Dueling Moons: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 2)

by Laura Del

  I shook my head even though she couldn’t see it. “No, I’m good. But if he comes in, tell him to call me, okay?”

  “No prob. Talk to ya later, fleshy girl.”

  “Bye, Angel,” I replied, hanging up.

  I took a deep breath—something I had been doing a lot of lately—and tried to think of where he would have gone. I didn’t have to rack my brain very long, because the next thing I knew, I heard him come into the apartment.

  “Hey, girly,” he said, walking into the bedroom with that cocky smile of his. “How’re you feelin’?”

  I shrugged. “Okay. Not one-hundred percent, but better than yesterday.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Where were you?” I asked as he moved over to the bed, sitting down next to me.

  “Big Bears,” he replied. “Didn’t you get my note?”

  “Yes, I did. But when I called Angel said that you hadn’t been there today.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You checkin’ up on me, girly?”

  “You left your cell,” I said, pointing to his bedside table. I had noticed earlier that his phone was plugged in, and I figured it was a good excuse for calling Big Bears. “I wanted you to pick up some more crackers on the way here. So I called the diner, and Angel said that you weren’t there. In fact, she told me that you hadn’t been there.”

  “She needs to learn how to shut her mouth,” he hissed as he got up off the bed. “And you need to learn to mind your own business.”

  I pulled the blanket off me, standing with a huff. “Excuse me?” I asked, my voice holding a twinge of anger in it. No one talked to me like that. “Unless you have forgotten, you and I are in a relationship now, so that makes you my business. Understand, Sagmore?”

  His face softened, and he smiled down at me. “I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you, girly.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I had to stifle a shudder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against my forehead. “I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

  I placed my hands on his chest, looking up into his deep brown eyes. “What kind of surprise?”

  “This,” he said, letting go of me so he could get down on one knee. Then he pulled out a small black box, and I almost began to panic. What the hell? My mind screamed at me, but I just kept the shocked look on my face, which really wasn’t that hard.

  “I know it’s sudden, but when I want somethin’, I don’t like to wait for it. So, Patricia Wyatt, will you marry me?” he asked, as he opened the box to reveal a large carrot, white gold, diamond ring.

  There was no doubt in my mind that Stag was the monster now, and I smiled knowing I had the right guy after all. “Oh, Elliot,” I said, the smiled never leaving my face. “Of course I will.”

  He placed the ring on my finger, stood up, and swung me around. When he placed me back down on the floor, he pulled back with a sharp intake of breath. My mother’s cross had spilled out of my nightshirt, and had hit him where his black button-down shirt was open.

  “Ow.” He grimaced, as he rubbed the slightly red flesh.

  “Sorry,” I said with a frown, but I was smiling on the inside. “Let me make it better.” I leaned up, kissing the new cross-shaped burn on his chest. Something inside told me that we were being watched, and when I backed away from Stag, I saw Mike standing behind us. He had obviously seen the whole exchange, because his eyes were day-glow yellow, and his face was contorted with pain and rage.

  Stag turned around with a cocky smile on his face. “Wolfman, how’d you get in?”

  “The door was open, Stagmore,” Mike growled, as his teeth started to come to a point.

  “Well,” Stag growled back, “you should’ve knocked.”

  I knew I had to do something. And fast. “Mike,” I said, as I walked over to him, grabbing his elbow. “Come with me.” I tugged on his arm, and his stare wavered. “Now!” He let me pull him away, and we walked out of the apartment.

  “Are you insane?” I hissed when we were safely on our way to the stairwell. Finally, I opened the door, shoved Mike inside, and slammed the door behind us. My feet were cold against the concrete floor, but I didn’t care. I had a bone to pick with the Wolfman. “Do you have a death wish?” I yelled up into his face.

  “No,” he hissed down at me, “but he sure does.”

  I slapped him across the face, and the sound echoed off the walls. “Stop it right now,” I said with quiet anger.

  He closed his eyes and hung his head. And when he finally opened them, they were their natural green color. That is, until he got a good look at my left ring finger. “What the fuck, Pat?” he screamed, as he picked up my newly-ringed hand.

  “I can explain—”

  “No,” he said, dropping my hand violently. My arm hurt for a second, but not as much as the look on his face hurt my soul. He looked as though I was shit on the bottom of his shoe. “There is no explainin’ this.” I tried to open my mouth to say something, but the look in his eyes stopped me. They were cold. The warmth that they once held for me was gone, and I felt like crying.

  “You stay away from me, you heartless fuckin’ bitch,” he hissed, and I placed my hand over my heart. Then he turned on his heels and ran down the stairs, leaving me alone in the stairwell.

