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A Pack of Love and Hate

Page 13

by Olivia Wildenstein


  I could almost hear my five-year-old self squeal with delight when Dad would suggest a game of hide-and-seek in the stacks.

  “Ness?” August tipped his head toward one of the aisles.

  I snapped out of my daze. “Sorry. What?”

  “The sanders are down there.”

  As I trailed after him, I whispered, “He’s drunk, isn’t he?”

  After a beat, August nodded.

  “Isn’t it . . . dangerous?” I gestured to all the heavy-duty machinery around us.

  “I got one of my guys keeping an eye on him.”

  “Is he often like this?”

  “Liquored up? Yeah. But not usually while he’s at work. Today’s his wife’s birthday. Every year, Dad tells him to take the day off, but he says it’s easier to spend his day here than in his home where everything reminds him of her.”

  August’s words made my heart hurt. “I’m not sure I could keep living if everyone I loved died.”

  “You’d find new people to love,” he said.

  “I don’t love very easily.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’re telling me.”

  Realizing what he was saying, I added, “I still love you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. Not if you think otherwise.”

  “Ness . . .” He sighed.

  Why couldn’t I have returned to Boulder at twenty-one? I dragged my ponytail over my shoulder and toyed with the ends. “You’re one of my two favorite people in Boulder.”

  A small groove appeared between his brows. “Who’s the second one?”

  “Evelyn.”

  As August watched my coiling blonde locks, I wondered where I stood in his favorites list. Had I been relegated to the bottom? Was I even still on the list?

  Even though the warehouse was alive with noise, in the shade of the tall metal shelves, away from everyone else, it felt as though August and I were enclosed in our own little world, a world as fragile as a soap bubble.

  He closed his eyes and took a step back, bursting the bubble. When he lifted his lids, he was staring at something behind me. He cleared his throat. “You’ll need a big drum and an edging sander. And a vacuum.”

  “If I can borrow all of the above, it would be really helpful.”

  He nodded and stepped toward the rack, his arm brushing mine. Even though he seemed absolutely unaffected, I jerked from the contact. As he grabbed both tools, I thought of what he’d told me . . . that he never did anything by mistake. Which led me to wonder if he’d meant to touch me and test the durability of my nerves.

  “The vacuum’s at the end of the aisle.” He canted his head in the direction.

  As I spun, my sneakers’ rubber soles squeaked on the concrete. I hurried to grab the vacuum; then together, we walked out of the warehouse and back toward the van. I shifted my hold on the contraption in order to pop the trunk open, but August loaded everything in the bed of his pickup.

  As he eased the vacuum from my arms, he said, “You need a generator, or do you have electricity?”

  “Jeb said we have electricity.”

  “And windows?”

  “And windows.” I smiled at his observance and thoroughness, and then I gestured to his truck. “Why did you put the stuff in your car? It’ll fit in the van.”

  “I was going to help you set up the equipment.”

  “Jeb’s at the house.”

  “And he’s familiar with sanders?”

  “Probably not, but I sort of remember how to use them.”

  “I’ll give you a refresher course.”

  “You surely have better things to do with your time . . .”

  “It’s my lunchbreak.”

  “Well then, eat lunch.”

  “Not hungry.”

  Okay . . . I started toward the driver’s side of the van. “Remember the way?”

  Sadness glinted in his eyes. “I remember.”

  He was probably wondering why I’d want to move back into a house filled with ghosts. Or maybe I was wondering this and just projecting my qualms on him. Should I have sold it and moved on?

  I shook my head.

  I’d make new memories in it.

  Fill it with new laughter and new scratch marks.

  Besides, this was a good project for my uncle, who would’ve gone stir-crazy sitting at home, plotting his revenge on Alex Morgan. It was keeping him sane and safe.

  22

  Jeb came out of the house when I drove up, white wifebeater stained and damp with sweat. “We should be done with the plumbing by next week,” he said as I hopped out of the van.

