To Love a Stray Ch. 21

For those readers who have asked how far along Rosy is in her pregnancy the answer is 30 weeks give or take a day. That means she has 10 weeks until the baby or should I say Kitt is due.

I will add a quick note for those who keep complaining about my use of the word yous. In Australia this word is often used as a plural of you when 2 or more people are involved and in times of stress Rosy tends to fall back into the poor grammar of her childhood.

Please take the time to comment. Looking forward to seeing what readers think,

Mygypsy

NOTE: speech in 'single brackets' is Rosy's inner cat talking to her.

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Rosy

I feel numb and strangely detached as I stare at my hands where they are clasped in my lap. I am aware of the movement of the vehicle I am in, but it fails to disturb me as I am taken further and further away from where I once lived. I know I should protest, that I should fight, but the voice urging me to fight is a very faint whisper in the back of my mind.

A large hand comes into my line of vision and clasps one of my hands gently, the fingers firmly interlacing with mine.

I don't move. I don't react. I feel his touch but it means nothing to me. I don't turn my head to look at him. It would have no meaning for me if I did. The wrongness of it fills me. The wrong tom, and heading in the wrong direction.

I reach out with my mind seeking comfort and reassurance but I come up against a wall of anger and hurt. Anguish so deep it bleeds through into me and I squeeze my eyes shut against the tears that well in them burning fiercely. Pain burns in my chest like a raw wound. Each breath, each heartbeat, sending a throb of agony through me.

I've been hurt before, but never something as soul destroying as this. My chest burns and there is a buzzing in my ears and I gasp in pain. Oxygen flows into my lungs and blood stream making me realise I had been holding my breath.

I become aware of a voice murmuring quietly to me, arms cradling me gently against another body. Horror shoots through me, No! I won't think about her...it!

I blink as I focus on the eyes watching me with concern, the brown quickly becomes a dirty green and the golden flecks loose their clearness and brightness until a mottled grey/ green remains.

"Breathe Rosy, breathe," His breath brushes the hair at my temple and I blink as I turn my face away from his and into his chest.

His scent is all wrong. It's not the one I crave, the one I need. I close my eyes and inhale deeply forcing myself to memorise the personal smell but another flows through my mind and I press the knuckles of one hand to my mouth to stop my scream of pain.

I pull my mind and consciousness from the depths of my soul and shudder as her screams of pain rips through me. Claws rend and shred, sharp teeth bite and tear while her feline form writhes in agony. She fights my control, snarls and screeches at me but I am relentless. She refuses to submit and I am left staring into her vivid violet eyes.

'He is mine ...'

I see the black form she flashes at me. I recognise him instantly.

I remember him in human form, the emotion in his eyes as he spoke to me. His personal scent, what it felt like to be held by him, the sound of his voice. Gently, regretfully, I remember him turning away, his doubts, his insecurities, his lack of trust and faith in me.

'Micah!'

Her cry of disbelief ripples through me followed by her low moan of loss.

'We loved him!' her thought fills my mind as she accepts he turned away from us.

You loved him. I knew we could trust no-one. I can only rely on myself. No one else will keep me safe. I learnt that long ago. I tell her silently.

'You never trusted him to keep us safe!' She accuses. 'You never gave him the chance!'

I see her disgusted look before she turns away and retreats to a dark corner of my mind. I feel her curl up in a tight little ball pulling her tail up around her body as if it is a shield she can use to separate us.

She'd been so quiet and peaceful for so many months I had almost forgotten this power struggle between us. I had even conned myself into believing she was content with the way I let her emerge so frequently even though I control her every move most of the time.

His face flashes into my mind unbidden and I grit my teeth as I force it from my mind. I hear her faint grunt of annoyance, she wants to think of him, remember him.

I give her a spiteful little poke to remind her who is boss. She opens one eye to glare at me balefully for a moment before she shuts her eye and ignores me. I consider goading her again but leave her alone. I know she will make me pay for that small attack, she always does.

My body feels heavy and slightly detached from my mind as I open my eyes and glance towards the window. The blur of the passing scenery makes me feel lightheaded and I close my eyes as I give my head a slight shake to clear it. The heat inside the vehicle makes it hard to open my eyes and I rub them irritably.

'We're going to sleep while we're in the light plane so why bother fighting it?'

