Destined Bear (Windridge Den #3)

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Patrick

I tossed and turned all night. Knowing that Finn was hurting hurt me, and not being able to fix it… that had me wanting to give myself over to my bear and hide away. The problem with hiding was that everything was still there when you were found, unless you were found by my father, because in that case, you had the addition of being bled to the mix.

I was awake hours before I usually was and was five coffees in before I walked to the diner to begin my day. I threw myself into my work, prepping for the day in the most labor-intense ways. Did I even pretend to turn on the dishwasher? Nope. Doing the manual labor was good for me. It kept me busy and distracted.

My bear was restless beneath the surface. I thought it was because he hadn’t slept well. I was wrong. It wasn’t until 8:30 rolled around and Finn hadn’t arrived that I suspected why.

The clock clicked by so slowly. 8:40: still no Finn. 8:50: his booth was empty. He’d been late the day before, when his brother called. I tried to convince myself that the same thing happened again. But my gut knew better—my bear knew better.

At nine, I caved and called Aydan. More than anything, I wanted to run to Finn to make sure he was okay, but that wasn’t my place—it was Aydan’s.

Still, as the phone rang, it took everything I had not to shift and search the territory for Finn.

“Something happened to Finn.” I had nothing to base this on. Still, I led with it.

“No, he’s fine. I just left his house.”

I took a measured breath, my bear wanting to roar, even though this was my Alpha.

“He’s all right? Unharmed?” That didn’t explain his absence, but it didn’t need to. That wasn’t my business.

“Yes, of course he is. He’s taking some time off work.” That didn’t sound like him. “Other than that, he’s fine.”

“He didn’t show up to the diner this morning.”

Aiden chuckled, and my hackles rose. “Months ago, you were complaining that he was taking up a table in your diner all day with his laptop. Now you’re upset that he’s not there. Pick one.”

I had picked one, even then. I never wanted him not there, I’d just been foolish enough to think it would be easier if he wasn’t. His absence today called my bluff. He belonged here.

“You promise that he’s all right?”

“He’s fine, Patrick. If you’re that concerned, why don’t you go see him?” He said it as if it was no big deal. It was a huge deal.

What would I even say? Yesterday I’d barely been able to make casual conversation with him. I simply handed him a cinnamon roll, mumbled a few words that basically told him to seek comfort elsewhere, and walked away.

I hung up the phone, knowing I’d have to apologize later for my behavior. There wasn’t anything I could say that would’ve been better anyway. I went back to work.

My bear wouldn’t settle.

The hours crawled by, and both Stacy and Archer mentioned missing Finn. If they thought they were being helpful, they were dead wrong. I just grunted in response—what else was there to say?

Technically, it wasn’t even my business why Finn wasn’t here, so I wasn’t about to tell them he’d taken some time off work. Was he ill? Tired? Just wanting a vacation? Did he have a side project he was working on? None of those were things I’d get answers to.

When the lunch rush ended and I’d finished cleaning up, I tossed my apron into the hamper and left. I didn’t even tell Archer and Stacy I was going. They’d figure it out soon enough.

I didn’t even bother going into my house. I just walked around to the back, tossed my clothes onto the deck, and shifted to my bear form. I needed to run. Our territory was set up so that we were surrounded by woods. Most of our homes backed up against the tree line so that anyone could shift from their back deck and take off—and that was exactly what I did.

My bear roared, his cry more agony that fierce. He was feeling this harder than I was. My job was to comfort him, to let him know that everything would be fine. Except I couldn’t. I was just as scared as he was.

I needed to burn off some energy, so what would usually be a lazy stroll through the woods and into the stream became a full-on run. A few animals scurried past. On a normal day, I might take that as a challenge. Not today.

The sound of the stream called to me, and instead of checking for fish at the bank, I jumped right in, the water splashing in the air. It was cold, winter here, but I didn’t feel it. The pain in not knowing if Finn was okay overshadowed ever other sensation.

Still, I let the cold water wash over me hoping it would do something—anything. Of course, none of it alleviated the irritation simmering just below the surface of my skin, like an itch I couldn’t scratch, all because I hadn’t laid eyes on Finn today. How ridiculous, how pathetic, that I was so needy.

You’re worthless, Pat. Don’t ever forget that.

I let myself curl up near the stream, batting at the water and teasing the trout that swam there. I wasn’t hungry. There were safe from my bear today.

Did Finn like to fish in his bear form? Who didn’t? Would he be impressed if I brought him some fish? Should I catch them all and deliver them to his doorstep?

No. Why would I even think of doing that? Why was I even thinking of him like this? Finn deserved an alpha who could bring him all the fish in the world, sure, but there were so many more things he needed that I wasn’t capable of.

You’re worthless, Pat. Don’t ever forget that.

Finally, once I’d exhausted myself and knew I had to get back in case I had Beta responsibilities to handle, I forced myself up and made the short walk back to my house. The woods were quiet and peaceful. My head? Not so much.

It would’ve been a perfect day to take a walk with one’s mate. Of course, that thought made me think of Finn. I thought of him so much that I swore I scented him in the air.

When I looked up at my deck as I came out of the woods, I saw why.

There, sitting on my back deck, was Finn, knees hugged against his chest. The bitter taste of sadness lingered in the air around him as it had the day before. I lumbered forward. His gaze lifted and met mine, and he bit at his lower lip.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.