Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Five

Havermouth, Present Time

“We should talk about the river house,” Heath said as they dried off after the shower.

She ignored him and concentrated on drying her hair. She didn’t want to talk about it. She had said all that she wanted to say on the topic, and if she said any more, she knew that it would just start another argument.

“Aislen,” he sat on the bed to put on his shoes. “I know that…”

“Heath,” she flicked her hair back. “Don’t. Just don’t. Rhett had a go at me yesterday about accepting that Havermouth is my home and that I’m not going back to Kabramatta, and you guys have raised several times going to stay at the river house. You can’t bully me into it, and you need to stop trying to do so.”

His grey eyes met hers and she held them stubbornly, refusing to back down. He nodded slowly. “We are your mates,” he said softly.

She inhaled and released it slowly. “I love you,” she told him. “I love the three of you. I want to try to make something of this relationship. I am staying in Havermouth to give it a go. I understand that the river house is bigger and more luxurious and that one bathroom between six people is about five bathrooms too few, so the river house has that advantage but,” she swallowed back the rise of panic.

“I am not ready to go back to the river house or agree to anything else,” she plunged onwards bravely. “The three of you still override and ignore me, back me into corners, and try to force me to do things your way, and I’m not having it. Whilst I’m in my house, with my car, and I have my apartment in Kabramatta, I could leave at any time, and you know that, so that balances out the power between us. Don’t ask for more from me right now. What happens when you have all the power is still as fresh as the tattoos on my skin.”

He opened his mouth, but his phone rang, and he grimaced looking down at it. “I have to take this. We’ll talk more about this when I’m done, okay?”

“Okay.” Nope, she thought to herself, they would not talk more about it. She’d had her say, and if he tried to bully her, she’d kick him and the Triquetra out of her house to cool their heels and rethink their attitudes for a few days.

“August,” Heath said, putting the phone to his ear as he stood. His sigh was frustrated, and he walked out of the bedroom to the front door. “The timing isn’t…” The front door closed behind him.

Aislen watched Heath pace by the bedroom window. He was scowling and running his fingers through his short, blonde hair. She could not hear the words, but his tone left her in no doubt that he was angry – with the content of the call, or because of their conversation, she wasn’t sure.

She was right, she told herself. If she let them persuade her to return to the river house, if she agreed to stay and made that commitment, she knew that they would slowly fall back into old habits, and bit by bit they’d try to force her into fitting into what they wanted, what worked for the pack. Talen would protect her, but he would also be outnumbered by them, and she didn't want to know what that would lead to…

No, she wasn’t ready to return to the river house or to agree to anything other than to give it time. She could give it time, and see what happened, and that had to be enough for the time being.

She made the bed, picked up discarded clothing and put it into the hamper, and wiped down the armoire, dressing table and mirror whilst she shamelessly attempted to eavesdrop before giving up and wandering down to the kitchen where Tyler was making breakfast.

“Smells yummy,” she said.

“Scrambled eggs with parsley, lots and lots of fresh parsley, wilted spinach, mushroom, and tomato,” Tyler told her over his shoulder. “And I’m brewing coffee.”

“You know the way to a girl’s heart,” she said, sitting down at the table eagerly as he served. “I am starving!”

“Talen’s orders,” he said sitting across from her and passing her the salt and pepper. “Three square meals of real food every day, plus an hour of exercise. My TV and pizza holiday is over,” he pouted. “I’m starting to taste like pepperoni, apparently.”

She snickered. “Has to be one of the weirdest jobs. So, what do you do for a living? Well, I’m a snack food.”

Tyler almost sprayed his coffee, but managed to swallow it, his eyes watering. “Don’t you mean that you’re the snack food, and I’m the main meal?” He grinned.

“I’m dessert,” she corrected with a smirk. "An aphrodisiac."

“I have to go,” Heath entered the kitchen and leaned over to brush a kiss over Aislen’s forehead. “My father is causing shit, and the Triquetra has been called in to meet with August and Abigail to discuss… Well, things,” he said.

“Me,” she filled in the blank resentfully.

“Yes. You,” he admitted wryly. “Stay with Tyler, don’t go anywhere, keep your head down, and stay out of trouble.”

“Sure, because there’s so much trouble that I can get into here,” Aislen replied. He arched an eyebrow. “I’ll be good, I promise,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll do the dishes, and then have a nap. Can’t get into trouble when I’m snoozing. I won’t even go out onto the porch.”

“I will be back as soon as I can,” Heath said. “And I’ll ring Talen and let him know I had to leave so that if he can get away from whatever he’s doing and get back before us, he will…” He paused in the doorway, looking back at them, his expression worried. “I don’t like leaving you, and leaving things half discussed between us…”

“Well, you can’t really take me,” she pointed out, unhappily. “And you can’t really not go either, can you?”

“No,” he agreed with a sigh. “I need to go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got Tyler here and I’m sure Talen won’t be long, we’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be mad, Aislen,” he murmured.

“I’m not,” she lied. “We’ll talk about it when you get back. Maybe.” Not if she could avoid it, she decided.

“Okay. I love you.”

She sighed. “I love you too.”

“I’ll call Talen,” he nodded and had his phone to his ear as he headed down the hallway. She heard him lock the front door behind him.

“I’ll do the dishes,” Tyler said, deliberately not commenting on the argument. “If you want to go have a nap?”

“I don’t really,” she told him. “That was just to stop Heath from stressing. I might do some work. My publisher is going nuts about my deadline, and I can’t blame him. I’ve never been this far behind before. I’ll do the dishes first though…” She stood and collected the dirty dishes into a pile, carrying them over to the sink whilst Tyler finished the last mouthful of coffee.

She filled the sink and began to do the washing.

“I was looking through your art book the other day,” Tyler said unapologetically. “You’re very good.”

“Thanks. I love it. I am lucky that I get to do what I love for work--” The doorbell interrupted her.

“I’ll get it,” Tyler stood. “You’ve got wet hands.”

She suspected that was an excuse, and that Talen or the Triquetra had told him not to let her answer the door in case it was another unpleasant delivery. The doorbell rang again as he made his way down the hall. “Alright, alright,” he called out. “I’m coming. Keep your pants on…”

She heard the door open, and then a muffled thud, before it closed again. There was a long pause. “Who was it?” She called out. There was no reply. “Tyler?” She heard footsteps down the hall. “Is everything okay, Tyler? Who was at the door…?” She turned and froze.

Chris Arren stood, blocking her in the the kitchen. He held an odd-looking gun in his hand.

“Hello, Aislen.”