by Sam Hall
Chapter 6
You’re deflecting again, Zack’s voice said in my mind. That was eerie, hearing the voice of someone who was still alive and kicking and, if the missed call notices on my phone were anything to go by, wanting to actually talk to me. A warrior does not hide or push away a threat. She assesses the danger, then finds the best way forward. Accept, then act.
I’m halfway there, I thought as I watched the familiar streets pass by. Mason was driving us back to the house, not one word or sound escaping those thinned down lips, but it wasn’t until we stopped at the traffic lights, my head turning at the raucous sounds coming from the pub on the corner, that I knew where I needed to be. Stevie’s bar.
“I’m getting out here,” I said abruptly, hand going to the door, then I was opening it and getting out before Mason could reply.
“Paige!” he shouted, having wound down the windows.
“I’ll be back in time for the meeting, but I need to relax for a bit or I’m gonna scream.”
“Don’t fucking do it, Paige. You said it yourself, this leaves the family open to an attack.” A beep from the car behind him had his head whipping around before he wrenched on the wheel and stopped the car half in and half out of the street side carpark.
Not in Stevie’s. It was neutral ground, always, something I think he hoped I’d forgotten. I wasn’t arguing with him. Spehrs didn’t argue, which was autocratic and high-handed bullshit, but that was how it worked here. I walked up the steps, hearing the steady thump of music coupled with the low hum of voices inside that just got louder as I pushed open the doors.
Until they didn’t.
Heads turned, conversations stopped, barflies peeled themselves away from the counter, but my eyes all skated past them. She smiled when she saw me, cocking her hip and throwing down her tea towel, then she grabbed the remote for the jukebox and flicked through songs until I heard the familiar bars of an old standard in the pub. Sheryl Crow started singing about her neighbourhood going to shit, and people picked up the lyrics quick enough, warbling along as I shook my head and approached the bar. But I didn’t get far, as Stevie vaulted over it and landed on the ground for just a second before launching herself at me. She wrapped me in her arms, those slim limbs possessing a hidden strength, pinning me to her chest as her mouth went to my ear.
“You said you’d never come back.”
I pulled back, disentangling myself, standing on my own two feet, as I would have to now. I met those catlike green eyes and saw her hair was almost the same colour as them now. It always changed.
“You know why I had to.”
“I don’t know anything of the sort,” she said, then sniffed, turning back to the bar and getting behind it in the more conventional way this time. She pulled down the top shelf tequila to the sounds of whoops from the patrons, but she just stuck her finger up as she poured out two shots, pushing them towards me before pouring her own. “So you need some fortification before you deal with that bloody family of yours?”
“Just came from the hospital.” Stevie’s hand froze midway to her mouth, a look of concern on her face. “I think I just wanted to see a friendly face before it begins.”
“Think I see why,” she said, nodding over my shoulder. By the chill in the air and the stiffening of the patrons’ backs around me, I knew who had joined us.
“Stevie,” Mase said in a curt voice.
“No crap in my bar, Mason. The alpha agreed this was to be neutral ground. Beta or not, you don’t cause shit here.” As a sop to his pride, she poured another shot and pushed it his way, watching to see if he’d pick it up. His muscles bunched, his T-shirt sleeves riding up as he leaned against the bar, something several ladies took note of as he reached for the glass. I lifted mine, saluted Stevie and then the onlookers, before downing one then the other.
“You little beauty!” came the refrain, the music and the noise picking up where it had left off, cloaking me in a cocoon of familiarity.
“I’m safe. You can keep an eye on me from by the pool table. No one’s gonna do shit here,” I told Mason, swivelling around to face him.
He didn’t reply straight away, typical dominance bullshit, but he could no more stop himself than cease breathing.
“I’m not holding your hair back this time. You spew alone and not at all in my car.”
Old me would have been creaming her panties at all that big, growly, bossy, shifter bullshit, but new me just smiled and waved, though she wasn’t above getting a little damp in the knickers. I’d been fantasising about Mase ever since I was old enough to work out what the achy feeling between my legs meant, but it didn’t mean I had to fall straight into that crap again.