  The overhaul had gone fast. It helped that one the elders’ sons was an electrician. It also helped that Jeb was so hands-on.

  August parked next to me, then got out and went to gather the equipment. “Hey, Jeb.”

  As Jeb wiped his hands on a rag that looked dirtier than his palms, he narrowed his eyes. “We got everything under control here, August.”

  I frowned.

  “Oh, I’m not here on behalf of Watt Enterprises,” August said. “Just came to get Ness set up.”

  Jeb thought I’d hired August?

  My uncle was still wiping his hands, arms a little tense, as though he felt threatened by August. I rolled my eyes. Even though Jeb wasn’t in wolf form, he was acting mighty territorial.

  “Ness, can I grab the car keys? I wanted to go get some supplies.”

  I dug them out of my bag and handed them over.

  Once he’d driven away, I said, “Sorry about that.”

  “’Bout what?”

  “Jeb’s strange behavior.”

  August smiled as he lugged the sanders past the wisteria vines wrapped around the porch’s beams. “I’m used to people reacting that way. They see us coming and think we’re either going to steal their job or present them with a hefty bill.”

  We carried the tools into the house that looked larger now that the furniture had been disposed of—Jeb had gotten some Boulders together over the weekend to clear the space. He’d asked me what I wanted to keep, and I said nothing. Not that there had been much left over from Mom and Dad; the previous owners had stripped the house.

  As August set everything down, he stared around the bare space. “Never thought I’d come back here.”

  “You and me both.”

  He turned his attention to me. “You sure you want to live here?”

  “I’m not really sure of much these days, but I don’t see myself staying in Jeb’s apartment forever. Besides, I want the forest on my doorstep. I want to be able to shift and come home without running into any humans.”

  I gazed out at the woods cinching the property and at the grayed picnic table buried in overgrown grass. I could still picture the boisterous meals we’d shared, could still hear my mother debating the merits of medicinal plants with Isobel, and my dad discussing inventions that would revolutionize the timber industry with Nelson while I swung on the tire swing August had fashioned for me.

  God . . . he really had been such an integral part of my life.

  August touched my arm. “Dimples?”

  I swallowed and pushed away the memory before it slicked my eyes. “When are you starting construction on your home?”

  “When I have time.”

  “Do you have a design in mind?”

  He lowered his eyes to a dark knot in a floorboard. “I did. I’m not sure of it anymore.”

  “If you need input, I’ll gladly offer my consulting services.”

  He nodded as though filing my offer away in a drawer he was never planning on opening. I supposed he didn’t need the input of a girl with no experience or skill.

  “Ready for your Parquet 101 class?” he asked after a moment.

  I smiled. “I am.”

  After quickly vacuuming a corner of the living room, he showed me how to work both sanders. Even though there shouldn’t have been anything remotely sexy about sanders, watching him operate the
machines was mesmerizing.

  “How old is Sienna?” The question popped out of my mouth before I could think better of bringing up his ex.

  He flicked the big drum sander off. “What made you think of her?”

  “You made me think of her.”

  “I’d rather if I didn’t make you think of her.” He straightened and rubbed his palms against his jeans. “She turned twenty-one back in January. Why?”

  I shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  He eyed me. “You’re never just wondering anything.” He came a little closer, still skimming his hands over his jeans. “Age is just a number, Ness. I know some thirty-year-olds who act like teenagers and some teenagers who act like adults. What you’ve lived through, it made you mature faster.” In a voice so low goose bumps flourished on my bare arms, he added, “Not that it matters anymore, considering how you feel about me.”

  For a moment, he didn’t move, and neither did I, but then his gaze dropped to my mouth, and he inclined his head, and I thought that if he bridged the distance, I’d toss Liam’s ban and Evelyn’s opinion to the wind and confess my lie.

  A ringing erupted between us. He shut his eyes and took a step back.