I pull myself from the depths of my own mind, away from the werecat that lives inside me. Away from the memories and thoughts that are too painful to examine. I become aware that a strange lethargy is weighing down my limbs and my mind is hazy with a hated familiar thickness.

"You bitch! You let them drug me!" I scream as I struggle to sit upright away from the warm body I am leaning on.

I struggle and lash out at the blurry form I can see. I feel my fists connect but I am unable to judge the strength of my blows. Something solid brushes against my face and I turn my head and bite down hard, clamping my teeth around something that gives slightly.

"Shit!" The voice is masculine and the scent in my nose belongs to a clan cat.

I jerk my head back sharply only to find whatever I am biting is being pressed hard against my lips. My breathing is impaired as my nose is pinched closed and I am forced to release my grip as I open my mouth to breathe. I struggle briefly but find I am swiftly sinking beneath the murkiness of whatever drug I was given.

'Time you learnt who is really in charge ... '

Even as I sink into the welcoming depths of sleep I realise I am in for a fight against the evil that lives inside me.

* * * * * *

Micah

I open the door and walk into the quarters, I can't help remembering that the fly screen on the door has been replaced several times because Rosy has ripped it when rushing inside or outside as a cat. That set of four long scratches in the floor just inside the door are hers, probably made as she leapt through an unbroken screen.

I glance around the lounge room as I enter and head for the kitchen, there's no trace of her. The room is unusually clean, the pillows gone from the lounge and mattresses outside in the warm sunshine airing out.

I don't need to be told this all being done for my benefit. There'll be no lingering scent from where she has sat or stretched out to sleep. It will be as if she never lived here.

Except for the phantom in my mind, her voice calling out to me.

Micah, we need you, we love you.

Mitchell, Sam, Steven, Dwayne, Justin and Donovan are in the kitchen along with Stephan Willoughby. Everyone is watching as I walk into the room.

"Hallo Micah," Stephan says as he steps forward to shake my hand.

"Stephan," My voice feels slightly strange, as if it doesn't belong to me. Maybe its because I spent nearly forty-eight hours or a bit more in cat form. I'd only changed back so I would be there when Jazzy was told how our parents fared.

"Hey partner," Steven's voice is quiet and I nod my acknowledgement.

"Jazzy is over in the main house," Mitchell says. "She would like to speak to you and Dwayne as soon as possible."

"I'll go see what she wants," I acknowledge and head for the door.

"Micah, wait a moment," Steven calls as I step outside into the sunshine.

"You want something?" I ask as I turn and face him.

Dwayne steps past me and I hear him stop a few paces away.

"Just wanted to let you know I'm here whenever you might feel the need to talk," Steven says quietly. "Anything, everything, whatever you want to talk about."

I guess he is the only one who understands how I feel about Rosy well enough to have any idea of what loosing Rosy has done to me.

I give a nod and a faint smile, my very soul hurts too much to do more before I turn and head for the main house.

"We need to watch our backs at least for a while," Dwayne says as he falls into step beside me. "There is the likelyhood a few of the clans are not going to be too friendly towards us because of what Wade and Edwin done."

"That doesn't surprise me," I say flatly.

"Wade is barely alive, whipped and castrated." Dwayne says emotionlessly. "Marissa is a mess, she's had a total break down. Kurt Black and Sam said she couldn't be held responsible for not trying to stop Wade because of how worried she was over Jazzy at the time. And apparently Sam had some choice words for Edwin,"

"What, he got off with the beating Sam already gave him and loosing a ball?" I ask bitterly. "What about ..."

I stop the tirade I am about to unleash and grit my teeth as I continue towards the main house. I don't want to think about Rosy, don't want to talk about her or what happened but I can't get it out of my mind. And her turning to Edwin when I asked her why she couldn't love me ... I think that sight, the way it had ripped my heart and soul from my body, will stay with me until I draw my last breath.

"I don't know how Jazzy will take what has happened to Wade and Marissa," I say tightly.

"She already knows," Dwayne says. "I rang last night. I told Mitchell, he told everyone else a few at a time and then he told Jazzy so everyone was there to support her."

"I should have been there! I should have been the one to tell her!" I say as stop and turn to face Dwayne.

"You had your own shit to deal with," Dwayne says quietly as he walks past me.