“Fine, now off you toddle. Play nice with the other kids. I haven’t spoken to Stevie for ages, and I need to update her on a lot.”
There was a stillness about Mason that had always transfixed me as a teen. When I was at my most ratty, he just was. Daddy issues, I figured. Like my father, he carried around with him a kind of quiet power. Big dick energy, as Stevie liked to say. But I’d never gotten the chance to confirm or deny, and that pulled at my attention. I could do literally anything and he would remain unmoved. I felt a sharp pang at that, watching his eyes narrow as he considered what exactly Stevie and my conversation might entail. Well, I was done getting caught up in that monolithic macho bullshit. I just shook my head and turned back to her, watching her pour out the tequila.
“So big, tall, and delicious you sent me the photos of when you were in the big smoke? He seemed promising. Where is he?” she asked.
“I left him where I found him. We never had anything permanent going. It was nice, y’know? Not being pressured to mate forever and choose the next alpha. He just was, I just was, and sometimes, we just were, together.”
“And when you were?” Her eyes sparkled as she smirked, just a hint of silver staining them.
She, the bar, the crowd, the music all faded away for a moment, and there was just him.
He moved like a fucking panther in the ring, sparring with me, doing everything he wouldn’t do outside the ring. Tracking me, hunting me down, pushing me up against the ropes until I came back twice as hard. I struck with fists wrapped in tape, elbows, knees, feet, forcing him back, back, back, until finally, I got the fucking drop on him. My leg swept out and hooked behind his muscular one, yanking on the knee before he could react, and down he went. I got exactly half a minute to look down at the big body sprawled out on the canvas, eyes wide as he panted, staring blankly at the ceiling. My grin spread, my fist going to the air.
And then he yanked me down on top of him.
“Don’t let your fucking guard down,” he said with a grin, holding me easily pinned in this position. Fighting wise, this was exactly where I didn’t want to be, sprawled out, unable to use physics or momentum to break his hold.
But I didn’t really want to, did I?
He’d smiled, slow and cocky, then did that thing wolf shifters do—took in a long inhale of my scent.
“Scent isn’t consent, Paige,” he’d said, running a hand down the side of my face, watching me shiver. “Sometimes the blood gets up. Sometimes fighting’s a bit like foreplay for shifters, feels like a mating fight.” I couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything, my entire focus on his finger as it moved now to trace the shape of my lips. He smiled when they parted, letting the pad of one finger slide in a little to touch my tongue. Our breath sounded so damn noisy right then. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me, and I’ll—”
I cut him off with a kiss, because what else could I do? I couldn’t say it. The words of the alpha’s daughter had a weight to them, even all the way out here in the city. So I showed him, like he showed me, shifting until I was straddling him, feeling the fucking great lump underneath that let me know just how into this idea he was. And then I bent down and kissed him, long and sweet, the way I’d wanted to since we met, when I watched those full lips tell me about gym procedures.
�
��Fuck, yes…” he hissed, pulling back for a moment as his hand slid to my hair, yanking free my ponytail holder and then burying his fingers in it. He crunched up into a seated position, unable to just lie there and take it, then dragged me down hard against him. His mouth, his hands were hungry, eating me up, wanting more, more…
My eyes jerked up when I heard my friend’s chuckle, Stevie and the pub all flooding back. I swallowed hard, blinking for a moment, still able to feel Zack’s fingers on my skin.
“That good, huh?”
My eyes dropped down to the countertop, fingers going around the new shot and downing it without a thought, needing that harsh burn. Anything to assuage the ache.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. I figured we weren’t talking about your dad if you were in here.”
Beep… beep… That bloody machine making that rhythmic noise, him lying there looking so—
I jerked my head up and forced myself to smile. I’d be doing that so much in the next few weeks, until things were settled.