  I folded onto myself and slid down the wall, sitting on the cold floor. I sat there so angry with myself that I couldn’t see straight. Then I hit myself in the head with my palms. He was right: I was a heartless bitch, but those words were still like a cold knife carving my heart out. They left me in that unfamiliar stairwell to die a slow and agonizing death.

  “I’m so sorry, Mike,” I managed to say through my hands. “And I wanted to tell you…” I paused, knowing that he would never hear the words I was about to say. “I was in love with you.”

  It was true I loved him. But after what just happened, my realization of that fact was too little too late. I stood, shook myself off, and let Mike go.

  I had bigger things to worry about. But without Mike on my side, how was I going to get through this? And for that matter, how was I going to face Stag?

  Both were very good questions and they both had only one answer…

  Alone.

  chapter

  ELEVEN

  I made my way back into the apartment and heard Stag talking to someone in the bedroom. “Yeah,” he said loudly. “Isn’t it great?”

  As I walked into the room, I saw that he was talking on…my cell phone! My eyes widened, and Stag looked at me with a smile. Just as I was about to ask who it was, he got up off the bed and walked toward me. “She just walked in,” he said to the person on the other end, winking at me. “Sure you can talk to her.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, placing his hand over the receiver. “It’s your dad.”

  “What?” I yelled, yanking my cell from Stag’s hand. “Hey, Pops,” I said, as I walked out into the living room. “What’s up?”

  “Patricia Anne Wyatt.” He used my full name, and I knew I was in trouble. “What is going on?” he asked, with a hint of anger in his voice. My father is a former Marine, and he looks like one, too. He has broad shoulders, a large nose, a square jaw, and salt and pepper hair. The man is seriously scary, even when he’s not angry.

  “What do you mean?” I asked innocently, wondering what the hell Stag had told him.

  “What happened to that Michael fellow?”

  “We broke up, Pops,” I sighed. My father was not one for being on my side, and when I had moved in with Mike, I got the same interrogation. He asked me what happened to Samuel, and I had to lie. I had to tell him that we had grown apart, and then we went on with the conversation.

  “What happened?” he asked. That’s when I knew that Stag hadn’t told him a damn thing. I silently thanked God for small favors.

  “I cheated on him with my boss, Elliot,” I said, trying to g
et a rise out of the old man.

  I waited for the screaming, but all he said was, “Good for you. I never did like that creep anyway.” Did I happen to mention that Pops wasn’t a big fan of Mike’s, either?

  Shaking my head, I knew that there was no use in arguing with him. “I know, Pops. Did you want something?” I asked, getting off the Mike subject.

  “Yes,” he said, taking a breath. “Cindy wants you to be her matron of honor.”

  Cindy was my father’s very young, red-headed fiancée. “What?” I was shocked. “Why does she want me to be matron of honor? Doesn’t she have any friends? Better yet, why doesn’t she just ask Jessica?”

  “Patricia,” his voice was stern, “that’s not nice. She asked for you specifically. The wedding is only about three weeks away, and she picked you out of everybody. The least you can do is accept the offer.” I shook my head again, and he said, “Please, baby girl. For me?”

  “Fine,” I agreed. “But I better not be stuck in some pink dress.”

  “I’ve already talked to her, and she agrees…no pink.”

  “Good,” I laughed. “I love you, Pops.”

  “I love you too, baby girl. See you in a couple of weeks.”

  “See you.” I hung up with a smile. Pops and I had reached a ceasefire, and I wanted to keep the peace, so being Cindy’s matron of honor was the least I could do to keep my father in my life.

  “Matron of honor, huh?” Stag asked, as he leaned against the bedroom doorframe, arms folded.

  I nodded, putting my cell on the glass coffee table. “Uh-huh.”

  “That’s a really big deal,” he said with a slight smile. “But I was wonderin’ why you didn’t tell him about our engagement.” He stood upright, walking over to me slowly. Something in him changed, and I stood there frozen as he towered over me. He moved around to my side, and I just stared straight ahead. I was quietly freaking out.

  “His wedding is in a few weeks,” I explained. “He has enough on his plate as it is. Besides, I figured we could go together and make it a surprise.”

  I could feel him smile down at me even without looking. “I don’t believe you, girly,” he breathed. “I think you’re lyin’ to me.”

  “Why would I—?” he placed his hand over my mouth before I could finish, tilting my head to the side so that his lips were against my left ear.

  “You know,” he sounded amused, grabbing the back of my neck with his other hand, “if I found out you were lyin’ to me, all I would have to do is snap your neck. Such a pretty little neck, too,” he breathed against my flesh. “It would be a shame if somethin’ were to happen to it.” His grip tightened for a minute and my heart stopped. Then he started to laugh. “I’m only kiddin’, girly,” he said as he let go of my mouth and neck. “I would never hurt ya like that. You know, unless you provoked me.” He took his jacket off the back of the couch, and left me standing in the middle of the living room, shivering.