I take a deep breath to argue then shake my head before following him. Last night I had been trying to loose my own pain as I ran as a cat. A strained laugh escapes me as I remember how Rosy used to do the same thing, escape into cat form, when things were too hard.

Damn! She's everywhere and in everything!

"Abigail and Celeste are with her aren't they?" I ask not totally sure myself.

"Yeah, Stephan, Aunt Abby, Steven and Celeste came over late yesterday afternoon when word began to spread about the hearing. The clan still has a few friends," Dwayne answers quietly. "And some previous friends who are sitting on the fence at the moment. Though Mitchell said he has received several nasty calls telling him to keep our warriors off certain territories."

"Good, she'll need some help to get ready for her wedding," I say almost to myself.

"Mal Inness spoke to me before I headed home," Dwayne says quietly as we reach the back door of the house. "He has asked Malcolm and Chris to formally represent their Birth Clan."

"He's not coming?" I ask dryly.

Any Alpha failing to send some representative from their clan would be showing a lack of support and respect for Jazzy and Mitchell.

"Mal said he had some pressing business to attend to and isn't sure if he will be finished in time to make it to the wedding," Dwayne explains. "If he doesn't make it he will be visiting as soon as he can."

The kitchen and dining rooms are empty and I glance around, coloured post-it stamps are on most items of furniture in every room we have walked through.

"Jazzy?" Dwayne calls.

"In my room," Jazzy calls back.

I walk towards the hallway and hesitate for a moment before turning towards Jazzy's room. It is in the opposite direction to where Sam, Mitchell, my brothers and I had shared rooms growing up.

The memory of how Rosy had looked that very first night I had carried her into the house unconscious from a high fever and a severe infection fills my mind. My steps slow and I find myself stopping as I fight the urge to go and make sure she isn't in one of the rooms ill. I know it is an irrational feeling but I can't shake the uneasy feeling something is wrong with her.

"Micah?"

I look towards the sound of the voice startled. Jazzy is standing in her doorway watching me with a worried frown on her face. Dwayne is beside her, which is odd because I don't remember him walking past me. I realise this is the first time I have seen my sister since I stormed out of the quarters two days ago. The first time since she had told Rosy, my Rosy, she was no longer welcome here.

"Micah?"

There is a thread of fear in the worry in her voice and I force a smile onto my face as I open my arms.

"Jazzy," I say and close my arms around her when she flings herself into my arms.

"Come on, let's all go to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee," Jazzy says when she finally pulls back from our hug.

"What, not tea and scones?" I ask referring to Marissa's fix all before I think properly.

"No," Jazzy says forcing a smile. "I prefer coffee. I am sure there are cold cuts or something in the fridge if you need to eat,"

"I hunted earlier," I say quietly. I don't tell her I had only eaten a few bites before leaving the small kangaroo and resuming my wandering.

In the kitchen Jazzy directs us to chairs as she and Abigail Willoughby check the percolator and put big mugs out by the sugar and milk.

"Aunt Abby, nice to see you," I say as I walk over to brush a kiss on her cheek.

"It's always good to see all of you here," Abby says gently as she pats the back of one of my hands.

I force a polite smile and turn away, I am not in any frame of mind to make polite small talk.

"Hi Celeste," I greet her as she hangs back a bit.

Her hair is brushed forward and she peeks at me from the corner of one eye as she pauses in looking in the cupboard.

"Hallo Micah," Her voice is soft and slightly husky as she fiddles with her hair almost nervously.

The warm chocolate brown of her eye glitters behind the inky black curtain of her hair and I find myself giving her a genuine smile. I don't know what it is about her but something touches my bruised and battered heart making me pleased to see her.

Celeste blushes deeply and drops her gaze as she turns away. I am startled by the hard jab Dwayne gives me between my shoulders blades and I turn my head to glare at him as I sit down.

"You wanted to talk to both Micah and I?" Dwayne asks as Jazzy settles into her seat after handing us our mugs of coffee.

"As you both know I am getting married this afternoon," Jazzy says with a serious look. "Wade isn't here to give me away, and considering what Edwin done Mitchell doesn't want him anywhere near me. He still is my brother but ... Edwin isn't welcome either far as I am concerned."