“So where is he? Mr Tall, Dark, and Handsome and frighteningly similar looking to a certain beta we both know and love,” she charged on.
“I came in here to drown my sorrows?” I asked with a snort, but I’d known the drill when I got out of the car. Stevie was a straight shooter, didn’t bullshit around, and if I wanted soft words and my hand held, this was not gonna be the place for it. “I couldn’t let things go too far. It just wouldn’t be fair. He was looking for a mate, and I…” I looked around the pub, which was starting to fill more, being Saturday lunchtime. “I get to play pack princess and kingmaker all in one. Zack wouldn’t want any of this bullshit, was certainly never gonna wanna play the stupid games that involve becoming alpha.”
As if in response to that, my phone started to ring. I fished it out, moving my thumb to accept the call, when I saw who it was. Stevie shook her head when she peered at the screen.
“You sure about that? Doesn’t look like he’s ready to let you go, if the…seven missed calls are anything to go by. Answer the phone, Paige. You’re going through shit, your dad is sick, and I’m shit with sad stories, you know that. Talk to the man, even if it’s just to tell him how things are gonna go. Don’t leave him hanging. No one needs that.”
She pulled away from me, moving to pour the beers of those people milling around the bar, leaving me to stare at the phone. My thumb hovered as I felt the vibrations all the way down my hand, through my body, like Zack was reaching out physically as well as via phone. I swore silently at myself as I thumbed the green icon, feeling that surge of need, to hear his voice, to hear that growly rasp of concern, to hear him dissect my fucking life and help me put together a plan.
“Paige.”
I’d put the phone to my ear, Zack’s words an echo of Mason’s the other night, but the tone so different. It was like dropping into a warm bath when you were cold, cocoa in hand, feeling all that heat just wash over you. Stevie shot me a mischievous look as I answered, waggling her eyebrows before turning back to her patrons.
“Hey, I’m sorry—”
“Are you OK? How’s your dad?”
I let out a long sigh, feeling like I’d been unconsciously carrying a heavy weight and not noticing it until I laid it down.
“It’s not good. He’s had a stroke and is on a respirator. I…” Don’t think about that yet. Not yet. “I’m not gonna be back, Zack. I should’ve left those keys for you. I’ll mail them.”
“No need. I’m halfway to Lupindorf. Be there in a few hours.”
“What?” The bath turned ice cold and filled with sharp icicles. “No, turn around, go home. Fuck, Zack!” Stevie frowned, looking over at me with concern as she worked.
“I know what this means, Paige. I came from an old-school pack too. I’m not gonna get in the way of anything or try and stop you from taking whoever you think is your best choice for mate, but I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this. You been hiding again?”
I swallowed fiercely, trying to dislodge the massive lump there but not succeeding. It just swelled and swelled until my throat was closed shut.
“Thought so. Some burdens, they’re too much for any one person. You don’t have to fight every battle by yourself. I’ll be there soon, just hang tight.”
“Zack, I can’t put you up at the house. The contenders will see that as a challenge. Every single one of them will want to take you on.”
He laughed at that, a low rumble that did interesting things to my body, despite the almost total wave of fear rushing over me.
“Never backed away from a fight before, babe. Not gonna start now. I won’t cause shit with any of your suitors, but I ain’t backing down if they do.”
“Zack!” I hissed his name, trying to inject all the pain and fear and frustration I felt in that one word and failing. “Please…”
“It’ll be OK, Paige. If I have to, I’ll find somewhere else to stay. You’re not alone, you hear me? None of my fighters go through something like this without someone by their side. Now, I gotta get off the phone before I put my pedal to the floor and speed all the way there. Just know I’m coming.”
What I felt for Zack was always a complex tumble of intense friendship, need, desire, but it all just got more and more pressing as I said goodbye. So much so, I just hung my head and breathed for a few moments, trying to ride out the maelstrom of sensation inside me and come back to the here and now.
