Swallowing thickly, Madeline nodded, her anger dying down. “You’re right. I won’t go too far.”
“What is going too far?” I demanded. Owen and Madeline turned to me and spoke in unison.
“Rape.”
“Come on, Gwen,” Chloe said firmly, hooking her arm around mine and pulling me toward the door. I fought against her, desperate to get to Stan and get him out of there. Chloe was stronger, though, and managed to cut me off at every pass, keeping me in her grip. When we got outside, she put herself between the door and me.
“Stop,” she ordered.
“But—“
“He’ll be fine. I trust Madeline not to make Stan do anything he wouldn’t do outside of this situation.”
“He—”
“Will be fine. We need to find Norma.”
“And thanks to you being distracted, that’s going to be more of a pain in the ass than I’d hoped,” Owen announced as he closed the front door and moved down the two steps to our level.
“I was distracted?”
“The Find,” Chloe clarified.
Shaking my head, I took a step back, feeling suddenly, colossally overwhelmed. There were too many worries and too many questions. I felt out of my depth and lost.
“Just give me a minute to think, okay?”
Chloe and Owen exchanged glances and I turned away from them, shoving my hands into my hair. I took a giant gulp of air and moved my hands in front of my eyes. Pressing my fingers to my eyeballs hard enough that I saw colors, I tried my best to make sense of the situation.
Days ago everything had been normal. I’d been working and feeling good. Chloe had been trying to get me to eat healthier and I’d been doing just the opposite. That was par for the course for us and I rather enjoyed the give and take, where she gave me vegetables and I took them and dipped them in some fatty dressing and then mostly just slurped at the dressing.
Then Stan had shown up, talking about having a stalker. That stalker had turned out to be a succubus who’d, in turn, been hunted by a man that I was now having sex with. The sex part, that made perfect sense, but the situations leading up to the sex still had my brain in knots: succubi, stalkers, werewolves on crying jags, ex-husband roommates, and a partridge in a pear tree.
So, what was the solution to all these problems? What was I trying to get out of this situation? Where did I want to be this time tomorrow? These were the tough questions I asked myself while standing on a Seattle sidewalk with my face in my hands.
“Okay,” I said through my fingers, still facing away from my friends. “It seems like Norma is basically everybody’s problem.”
I turned, dropped my hands to my side and tried to ignore the feelings poking at me from both Chloe and Owen. They both figured me for a dummy. Pointing at them, I continued.
“You two shut up. You have knives and guns and succubus experience and I have an ex-husband who’s been mind-raped and a tiny plastic magnifying lens that apparently just does whatever the hell it feels like doing, despite what I ask it to do.” Owen opened his mouth to speak and I pointed at him. “I said shut up.”
The arrogance in him flashed to surprise and I felt my own stab of smugness at that.
“Look, I know you two are the big damn heroes and I’m just the goofy sidekick. I’m okay with that, you know? I get it. What I’m not okay with is feeling like everything is happening around me and I’m just stuck in life’s van, unable to help or participate. I can’t do anything for Stan and that makes me feel like shit, but I can help with Norma, right? You can help me figure out how to stop her. We can figure out how I can be useful. I don’t want a gun or a knife and I’m not going to pretend I can do some flippy ninja shit and kick her ass, but I want to feel useful. I want to help. I want to make what Stan is going through in there better by being able to tell him that we stopped Norma. I want to make sure he knows no one else is ever going to mess with him like this again.”
I paused to give myself a moment to overcome the stinging at the back of my throat as I realized I’d unintentionally jumped back in time ten years to when I’d been the one ruining Stan’s life. Swallowing thickly, I pressed on, tried to bring my rambling speech to a logical end.
“We can all work together and you can shove your ‘staying in the van’ right up your ass. Asses. You both get a van to shove up each of your asses.”
Taking a deep breath, I crossed my arms over my chest, stared them both down and waited for them to nod or speak or give me some indication they knew what I was talking about, because I feared that even I didn’t know at that point. It was about thirty seconds before Chloe turned to Own and spoke.