  Palming the nape of his neck, he slid his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll be right back,” he said, returning outside.

  I glanced at him through the window, watched his tendons and muscles shift beneath his caramel skin, watched the perfect Vee of his back. If only I hadn’t missed him when the link had faded.

  Sighing, I crouched and checked the floorboards for nails that would need to be removed. As I pried one loose, August’s heavy boots reappeared before me. I trailed my gaze up his legs that were set stiffly apart, at his knees that were locked as tight as his jaw.

  “You told me nothing happened between you and Liam when you were out in the Rivers’ territory.” There was a sharpness to his tone that made me rock back onto my heels. “You two shared a cabin. A one-bedroom cabin.”

  As I stood, I folded my arms. “Liam was worried about leaving me on my own in the enemy camp.”

  “The Rivers aren’t our enemy,” August said through gritted teeth.

  “I figured as much when Ingrid’s father asked Liam to arrange a wedding between you and his daughter.”

  His face jerked back. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Ingrid wants to marry you, August. If you remain a Boulder, that is. If Liam and I fail, and you become a Creek, the proposal will be off the table.”

  His eyebrows lost some of their slant.

  “And I didn’t tell you about sharing a cabin with Liam, because I knew it would annoy you.”

  “If nothing happened, why would it annoy me?”

  “Nothing happened, and it’s bothering you now. And we’re not even . . . together.”

  Silence stretched out like the ocean that had separated us after he’d reenlisted.

  “Will you consider it?”

  His chest rose and fell bumpily. “Consider what?”

  “Marrying her?”

  “Of course not,” he snapped.

  It shouldn’t have brought me any relief, but hearing him say this filled me with hope that he might just wait for me to grow up. “How did you find out anyway?”

  “Same way I find out about everything . . .” He tossed me a hurt look as he stalked away. “Through other people.”

  His words sliced past my ribcage, cutting deep. What else had he found out about? Was he talking about the dinner tomorrow night?

  “So you don’t find out about this through other people, I’m going to dinner at Tracy’s tomorrow with a couple Boulders and their girlfriends.”

  He paused on the threshold of the house. “Are you telling me or inviting me?

  I folded my arms in front of me. “Do you want to come?”

  He looked at me long and hard before saying, “No.”

  And then he was trampling the unkempt front yard and climbing into his car. I felt his anger agitate the tether long after he’d gone.

  23

  “Hey, bitch,” Sarah said, flinging her front door wide. “Hope you like Chinese food, ’cause we’re having Chinese food.”

  “I like Chinese food,” I mumbled as I entered her marble-and-stainless-steel palace.

  “Do contain your enthusiasm.”

  “Sorry. I’ve just had a crappy few days.”

  “Crappy? Try my life right now. I had the pleasure of being convened to a Creek assembly yesterday. Lori, who’s apparently her mother’s spokesperson, commanded us to fraternize with our new packmates and learn the fifty or so rules of the Creek way of life.”

  “I broke up with August on Monday,” I blurted out.

  Sarah’s brown eyes broadened. “Okay, your crappy trumps mine. But only by a fraction . . .” She followed me over to the couch and sat daintily while I just dropped onto the seat cushion. “Spill.”

  “Both Liam and Evelyn think I shouldn’t date a guy who’s a decade older.”

  “Liam’s your ex, and Evelyn isn’t a shifter.”

  I glanced at Sarah, at the wild blonde corkscrews framing her delicate face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “He’s totally biased, and she doesn’t understand the importance of mating links.”

  “What she doesn’t understand is what a twenty-seven-year-old man sees in an eighteen-year-old girl.”

  “Did you tell her about the link?”

  “I did, but that’s not why I’m with . . . was with August in the first place.” Ugh.

  “I know, but maybe you could’ve used it to convince her that you’re incapable of not being with him.”

  I snorted. The sound reminded me of August, which made my heart feel black and blue. “Like she would ever have fallen for that.”

