energy filled the space like a sickly, putrid smell. The problem was that he also seemed genuinely happy, as if the walls themselves exuded fond memories, even with the undercurrent of something else in his scent.

“James, right?” Jackson asked, looking at me.

I gave him a thin smile. “Charles. Harold, right?”

His eyes narrowed. “Jackson.”

“My apologies,” I replied. “Jackson.”

He walked around me and went to stand beside Grace, setting his basket on top of the third washer.

“Ah, I’ve missed the Wolfe laundry room,” Jackson said. “Never forget the first time I caught you washing your clothes down here.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. I still haven’t lived it down.”

“I was a teenage boy. You’re never going to live it down.”

I tried not to listen, but my instincts were tuned in to the conversation, turning over every word for an answer to what I was sensing. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from memory to memory, but the way he spoke made it clear that he held a special place in his heart for this place, for the memories it held, and for the people within it.

Grace's phone started to ring. She pulled it out and hissed, slipping out of the room quickly and leaving us alone. As soon as she left, a charged silence hung between us. There was a glint of a challenge in Jackson’s eyes that almost made me scoff.

He was just a werewolf without anything remarkable about him, yet I couldn't deny the instinctive tension that pulsed within me. I wanted to rip him to shreds for thinking he had equal footing with me, but I realized that was part of the reason why lycans had such a bad reputation among werewolves in the first place: they were weaker, and we never pretended anything different.

I stared back at him, waiting for him to say something. Jackson's confident demeanor wavered for a fraction of a second. He looked me over, sizing me up, and his jaw set as if he couldn’t make up his mind about what he thought about me.

“So… how long have you known Grace?” He asked.

“Not long,” I said, glancing at the door through which Grace had disappeared. “You?”

“Since we were kids,” he said. “We’ve been best friends for a long time… Odd that you’d be staying here with Grace alone.”

“Oh?”

“She’s not the type to let strangers stay around.”

“Did you say something similar when you met her ex-husband?”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. There was jealousy and outright hatred in his eyes.

“That lycan shouldn’t have been anywhere near Grace,” Jackson huffed, throwing his clothing, all of it at once, into the washer.

“On that, we agree.”

I turned back to folding clothes, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything more. I honestly should have just left, but I wanted to see them together for a little longer to see if I could glean anything else from their interactions.

As the silence stretched on, I felt the subtle shift from challenge to caution. Jackson had expected more of a rise out of me or perhaps for me to say something else. Maybe my reference to Devin had clued him to something.

“You’re not a relative. I’ve met all of those,” Jackson said. “So, what are you doing here? You applied for a job at Wolfe Medical? What’s your specialty?”

I smirked. It had to be a mark of my age that I thought his questions to be ridiculous, obvious, and a bit childish. Still, I couldn’t ignore the situation. For a brief moment, I considered my options. It was clear that Jackson was genuinely unaware of who I was, and the opportunity to tell him and scare the shit out of Jackson was tempting, but I knew it would only further comp my identity and demand respect was ripe. However, given Eason’s plan, that wouldn’t be wise. Something told me that Jackson couldn’t be trusted to keep the secret.

Suppressing the instincts, I tucked a pair of socks together.

"I'm a consultant," I replied evenly.

“A consultant for what?”

“Business.”

He scoffed. “What does that mean? You tell people how to spend less money?”

He eyed me. “You don’t really fit the bill of a consultant.”

I turned to him and looked over him. “I don’t feel the need to explain my job to you. After all, you don’t fit the bill of someone who would understand.”

He flushed. “I’m a pharmacist with a Ph.D. I think I more than fit the bill.”

I smiled. “Doubtful.”

I grabbed my basket and headed out just as Grace was coming down the stairs. She looked hopeful that I would stop, but I gave her a polite smile.

“I think Cecil and Richard’s clothes will be done in about an hour. I’ll come back down for them.”

Her smile dropped as she blinked at me. “Charles… is there something wrong?”

I paused. Her tone struck something in me. My instinctual response was more snarling than words, but I shook my head.

“Nothing, Grace.” I paused. “I’ll be out around lunchtime, I think.”

“Okay…” Grace said stiffly.

“I’ll be back for dinner, for sure.”

Her eyes softened, and she nodded. “Okay. Until then.”

With a polite nod, I passed her up the stairs and headed back to my room. As I returned to my own space, the measure of my restraint trembled. Jackson was going to be a problem, and he really had no idea what kind of problem he was inviting into his life.