“We only have the one van, so I nominate your ass.”
“I’d rather not pay the damage fees on that one, thanks. But, whadd’ya say we get Gwen some ice cream?” Owen’s voice went slow, like a parent placating a tantrum-throwing toddler. “And come up with a plan that doesn’t involve a foreign object or my rectum?”
I looked between them, torn between giving another angry speech and taking them up on the ice cream offer. Luckily for them, I’m a sucker for ice cream.
##
I’m not sure if it was a bad joke on their part, but Chloe made me stay in the van while she ran into the ice cream shop to bring me back my sweet treat. They probably suspected I was too worked up to conduct myself responsibly in public, and the only reason I didn’t throw another tantrum was that they were probably right.
“I take it this isn’t a typical week for you?” Owen asked. I turned away from watching Chloe through the store window and considered staying silent and refusing to answer. His expression was sweet, though, and he was feeling a bit worried about me.
“Not at all. I don’t hunt monsters like you and I don’t own a gun like Chloe. I’m just a therapist.”
“Stan will be fine. He’s in good hands. Hands that won’t touch him in his bathing suit area, I promise.”
Despite myself, I laughed, shook my head.
“I believe you. But…” I splayed my hands in front of me, waving them spastically as if I could work off the anxiety I felt over the situation. “He’s such a good man and he doesn’t deserve anything like this. I just—I can’t let him get screwed over again.”
“Again?” Owen asked, tipping his head. He reached across the gap between us and grabbed my hand. I let him pull it closer, holding it so both our arms were stretched. I glanced back and found Chloe had paid the lady behind the counter and was nodding at something she was saying. When she scooped up the cup of ice cream (with bonus chocolate-and-sprinkles-covered waffle cone on top), I turned back to Owen.
“I’ll explain later.” He nodded and squeezed my hand, and I wondered how a guy who seemed like such a decent fellow had gotten into such a dangerous line of work, and why he enjoyed it so much.
When Chloe was back in the van and the ice cream was in my hands, I gestured vaguely with the cup. Owen switched the van into gear and pulled into traffic. Without pretense, I bit off the pointy end of the cone and felt a happy little sigh run through my body at the taste of sugar on top of sugar on top of waffle cone.
“So, what’s our plan?” I asked, still crunching on the cone. Chloe, who’d taken a seat on the bare floor just behind the gap between our bucket seats, rolled her eyes good-naturedly at my open-mouthed chewing.
“You’re going to call Mel and offer to have sex with him.”
I nearly choked on my cone.
“Excuse me?” I said when I was able to swallow and breathe normally. Chloe knocked her knuckle against my pocket where my phone was tucked.
“Mel’s got Norma on his mind, but he’s still Mel. He still wants to have sex and it sounds like Norma’s not interested. If we can get him to come to us, we should be able to use him to find Norma.”
“And why am I the one who has to call him?” I asked, soothing myself with a giant scoop of chocolate ice cream, caramel swirl, marshmallow bits, and gummy bears. I loved Chloe so much in that
moment. Even her telling me I had to offer sex to Mel couldn’t overcome the happy that was this fattening cup of deliciousness.
“Because you’re the new-car smell,” Chloe answered, getting to her knees.
I grunted around the ice cream, trying to make it sound like I was asking for clarification. Watching the scenery, I realized Owen was taking us back to my place.
“He’s never slept with you before. He’s fallen pretty hard for Norma, but he won’t be able to resist you offering sex,” Chloe explained, grabbing a napkin from my lap and reaching out to dab at my chin. I fought the urge to growl at her and pull my ice cream away. She probably wasn’t going to take it, even though it was vegan, but that didn’t mean I wanted to risk it.
“Not only are you pine fresh but you’re a challenge,” Owen said, giving me a look that sat firmly on the fence between affection and disgust. I ignored him; as long as he wasn’t trying to steal my sugar, I had no beef with how he saw me in that moment. “Un-Mated werewolves can’t resist new—ah.” He cut himself off, and I had the sense that he’d been about to use a very rude word.