"But you'd be fine with Wade being here if he was able?" I ask tightly. The past few days has left me dealing with a lot of anger and hurt I'd had no idea I was harbouring. I had known I was angry over what had taken place but I'd had no idea just how deeply the rage and pain had gone, now it was all coming to the surface and I was trying to deal with it.

"Actually, no I wouldn't," Jazzy says sounding slightly surprised. "He is my father and I still love him as such, but I lost all respect for him when I learnt what had happened."

There is silence while Jazzy takes several deep breaths. She looks from person to person around the table before staring directly into my eyes.

"You're not the only one who was hurt in all of this," She says firmly. "All of us have lost something to different degrees. Edwin is no longer welcome in the family he grew up in, Justin and Donny consider Wade no better than those rogues who kidnapped Donny and Rosy ..."

I draw in a deep breath sharply at the sound of her name, just to hear it hurts.

"I lost my father, every girl measures the men in her life against her hero, her daddy! You and Dwayne are left to clean up his mess, and the entire clan is still in shock," Jazzy continues firmly. "We all hurt but we have to put this behind us and get on with life,"

I watch her as I fight to keep my composure. It's hard not to throw at her I had lost more than everyone else, but this conversation isn't about me, it's about my sister and her wedding.

"Tell us what you want," I invite gently.

"I want both of you to walk me up the aisle," Jazzy states firmly. "I respect and admire both of you and don't want to try to choose one above the other, so, both of you can give me away."

The thought of seeing Rosy again hits hard. My inner cat stirs anxiously and I shake my head to dispel the uncomfortable combination of excitement and dread.

"She won't be here, neither Mitchell nor I have invited her." Jazzy's firmly spoken comment makes something twist painfully in my chest and I look at her shocked.

'She' is Mitchell's sister! Not to invite her to his wedding is ... is unthinkable!

"You think I wouldn't be able to handle seeing her again?" The accusation bursts from me.

"There are more than just your feelings to consider," Dwayne cuts in. "Besides, ever think she might not want to come back here? Even for Mitchell's wedding?"

I get to my feet and move to the sink and gaze out the window above it. The large Morton Bay Figtree is in full view and it brings back another memory of Rosy.

Beautiful, proud, defiant Rosy, descending from the tree at my demand when she had been set up to look disobedient by Wade. In my mind I see the ghost of my memory of her, flowing forward in a smooth deadly stalk. The image is so clear, so lifelike.

I jerk my head sharply as I turn away from the window, I glance down at my feet avoiding the eyes I know are sure to be watching me.

"I won't give you away," I say seriously and smile gently at my sister's shocked gasp. "But I will hand you into Mitchell's care for your future with him. You'll always be my sister, you don't get rid of me that easy."

"Micah!" Jazzy's response comes breathlessly, nervously.

"I want only the best for you Jazzy," I tell her with a fond smile.

The spectre of Rosy retreats to the back of my mind but I can't help the feeling she would have approved of my choice of words. I force myself to keep the smile on my face as Celeste and Abby murmur quietly to Jazzy. I catch the sober expression on Dwayne's face and he gives a nod as he meets my gaze.

"I like the sound of that," Dwayne drawls quietly. "Handing our sister into the care of her husband, not 'giving her away'."

"That's my take on it," I admit.

"That sounds so sweet," Celeste murmurs very quietly and I glance her way.

Celeste's behaviour is a bit of a surprise as she has always been outgoing and friendly, never this shy and reserved around anyone that I can remember. Maybe it is simply because this is Jazzy's wedding day and Celeste doesn't want to draw any attention away from her friend.

"I hope you're not planning on making us dress up in a suit and tie for this," Dwayne says dryly.

"Dress pants, shirt and a tie. And don't complain," Jazzy scolds. "I know you two have clothes that match, navy blue pants and white shirts. I've already taken the liberty of having them dry-cleaned,"

"I guess everything is sorted then," I say as I glance back at Jazzy.

"One more thing," Jazzy says and looks down.

I follow her gaze to see her watching her fingers toy with an orange post-it stuck to the table.

"Last night Mitchell and I discussed him and I moving into here," Jazzy says before lifting her head and glancing between Dwayne and I.

"I've marked a lot of the furniture with post-its. Each different colour has a different meaning. Yellow is storage, orange will go in the small cabin that will be built and other colours have their own meanings." Jazzy says evenly.