Everything That You Are (3 page)

It was while his mother was cutting slices of peach pie for dessert, leaning into the kiss his father placed on her temple, that she had turned to notice the silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

She had dropped the knife and let it clatter to the floor in her rush to pull him into a hug and ask what was wrong.
He’d looked at her in confusion until she wiped away a tear from his cheek that he hadn’t even realised was there.

A flush that he was sure covered his entire body had rushed through him at the thought of being caught crying by his mom. He was more scared at that point than he had ever been in his life, because he knew he couldn’t lie to his parents, which meant that he would have to come clean.
Both about his mate and his shame at rejecting him.

Michael had cleared his throat and spoken in a low voice.
“Mom.”
Then turning to his father, “Dad, I think I’m gay.”
He’d held his breath, waiting for the denials and accusations that were sure to come, and they did, but not in the form he had expected. His dad’s face had remained stoical as the older man’s eyes searched his, but it was his mom that had spoken up first, or rather shouted.

“That’s what this is about? You’ve been moping around for the past
six
months, then come here and get so upset that you’re crying because you think we’ll…what?…hate you for being gay? Michael Nathaniel
Rockheim
, I ought to bend you over my knee right now. How could you possibly think that your father and I would be so callous as to turn you away simply because of your sexual preferences? Boy, I should just take you outside and whip your hide till…”

His mom had continued to berate and threaten him thoroughly as she retrieved the fallen knife, washed it, and continued to cut slices of pie for everyone. Michael had been so dumbfounded that he had started to laugh. That is, until he had seen the look of hurt in his father’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, cutting into his mom’s angry tirade. “I really didn’t mean to offend you. I just know how much you wanted grandchildren and…”

“Baby,” his mom had pleaded in a tortured voice, “how could you possibly think that I would trade your happiness for mine?
Especially when there are more ways than one to have children.”

Shame had flooded him anew at his wrongful assumptions.

“So…you’re not upset that I might be gay?” His mother had raised the knife still in her hand, pointing it at him with a glare in her eyes that bespoke pain, lots of pain, if he didn’t stop with the apparent insults.

He had quickly held up his hands in surrender and this time couldn’t keep the laugh of relief from bubbling up from his chest. “Okay, okay. Truly sorry here,” he said with a chuckle. The honesty and love his parents were showing him, despite the fact that he knew they’d both been looking forward to having grandchildren, humbled him in a way that nothing else had.

“Son, of course we have no problem with you being gay, but what exactly did you mean when you said you
think
you might be gay? Something tells me this is a lot more serious than a simple experiment.”

He had known his father would have picked up on that little detail—it was the mark of a true Alpha, one which he himself had used to his own benefit for many years. Still, he had cringed at the thought of having to admit to his parents the extent of the disastrous choice of rejecting his mate.

Hesitantly, he’d said, “I’d never been attracted to a man until I met him.
My mate.
It was about six months ago, but he was barely a pup at the time.
Maybe eighteen.
I got so scared that I left him. He was…he…shit, he was working in a club, Dad, as a dancer, and I think doing something on the side for extra money.”

His father’s face was once again stoical, while his mother had wiped briskly at her eyes as if to hide tears.

“Honey, if that young man was working underage in a club, then he was probably doing the only thing he knew how to survive. Oh Michael, you’ve got to find him. He’s obviously without a clan. That poor thing could be taken advantage of without any kind of protection. Oh sweetheart…he must be so lost.” Right then, seeing the tears of sympathy in his mom’s eyes for a man she didn’t even know except for the fact that he was her son’s mate, he’d felt like the biggest ass on the planet.

A sharp knock at the door brought him out of his reverie and he glanced at the wall clock next to his desk.
Quarter to one.
It would be his dad bringing over the CD of spreadsheets for Mrs
O’Neily’s
lands. She was looking to extend her acres to include a part of the Buckland’s orchards, which they had agreed to exchange with her for rights to several of her well-springs so that they could feed their crops with less expense.

“Come in,” he yelled, still unable to take his eyes off the latest email attesting to his failed attempts to find his mate. Though his office was located beyond his living room and down a long hallway, he was still able to pick up his father’s distinct scent and hear the soft click of the latch as he entered his home and closed the door behind him. Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“No luck yet?” his father asked as he eased himself down into a leather recliner positioned to the side of the desk. Michael glanced at the man who could have been his twin but for a sprinkling of grey hair and a few additional laughter lines around the edges of his eyes.

He didn’t have to ask to know what he was talking about. The evidence of his failed search was staring him in the face. He knew he should get back to work, but the hopelessness of the situation was wearing on him. It had been four years since he’d started his search for his mate, using several channels to get hold of every clan he could reach, and even some he hadn’t known about, thanks to his father. But it had all been in vain.

Michael sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on the desktop. “Dad, I left him out there.
Alone.
I was afraid just because he had a penis between his legs.”

He was vaguely embarrassed to be so vulgar in front of his father, but the older man was the only one he could talk to about this. He hadn’t mentioned the discovery of his mate to anyone else in his clan, and discussing sex with his mother was
not
an option.

Sam reached over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder in support. “Son, we’ll find him. Don’t give up.”

Michael laughed bitterly at that and shook off his father’s hand as he stood up and began pacing the room. “You don’t know that. A mate is the most precious gift one can receive from Mother Earth, and I spurned him. I took her gift and threw it away like so much trash.”