“New partners,” he said finally.
Chloe eyed him but didn’t say anything. I crammed another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth and chewed on a rock-hard gummy bear. Thinking about what they were proposing, I realized it was all just a means to an end. I didn’t actually have to have sex with Mel; I just had to claim I would to get him to come to us.
“You’re sure he won’t just turn me down?”
Chloe let out a bark of laughter and shook her head.
“No, no, I don’t think he will. Unless he’s with Norma in that moment, I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
Chapter Twenty
Chloe unlocked my front door and let me walk in ahead of her. I’d somehow managed to get ice cream on my hands, and she hadn’t let me touch anything between the front seat of the van and the house. I was okay with this, as it meant I could use both hands to eat ice cream. I was down to my last frozen marshmallow and chunk of soggy waffle cone.
I kept walking straight through the living room to finish my ice cream over the kitchen sink. I dumped the cup and plastic spoon when I was done and washed my hands. Once clean, I licked at my lips and realized I’d probably gotten ice cream on my face, too. My belief is that food is to be enjoyed, and if you’re not eating like a five-year-old, you’re not doing it justice. This does not often serve me well in my professional or social life, but…well, my reasoning begins and ends with, ‘ice cream.’
After dabbing at my mouth with wet paper towels, I stepped back into the living room and found Owen standing just inside the door, watching Chloe. She’d gone to Sonny’s cage and was cooing to him, which he seemed to appreciate. As she stuck a finger through the bars of his cage to scratch his cheek, Owen turned to look at me.
“The sooner you call Mel, the sooner this is over.”
I frowned his way and dug my phone out. Keeping my eyes on him, I unlocked the phone and had a thought.
“Did you guys buy me ice cream to butter me up for this?
“And to stop you from babbling about shoving vans up people’s asses,” Owen said, grinning like an evil mastermind. I scowled, but couldn’t argue.
“Make it convincing,” Chloe said. I frowned at her and then down at my phone. I really, really did not want to tell Mel I would have sex with him. Even just as part of a plan, it seemed like a terrible idea. What if he carried this fake confession with him for the rest of his life and never let me alone about it?
“Ugh. What if he records this and plays it back as blackmail some day?”
“Just call him.”
“But—”
Chloe darted forward and pinched my arm. I yelped and jumped to the side, grumbling. Owen shook his head at us like we were misbehaving puppies, but said nothing.
“Fine!” I said, giving her my best snarl. She wrinkled her nose at me.
“You’re adorable,” she cooed in the same tone she’d used on Sonny. Then her voice went hard. “Now dial.”
Fearing another attack, I stepped away from Chloe as I opened my recent calls list and hit Mel’s number. Shoving my free hand through my hair, I sighed and waited. Mel answered late, probably just before the voicemail would’ve picked up.
“Gwen?”
“Mel, hi,” I said, unsure how to start the conversation. I had a flashback to my call the night before with Owen and figured I could probably play it the same. “How are you?”
“I’m lonely. She’s gone again.” His tone was tragic, sending my plan of being flirty and casual right out the window. How was I supposed to flirt with someone who sounded like their favorite uncle had just been trampled by rhinos?
“Nor—” Realizing he’d never actually told us his lady friend’s name, I cut myself off. “What’s her name?”
“Norma.” As he sighed out wistfully, I turned to face Chloe and Owen, gave them an enthusiastic thumbs-up. They just frowned at me and I realized they had no idea I'd just confirmed that Mel was, in fact, just what we needed to track Norma. Or maybe they'd already been so sure, they thought I was an idiot for doubting them.
When Mel didn’t keep speaking, I pressed on.
“So, I have a proposition for you. If you’re up for it. If you want to, I mean. You don’t have—” Chloe pinched me again and I whined at her, pulling away. Mel didn’t notice. “What I was saying is, is, uh. I think you and I should...” I trailed off, my mouth working silently. It was possibly going to be physically painful to say that I wanted to have sex with Mel, I just knew it.
