Second Fate

32

Vine's POV

"I'm saying that I'll try and make my wife focus on something other than this nonsensical feud you've started."

The old wooden floorboards creaked as I stepped into the small office which Neal had crammed into the room next to the front door. An old-fashioned desk, two chairs and a bookcase pushed the limits of what this space could hold in furniture, but the sunlight streaming in through the big window prevented one from feeling suffocated.

Not that I was in here a lot, I preferred to work with my hands – and I didn't get into much trouble with our alpha.

"We haven't started anything. Originally, we wanted to settle this matter in a peaceful manner", corrected Neal his visitor calmly. I knew this tone of voice well; it was reserved for people who tested his patience.

Luckily his irritation wasn't directed at me but at a tall, dark-haired man sitting in the opposite chair. He had placed his hands on the armrests as if he was comfortable and in control of the situation, but the tapping of his foot gave away how uneasy Neal's presence made him.

The visitor turned to me with a raised eyebrow, and I blinked in surprise. So that's the reason why I was called into this meeting.

"Vine, tell me your thoughts about this", James Montgomery demanded to know. His hazel gaze settled onto the scar on my face instead of my eyes. People always thought I couldn't tell, but I knew. "I think my wife had some reason to be upset, don't you? She felt a need to defend the pack."

To my own surprise, I found no forgiving words for Meredith's behavior. All I could see, when I thought of her, was Rhett as he had stood between Nina and me on the first floor of the mansion; as he had stood above her, one boot on her bruised throat. My blood threatened to boil over, forcing me into a half-change, so I took a deep breath to collect myself.

Then I continued my silence until Mr Montgomery cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Not important, is it now? I understand your desire to move on from this whole ... matter. And I'd like to help with it, so that our lives can get back to normal."

Neal gestured for me to find a comfortable standing position – in lack of a third chair –, and I settled into a leaning position on the wall between the two men. From here, I could watch them both. Especially our visitor, who'd returned his jittery attention to Neal.

Despite James' tall build, the forty-something had been born with a limp and a severe lack of talent for combat. My respect for him had been unbroken by those facts since James had always added a calm rationality to situations where his wife and daughter had been quick to shoot. If one of the Montgomerys were to come to us for a reasonable discussion about what had happened, it would naturally be him.

But where had he been so far – and why was he interested in his wife's affairs all of a sudden?

Neal nodded at the man. "I'm glad to hear that. However, the congregation won't take you back simply because you've decided to let this feud go."

"I'm aware", James replied with a grimace, "but we need to start somewhere. And perhaps they're open to talks if Meredith is ... not as much at the helm as she's been so far."

"I understand."

I didn't, so I called out: "Why haven't you kept her from doing any of this if you're able to? Why now?"

The atmosphere in the room became heavy as Neal and I stared at James, expectant of an explanation of some sort.

The balding man wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. "It's not easy for me to stand up to her. I mean, she barely tolerates me at times. So, there's ... a condition for my help."