Chapter 237


    #Chapter 237 – What a Mess


    Before me, surrounded by what looks like a dozen empty pizza boxes and at least six drained bottles of


    whiskey, Rafe is dead asleep on his belly, spread across my living room rug.


    “Oh my god,” Alvin whispers eagerly, his hands pressed to his mouth. “Is he dead?”


    “No he’s not dead,” I scold, giving my son a reproachful look as I stalk towards my mate’s brother.


    Inwardly, I pray that it’s not a lie. What the hell happened to this man?


    Ian is next to me as I kneel down beside Rafe, putting Archie down and looking closely at Rafe’s chest


    face and back to make sure that he’s breathing. I give a little sigh of relief when I see that he’s not


    dead, justpletely passed out.


    “He smells terrible,” Ian whispers, wrinkling his nose. Even Archie dashes away, eager to get away


    from Rafe’s terrible stale whiskey breath. I study Rafe, seeing that his face is covered in several days-


    worth of stubble and that he has dark circles under his eyes.


    “What’s wrong with him?” Alvin asks,ing to peer at him as well, looking at his uncle like he’s a in


    insect that’s very interesting precisely because of how gross it is.


    “Uncle Rafe got into the whiskey,” I say, standing up and crossing my arms as I re down at him.


    Normally I wouldn’t care if I found someone passed out on my floor after a rough night of drinking – I’d


    be more inclined to cover them up with a nket and put a pillow under their head than scold them. But


    Rafe hasn’t precisely been in my good gracestely, has he?


    “Is whiskey bad?” Alvin asks, curious, looking up at me.


    “Whiskey is gross,” I reply casually.


    “But daddy drinks whiskey,” Ian points out, frowning up at me from his ce crouched by Rafe’s side.


    “Yeah well,” I consider, tilting my head to the side. “Daddy just drinks whiskey because he thinks it


    makes him look manly. Secretly, he just wants a pina cda like the rest of us.”


    “Hey,” Victor says from the door, frowning at me. “Do not lie to our children – whiskey is a rich and


    complicated…”


    But he forgets what he was saying as I step aside to give him a view of his brother passed out on the


    floor.


    “This one is yours to clean up,” I chirp, giving my mate a bright smile as I walk into the kitchen. As I go,


    Alvin kneels by his uncle’s side and pokes him experimentally in the cheek, fascinated when he doesn’t


    move at all. Victor sighs, running his hand down his face as he walks into the living room, staring at his


    brother.


    I head for the fridge, wanting a ss of water, but I stop when I see a little note with our names on it


    folded neatly on the kitchen table. I reach for it, curious, and flip it open.


    Apologies –


    I cannot stay in this home any longer. Master Rafe has be too much. Please understand that this


    is not a reflection of my dedication to you and your family. Notify me upon your return so that I may


    come back.


    Affectionately,


    Burton


    I raise my eyebrows, cing the note back on the table where Victor will find it, and continue my


    journey to the fridge. As I pour myself a cool ss of water, I consider that I’m not surprised that Burton


    has left – he shouldn’t have to put up with his boss’s brother acting like an i***t. But it does make me


    wonder how long this went on – Burton is not easily flustered. If Rafe really was too much, then how


    long did…


    I hear a groan from the living room and look to see that Victor has turned Rafe onto his back. The boys


    giggle as Victor lightly ps Rafe’s cheeks, trying to get him toe to. Alvin and Ian stand over them


    both, fascinated and gleeful as they wait for Rafe to wake up.


    I do nothing to stop them. If Rafe is embarrassed to appear so before his nephews, it’s no fault but his


    own. Also, if Alvin and Ian learn a little lesson about what happens when you drink too much…well,


    that’s all for the better.


    Rafe groans again as Victor calls his name, pressing his eyes more tightly shut and turning his face


    towards the floor.


    “Uncle Rafe!” Alvin shouts,ughing above him. “Get up! You need a bath!”


    Rafe seems to start at the sound of his nephew’s voice, and then his eyes sh open. I lean against my


    kitchen counter, watching discreetly from a distance.


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    “Wha –“ he says, looking around at the three of them. “You’re –“


    “We’re back,” Victor finishes for him. “And you’re a mess.”


    Rafe groans and works to sit up, but then he falls on his back, his face turning a little green. “Oh my


    god,” he murmurs, bringing a hand to his head. “I think I need a bucket…”


    “He’s gonna blow!” Ian shrieks, making Rafe flinch. Both boys jump on the couch,ughing gleefully,


    apparently trying to stay out of the ssh zone.