  “She’s not a werewolf. She doesn’t know how it works.”

  “I don’t want her to think I’m with him because I’m incapable of being without him.” I burrowed deeper into the couch. “Doesn’t even matter. I got in a fight with him this afternoon because he found out I shared a cabin with Liam when I was out East, and he’s convinced something happened.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “No!”

  She raised both her palms in the air. “I was just fact-checking. I like to get all my info before doling out advice.”

  I leaned back into the couch and threw one arm over my eyes a tad dramatically.

  “Just explain something. If you broke up with him on Monday, why are you having a jealous row two days later?”

  “Because something almost happened between us this afternoon.”

  “I think I might be more confused now than a couple seconds ago. Start from the beginning.”

  And so I did. I told her everything in such detail that when I was done, the food in the little white takeaway cartons was cold.

  “You do realize you’re ridiculous, and he’s ridiculous. Just fucking call him and tell him you lied, and tell Evelyn that you love August, graying hair and all.”

  “His hair isn’t graying.”

  She smirked. “Life’s too short, hun. You know this better than anyone else. You’re here today, but you might be gone tomorrow, so just focus on making yourself happy instead of pleasing everyone else around you.” She toyed with a diamond ring that looked a lot like the one which used to grace her uncle’s pinkie.

  “But I don’t want people to pass judgment on August.”

  “He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle it. I’m sure he’ll be happy to handle it if it means getting you back.”

  I wasn’t so sure he wanted me back after this afternoon. “I asked him to dinner tomorrow night, and he said he wasn’t interested.” I didn’t clarify that I told him about it before inviting him because that would’ve won me an eye-roll, and I didn’t want an eye-roll.

  I wanted a hug.

  I settled on dumplings and fried rice.

  A lot of dumplings and a lot of fried rice.
>
  While I ate, we talked about the Creeks, because one, I was done talking about myself, and two, I was hoping Sarah had uncovered something we could use.

  “Cassandra didn’t run with us during the Full Moon.”

  Alphas always ran with their packs during the Full Moon. “Why not?”

  “Lori said her mother was feeling under the weather.”

  “Did Aidan Michaels run?”

  “Nope. I doubt he can even shift what with all that Sillin still in his system.”

  I stuck my chopsticks into the carton of rice. “Sillin changes a werewolf’s smell, correct?”

  “Yeah, in substantial quantities, it dims it.”

  “Does Sandra still smell like a wolf?”

  Sarah frowned.

  “I mean, Cassandra.”

  “I got who you meant. I’m trying to remember.”

  I stuck my wrist in her face. “Do I still smell like a wolf?”

  She sniffed my skin, then pushed my arm away. “Yeah, you do. You’d have to be away from your pack and taking a lot of Sillin to stop smelling like a wolf, Ness.”

  I sighed. “Do you think we’re wrong in considering Sillin’s how she defeated Julian?”

  “Gosh, if I had the answer to that question, you’d be the first to know.”

  “I bet her family knows. The day of the duel, when Liam said he wanted to fight her straight away, Alex didn’t look concerned at all. It was as though he knew his mother couldn’t lose. Which is why I’m convinced it wasn’t just skill and luck.”

  Sarah sat up a little straighter. “You just gave me a brilliant idea.”

  “I did?”

  She nodded, her springy corkscrews popping out from behind her ears. “I’m going to flirt with Alex Morgan.”

  I hissed. “Sarah—no. He drove Everest off the road! He’s insane.”

  She stared at the crystal chandelier dangling over her leather coffee table without really looking at it. I prayed she was reevaluating the soundness of her decision.

  I leaned over and trapped her fingers. “Sarah, I’m serious. Don’t do this.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  A smile, which I imagined was supposed to be reassuring, graced her mouth. “I can’t go out to dinner with you tomorrow night, though. Alex will see right through me if I dine with a bunch of Boulders. And you and I can’t hang out for the duration of my stint.”

 

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