I fucking hated being mature when I didn’t want to be.

Restlessness gnawed at my insides. I was pissed. I was territorial and suspicious as hell, and that jackass was definitely planning to make a nuisance of himself.

I needed to get out of this house for a few hours and get my mind together. I didn’t want Cecil to see me like this, and I definitely didn’t want to worry Grace any more than I already had. I’d have to come up with something to say to her by dinner, but I had time. I changed for a run and headed outside via the back doors. The cold air wrapped around me, cooling me, and the scent of the forest led me beyond the edges of the house.

I had no idea how long I was gone, but when the sun started to drift towards the horizon, I turned back towards the house. I showered and changed to something casual before heading into the kitchen. The scent of the kitchen warmed me. It was apparently the one place that Jackson hadn’t wandered yet. I went to the refrigerator and started making dinner. No one stirred throughout the house.

Odd.

Then, I heard Jackson’s voice.

“Oh, come on, Grace, it’s just one night.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“That’s never stopped you before. I’m offering to pay this time.”

“Ha! It would be a first, you jerk.”

They laughed, and I did my best not to think about it as they drew closer. I dropped my gaze to what I was making, marinara, since Cecil had asked to try pasta after seeing it on my laptop.

“Oh, Charles, do you want to come?” I looked up as Grace came in, dressed to leave. “Jackson wants to go to an old favorite.”

She paused. “Now that I think of it, Cecil hates that place.”

I smiled. “I promised her pasta tonight. You go ahead.”

Jackson stepped into view, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re going to make dinner?”

He smiled. “I plan to eat too.”

“What’s pasta?” Grace asked, coming into the kitchen and scanning the ingredients. “I’m going to be honest and say I don’t recognize half of what’s there.”

“You’ll have to try it. There should be leftovers for you,” I smirked. “Assuming Cecil doesn’t eat it all.”

She laughed. “It’s fine. I couldn’t ask you to.”

“You’re not asking. I volunteered,” I waved her towards Jackson. “You haven’t seen your friend in a long time. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on. I’m sure I can manage Cecil and Richard for a night without you.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Right. Well, if that was in doubt, I would be worried… if you insist, I guess.”

I caught Jackson’s eyes and saw a malicious glint there. He hadn’t had the sense to think about her children, probably assuming she’d just call Kelly or leave them with Eason.

What a child.

I listened to them leave and took a deep breath.

“Uncle Charles?” Cecil called, peeking around the side of the door.

“Yes, Cecil?”

“Is he gone?” She looked around suspiciously.

I chuckled. “Yes. He’s gone.”

Her eyes brightened, and she skipped into the kitchen. “Can I help?”

“You certainly can. Let’s get your brother first, hm?”

Days passed like that. Jackson was always pulling Grace out to do something that they used to do together. The light in her eyes was growing, and my irritation was getting harder and harder to hold back. Maintaining distance from Grace was a choice I believed to be rational and necessary, but it took an undeniable toll on both of us. Our conversations about the company were stilted at best. There was a flicker of sadness and worry in her eyes that I couldn’t figure out the source of.

Some of it was my fault. Pulling away from Grace was straining the bond we were forging. The connection that had been growing between us felt like a fragile thread that threatened to snap at any moment. I could see the hurt in her eyes as she tried to understand the sudden shift in my demeanor. But the alternative, which likely would have had Jackson’s guts painting the foyer and front steps, was worse.

Even as I told myself that this was for the best, my heart ached in her absence. I tried to distract myself with work, but it wasn’t working. Being in this house and knowing that I couldn’t be with Grace the way I had gotten used to was driving me crazy.

It was another day that Jackson seemed to be planning to monopolize Grace’s time without any regard for her children that George called me.

I stepped outside onto the balcony to take the call.

“Tell me you need me.”

He chuckled. “What happened now?”

“I’m about a second away from a territorial battle with a stupid werewolf.”

George chuckled. “Nothing is exploding or imploding… I did do as I pleased and fielded several calls about it. I’m enjoying that.”

I shook my head. “Try not to antagonize her too much.”

“Just enough. I was actually calling to let you know that I’ve got an appointment for you. She was… hard to get a hold of, but she’ll be nearby tomorrow. I set it for tomorrow morning.”

“Come get me tonight, then.”

“Tonight?”

I looked back as Jackson came into the living room, and Cecil escaped into the playroom.

“Tonight.”