That familiar ache that he had come to live with every minute of every day began to gnaw at his insides, threatening to take over his self-control. He stopped his pacing beside the window behind the loveseat in his office, staring at the beautiful landscape spreading out before him in ravines and rolling hills filled with trees bursting with life. It was hard to look upon such peaceful surroundings when his entire being was filled with turmoil and regret.

He didn’t even notice that his father had stood up until he felt a sharp tug on the ponytail at the back of his neck. “Stop what you’re thinking right now. He isn’t dead and you will find him. Damn, you’re just like you were at the age of ten.
Too damned impatient for your own good and wanting Mother Earth to serve you everything on a silver platter.
You made a mistake, son, and you’re working to rectify it. You will find him.”

His father’s sage words rang through him, and he knew that he was reaching the end of his patience, but what else was there to do? The idea of giving up the search for his mate was inconceivable. He let out a sigh and grasped his father’s hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze to let him know that he understood.

Returning to his desk, he was about to ask his father for the disk containing Mrs
O’Neily’s
spreadsheets when his cell phone went off. He kept two with him at all times.
His private phone, which only his parents and Betas had access to, and one the rest of the clan was directed to use to contact him.
The caller ID on his private line identified Nick, his Beta and long-time friend, and he answered it immediately, knowing the man only used this line for business.

“Nick, what’s up?”

“I was just out here surveying Mrs
O’Neily’s
lands for you and got pulled into a conversation with Wiley and Buckland and they’ve all expressed concern over the whereabouts of Stephen McCain. You remember him?”

Michael knew instantly the man he was referring to. Stephen had been caught a few times transporting illegal drugs to other clans but they had never been able to convict him of selling them. Most clans tended to live on the outskirts of human society, if not completely away from it. Some members saw this as an opportunity to take advantage of the privacy and land to grow drugs and sell them to humans or other clan members to make a profit.

Michael was far from fond of Stephen, but the man was still a member of his community, and he was therefore responsible for his wellbeing.

“Yeah, I remember him. What has he gotten himself into this time?”

Nick grunted. “Well, that’s just it. No one knows. Buckland and Wiley remarked that they haven’t seen him in almost a week, and Mrs
O’Neily
is telling me that he seemed pretty scared the last time she saw him.
Thought someone might be after him or something.”

Michael barely sucked in the sarcastic remark dancing on the tip of his tongue before taking a breath and saying, “Fine. Have you checked out his place yet?”

“Yeah.
No forced entries and nothing out of the ordinary inside, if you take into account the man’s disgusting living habits. Do you know I had to walk through weeks-old, half-filled pizza boxes and underwear? Seriously, man, if you don’t enforce a law against that kind of nasty, sick, disgusting…”

“I get the picture,” Michael cut him off before he could actually get the full picture from Nick’s descriptions.

Nick grunted again and grudgingly continued with his report. “Well, anyway, it looks like the guy took off. I don’t think this is one of his usual drug-run attempts, though, because his cell phone, stash, and car are still there. Much as I hate to admit it, I think our little criminal might have finally gotten into more trouble than he could handle.”

Michael glanced over at his father, knowing he had heard every word of the conversation. His dad had a tight-lipped, grim expression on his face and nodded, telling Michael that this situation did indeed call for a search party. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he couldn’t put off this search. He’d already been neglecting some of his duties as Alpha in his search for his mate. He had to take care of the business at hand first.

“Call Joseph.
We’ll meet in one hour at Stephen’s apartment to pick up his trail. Have Dennis question anyone else Stephen might have talked to or been around before he left. See if he can’t dig up anything on our favourite criminal.” Michael hung up the phone after getting Nick’s customary grunt of assent,
then
turned back to his dad. There was a look of apprehension on his face that made Michael nervous. “What are you thinking?”

“I’ve just got a strange feeling about this hunt.” Sam lived by his instincts, just as he had taught him to do, so if his father was having misgivings about the situation, Michael wasn’t about to ignore them. “Do what you have to do, but I want you to be careful on this one.” He dropped the CD on his desk and stood up.

Sam made sure to catch his son’s gaze to emphasise his point. “Contact me in no more than two days. After that, I’ll send out my own search party.”

His father was out of his office and closing the front door to his house before he could question his cryptic warning. Michael was a seasoned tracker and fighter, as were all three of his Betas. They had learnt from the best, having had all of their fathers as trainers and Sam’s personal Betas as instructors as well, so for his father to warn him about a simple find-and-recovery mission didn’t bode well for him or his men.

* * * *

“Jade!
You done with them horses yet?”

Kaden
had long since become used to responding to the name Jade, which he had given himself in order to keep his identity hidden. He cringed at the rough, Texan accent of Jim, one of the seasonal stable hands.

He leaned in to the firm flank of Mockingbird, wanting to disappear into her strong muscles and absorb some of the mare’s strength into his own body, but he knew that was impossible. Just as he knew that Jim wouldn’t stop harassing him until he was acknowledged.

Kaden
pushed away from Mockingbird’s quivering flesh, not wanting more of his nervousness to be projected into the horse’s gentle being, and filled her bail with oats before exiting her stall.

He kept his head lowered, hoping that by some miracle Jim wouldn’t notice him, and continued on to the front of the stable house to oil the harnesses and saddles. By this time, the rest of the workers had gathered in the main house for the evening meal.

The swagger of Jim’s footsteps behind him was unmistakable and he tensed his body against the unwanted advances he knew were coming.