Bastian: Shifters of Iron Storm Bayou (Mate Marked Book 5) by Amber Ella Monroe

Author:Amber Ella Monroe [Monroe, Amber Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amber Ella Books
Published: 2019-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Leana

“Bastian, what happened to you?

I was seated in the passenger’s seat with Bastian driving his Chevy truck along a rural road. He seemed to avoid the city streets, but I knew why. In the past, I recalled how he never liked coming to the city to begin with.

This wasn’t a kidnapping-hostage situation. Yes, he had taken me from my childhood home, but I went willingly. He saved my ass. He saved all of our asses.

But how did he know?

Bastian looked straight ahead at the road. His hair was long, flowing way past his shoulders. It looked like he hadn’t cut it in years.

“Are you going to answer me?” I pleaded.

“If you’re referring to the way I look, life happened to me. That’s what.”

I shook my head. “No. You look the same. Just the hair. It’s longer. Have you been living here all this time?”

“I never left.”

“But I couldn’t find. After I left, I came to visit the river and the bridge and you weren’t there.”

“Not sure if you noticed, but that land was bought up by some rich tycoons. They bought most of the owners out and seized most of everything else with that imminent domain crap.”

“I noticed…”

“You promised not to look for me. But, you were never good at keeping promises.”

Despite the dire situation, I detected the joking tone in his voice.

“What the hell just happened back there?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Wait. How’d you know to come help us? Were you following me?”

He took his attention off the road momentarily to look at me. His eyes were calm, like tranquil, clear waters. “I was.”

This moment with him brought me back to the times we spent together in that old beat-up truck of his. He’d drive it back to work at the cafe and leave it parked behind a shed until he clocked out. I’d meet him at work, despite him telling me that he was no good for me or that I was too young. He may have been right about the latter, but even if he acted like there wasn’t something there between us, I still considered him a good friend. We talked over chess. He taught me how to fish in the lake. I only had a month with him before he decided to cut off contact with me rather abruptly.

Much had changed in three years, yet everything seemed the same.

I reached across the console and moved some of his hair back from his face. He flinched once, but like all the other times, he allowed me to stroke the side of his face, like I used to.

“It’s like you haven’t aged at all,” I whispered, as I gliding my fingers along his hairline. That strange hawk birthmark was still there. The pigmentation was a bit darker than I remembered it, allowing me to see as if for the first time. The image was clearly defined, not smudgy or muted like previous birthmarks I’d seen on friends before. He had a hawk tattoo identical to the birthmark on the other side of his neck.

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