Chloe glared at me, lifting her hand and making a pinching motion with her fingers. Apparently it would be physically painful not to say it, too.
“Have sex with me, Mel,” I blurted. Owen let out a quiet snort, pressing a hand to his lips to cover it.
“Have sex with you?” Mel asked, bewildered.
“Yes. You should come to my house and we will have—some.” I had a hard time saying it again. I stuttered, feeling my lip curl in disgust. “Some—some sex. We’ll—we'll do it. Together.”
Owen’s whole upper body was shaking with laughter, palm holdling in most of the laughter, though snorts pushed through here and there. Chloe shook her head, controlling her laughter but not her emotions. Suddenly the amusement in the room was strangling. I found I was smiling, despite the fact that I was not proud of what I’d just done.
“You—really?” Mel asked. When I didn’t answer immediately, I heard the phone shift and then the sound of him blowing his nose.
Astoundingly sexy, this one.
“Yeah. Yes. Really. I actually want you to do me. This is not a ruse,” I caught myself claiming before I cleared my throat and continued. “I promise. This is real and it’s…happening.”
“But you hate me.” He had a point, but I'm a quick thinker.
“That just means better sex, doesn’t it? Hate? Hate sex is what we should have!” I announced, sending Owen into another snorting fit.
“Really?” Mel asked again, a sniffle chasing his confusion over the phone line.
“For God’s sake, Mel, do you want to put your penis in me or not?” I snapped. I didn’t have it in me to keep begging him. On any other day, I would have gotten out just the word ‘let's,’ and he would have magically appeared next to me, sans underpants. He made a stuttering sound but didn't answer, which made me even more impatient.
“This is a limited-time offer. Come on. Chop, chop!” I felt so greasy in that moment, I needed to be done. Even if we never caught Norma and Stan had to go into Witness Protection in order for me to be done ordering Mel to nail me, in that moment I was okay with that.
Mel made a small sound that could have been a sob or could’ve been an insulted gasp. I stayed silent, waiting for him to decide. Maybe Chloe was wrong and he was too far gone in Norma’s trap. Maybe we’d have to go to him, tie him up, bring him to Madeline and she’d have to get into his brain meats and unscramble what
was there to get to Norma.
That had to be a thing, right? This couldn’t be our only plan. I could not be our only plan.
“Let me shower and I’ll come right over. I can’t believe this, Gwen. I—“
“Don’t shower. Just come over.”
“I’m kind of—“
“We’ll shower together. Just get over here.”
“I—okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Great.”
Unable to listen to the pathetic whine in his voice anymore, I hung up, shoved the phone at Chloe and then stepped away, indulging in a full-body shudder. When the shudder wasn’t enough, I let out a long, wavering cry, trying to overcome the slimy feeling across my skin. Owen had managed to control his laughter, but his eyes were gleaming a bit, and Chloe was giggling, shaking her head. I pointed at both of them in turn.
“I hate you both. That. Felt. Awful.”
“At least you don’t actually have to sleep with him,” Chloe reminded me. “Unless you want to.” I ignored that.
“But he’s going to think I want to, now. Forever. He will always hear my voice in the back of his head, suggesting we get naked!”
“You weren’t exactly convincing,” Owen pointed out.
“Hey,” I snapped, stepping toward him. I shouldn’t have been insulted; I hadn’t meant a word of what I’d said to Mel. But did Owen not understand the sacrifice I’d just made? Insulting me in my hour of selflessness was just rude. He held up his hands in surrender.
“I’m just saying. I’ve heard you when you really want sex, and honey, that wasn’t it. He’s just desperate.”
“Well,” I amended. “I guess you have a point.”
“He’ll probably still come to the door with no pants on, though.” Chloe pointed out. I whipped around to glare at her
Business With Pleasure (Empathy in the Preternatural PNW Book 2) Page 20