I wasn’t sure how long it took for the sounds—people talking shit, the occasional shout, the regular beat of the music—and the smells—sour, yeasty beer, the sharp chemical scent of the tequila—of the bar to come back to the fore. Be here, be now, I told myself.
“You ready to go?”
My head jerked up to see Mason standing beside me, staring down. His eyes got so hard sometimes, they looked like polished jet. I met his gaze for several heartbeats, getting the waves of irritation from him, even if I couldn’t scent him like he could me. I picked up my last shot and downed it, nodding to Stevie as she sauntered over.
“You’ve got a place here,” she said as she watched me ready to leave. “Know that. Whatever goes down, I got a spare room above the bar with a comfy bed and—”
I cut her off by reaching across the bar and wrapping as much of my arm around her shoulders as I could.
“Thanks. I needed to hear that today.” I pulled back, then reached for my wallet, ready to pay for my drinks.
“Oh no, you don’t.” She curled her fingers over mine, shoving the money back in. “If I’m really hard up, I’ll just send a bill to the alpha’s office. Come back, Paige, even if it’s just to sink a few drinks or to play a game of pool. Mason.”
He returned her nod and then did something surprising—put a hand on my shoulder to steer me out of the bar. While I’d spent so many years waiting for this man to touch me spontaneously, today, I wished he hadn’t. It burned through the tight Lycra of my top, setting my flesh alight in ways that were intense and confusing right now. Zack and I were in a weird place between friends and lovers, and he was coming into a hostile environment I couldn’t help but want to protect him from. And Dad… But I let the beta wolf lead me outside, waiting for him to open the door like he wanted before piling into the car.
“It’ll be OK, Paige,” he said so gently, I wondered if I’d misheard him. But I didn’t get a chance to ask as he turned the key in the ignition and drove us home.
“Sleep for an hour or two,” he said when we got home, the quiet of the building almost tangible, despite being situated in the middle of town. “The family won’t be here until sundown, and you look tired.”
“Thanks,” I said with a wry sniff. “That bad, huh?”
“What’s coming, it’ll be tough. You need to be rested to deal with it.”
He was, of course, right. He usually was. But as I climbed the stairs, ready to return to my childhood room, I looked down the hall, moving to my father’s on automatic. I opened the door a crack, that i
nbuilt fear of pissing off the alpha too ingrained, even though logically, I knew he wasn’t there. And then it hit me.
That woodsy tobacco scent that was all Dad, the old western novel left facedown on the bedside table, open to where he was up to. The lamp, giving off a faint glow in the afternoon light which streamed through the big picture windows. The deep burgundy satin bedspread that was usually spread neatly across the bed, now rucked up and half off. It was the feel of that which drew me down. Initially, I was going to straighten it up and then go to bed, but the feel of it, false, fake, silken texture had me falling down into the dent Dad had left in the mattress.
“You can’t fight this stuff like you can a bout,” Zack had said, tapping my forehead. “The more you push the thoughts and feelings away, the harder they come. There’s no grapple, no hold to keep them at bay, Paige. All you can do is face them down head-on and know they, too, will pass, like every other feeling or thought you’ve had. Now, let’s do the mindfulness exercise I showed you.”
He’d pulled me against him, knowing that right then, I needed that physical reminder to anchor me in the present, to disengage my mind from all its constant chatter and just be. I breathed when he breathed, our chests synchronising, growing slower and calmer with each breath. I felt the thoughts and feelings clamouring at the edges of my perception and then did what scared me the most—let them in.
And in they rushed, all pent-up repressed energy, and my discomfort rose higher and higher until I started to stiffen, feeling like I’d be swallowed whole by them.
“Ssh…” he’d said, rubbing circles on my shoulder, helping me tolerate the feeling until what he always said would happen and I always feared wouldn’t—my mind adjusted and settled, letting the clamour inside it just exist, which somehow quietened the roar. Then, as the rush subsided, my breath, my body came back into focus, especially where it slumped against Zack’s. He held me close, sheltering me within that massive body, until that last long breath shuddered out.