    Victor takes a step away from his brother. “What the hell Rafe?” he scolds, disappointed. “What


    happened to you? We go away for a couple of weeks –“


    “I thought you were dead, Victor,” Rafe insists, rolling onto his side to re at his Alpha. “There was no


    word from you – that Beta reported that you ran out of food –“


    “And so what,” Victor scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. I smile to see him do it, admiring the way


    it makes the muscles in his arms swell. “You had aplete meltdown? Decided to drink yourself to


    death? And apparently threw a…” he looks around, confused, at all of the empty greasy boxes, “a pizza


    party? What the hell, man?”


    I sip my water calmly, pleased to see Rafe take his medicine a bit. He deserves far worse than a


    scolding.


    “I was mourning!” Rafe groans, putting his head back on the floor, clearly a little angry to be called out


    and embarrassed to be found like this. “Don’t tell me how to mourn – you left me alone in this world –“


    “And this was your reaction!” Victor starts to react a little. “To get wasted? Did even ur to you that


    even if I was dead, that my sons might not be? That the next logical thing to do would be to go into the


    woods and try to find them, to raise them so that they could inherit the pack? Or, even if you didn’t want


    to do that, to – I don’t know – actually make some effort to run the pack yourself?”


    Rafe doesn’t reply and instead turns back onto his belly, his face buried in the rug, clearly ashamed of


    himself.


    After a minute, Victor gives Rafe a not-too-gentle nudge with his foot. “Well?” he pushes, “what do you


    have to say for yourself?”


    Rafe says nothing and Ian giggles behind him on the couch. “Uncle Rafe’s gonna get grounded,” he


    whispers loudly to Alvin. Alvinughs gleefully back to his brother and Rafe turns his head a little to


    re at them.


    Then, slowly, Rafe pushes himself up until he’s on his knees, looking down at his hands that are


    pressed against his thighs. “You’re right, Victor,” he says, hanging his head. “As usual, you’re right. But


    I never expected to be scolded by you for this, because I never thought I’d see you again!”


    “Well, now you have,” Victor snaps, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling. I can tell that


    he’s over this conversation and very disappointed in his brother. “Get yourself together, Rafe. We’ve


    got things to do, and I need you at top form.”


    Frustrated, Victor heads towards the stairs, giving me a nod on the way. “I’m going to take a shower.


    Will you be all right with this for a moment?”


    I nod to him, giving him a little smile. He needs a minute to process this, I can tell, and I can hold down


    the fort while he does.


    As Victor disappears up the stairs, I saunter into the living room.


    “Oh hey, Rafe!” I say loudly, too cheerfully, making him wince. I lean down to offer him my half-drunk


    ss of water. “How ya doing?”


    Rafe just grimaces, epting the water but looking at it like he doesn’t want to put any liquid in his


    mouth ever again. “Hey, Evelyn,” he murmurs. “d you’re not dying anymore.”


    “Looks like you took over that role in the family,” I say, standing straight and raising my eyebrows.


    Then, I look to my kids. “Okay, boys,” I call. “You’ve been dressed in those clothes for days – time for a


    bath. Go upstairs and take them off. And then put them in a pile out in the hall. I’ll take them


    somewhere to be cleaned or…I don’t know, burn them, I guess.”


    The boys, delighted at this prospect, gasp and dash for the stairs, Ian starting to peel his shirt off as he


    goes. I start after them, leaving Rafe alone, but he calls my name out as I walk away.


    “Please,” he says to me, the water still clutched in one hand. “Have you – have you heard from


    Bridgette? Is she okay?”


    I study him for a moment and then turn back, crossing my arms as I do. “No,” I say carefully. “I haven’t


    heard from her. But I’m guessing you haven’t either?”


    He just shakes his head, letting it hang again. “She won’t…she won’t return my calls…”


    “Good for her,” I quip, turning my back to him, not caring if I hurt his feelings. “You never deserve to


    hear from her again. And she deserves better than a drunk who lies to her over and over again.”


    I think I hear a little sob as I stalk away from him, following my family up the stairs. I try to not let his


    pain sink into my heart, though. He’s caused too much of it to earn my pity now.


    This is just karma biting him in the ass, and I’ve got other things on my mind.


    To begin, the idea of Victor all naked and soapy in the shower. If I hurry, I can catch him in there before


    he finishes up.