  When the apartment door closed behind him, I collapsed onto my knees, trying to get my breath back. I had a feeling that he’d overheard everything I said to Mike, and he had to show me who was Alpha.

  I knew that my plan was quickly falling apart.

  I placed my head in my hands and realized that I had been sweating. As I pushed my damp hair out of my face, someone knocked on the door, and I screamed so loud that I scared myself. That same someone crashed through the door, and I heard them run inside.

  “Pat,” Angel screamed. “Are you all right?” she asked, kneeling in front of me.

  I nodded, looking up into her amber eyes. “I’m fine. You just scared me.”

  She shook her head. “Scared you? Fleshy girl, that scream would have scared the fangs right out of a vampire’s mouth.”

  “Interesting saying,” I said with a frown. “By the way, what are you doing here?”

  She sighed. “Mike.”

  “Oh. Is he okay?” I asked hearing the coldness seep into my voice.

  “He’s fine,” she answered, giving me strange sort of look. “It’s just that when you called this morning, he was there and heard everythin’, which of course you know is just one of our many talents.” I nodded, and she continued. “So he left really angry, and then an hour later he comes back with this goofy smile on his face, tellin’ everybody that their meals are on him. What the hell did you do to him?”

  I frowned. “Got engaged to Elliot.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh…well…I guess that’s why he was happy then. Congrats by the way.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling pissed off that Mike could just forget me like I meant nothing to him. Well, if he was going to play it that way, so be it.

  I got up off the floor and straightened my nightshirt out. “Wait here, Angel. I’m going to get dressed.”

  “Sure thing,” she said with a smile. “I’ll stay like a good doggy.”

  I laughed a little, and then I walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I grabbed whatever was on top of my bag, went into the bathroom, got dressed, brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair up in a ponytail in record time.

  As I walked back into the living room, Angel’s mouth dropped. “Wow, fleshy girl,” she said from the couch. “That must have been some kinda record, and you look good too. Lovin’ the Stones shirt.”

  I managed a halfhearted smile. “Thanks. Would you like to do something with me today?”

  “Sure,” she said with a white, toothy grin. “Just let me call Nathan, and tell him to take my shift.”

  “Nathan works at Big Bears?” I asked confused.

  “Naw. But we’re a pack and we help each other out.”

  I really smiled at that. “That’s nice.”

  She got up off the couch, fishing her phone out of her dark blue jean pocket. I sat down where she was sitting, and as she dialed the number, I had some time to think about that awful dream. At least, I hoped it was a dream. After all, it felt so real…

  “All set,” Angel said, interrupting my internal babble, and when she tried to place her cell back in her pocket, it slipped out of her hand. “Dammit!”

  I raised my hand. “I’ll get it.” I told her as I slid off the couch, reaching underneath. But instead of feeling a cell phone, my hand came to rest upon something hard. “What the hell?” I grabbed whatever it was and pushed it out along with Angel’s phone.

  “What’s that?” Angel asked as she picked up her cell from the floor.

  I shrugged, sitting back down with the black shoebox in my hands. “I don’t know.”

  “Open it, fleshy girl,” Angel nudged my arm, sitting down next to me.

  “I don’t know…” my voice trailed away. I had a serious case of déjà vu. This reminded me of Samuel’s sketchpad, and I had a feeling that this was going to be even more disturbing.

  “Oh, come on. Live a little, Pat.”

  I looked into her eager face, and smiled. “Okay. Why not? Well,” I said with a sigh, “here goes nothing.” The lid to the box came off easily, and I closed my eyes before I looked. When Angel gasped beside me, they shot right open. Inside the box were pictures of yours truly.

  My hand trembled as I took them out and flipped through them. They consisted of me grocery shopping, me kissing Mike, and me in my old car driving. They were taken with a telephoto lens, and some of them were extremely close up while others were far away. I handed Angel the photos, digging deeper into the box.

  He had my credit card bills and my marriage license. He even had my divorce papers. “Son of a bitch,” I said loudly and with feeling. All this time I thought Samuel was playing with me, and it turns out that Stag had interfered with my mail.

  As I handed Angel the papers, she kept saying things like, “Holy shit,” “Stalker” and my personal favorite, “Well that explains it.”

  “Explains what?” I asked calmly, because
I was a millisecond away from hyperventilating.

  “Why he was busy all the time,” she answered, shaking her head. “He would tell us that it was work, but I knew better. Stag has never worked that hard in his life!”

  I shook my head, turning my attention back to the box. There was a crumpled envelope close to the bottom, and when I picked it up it felt wet, as if it had been handled a lot. I flipped it over in my hands, reading the return address. It was from Samuel. I opened the envelope carefully, taking out the crumpled letter inside.

  “Read it,” Angel said, taking the envelope. “It’s yours anyway.” She pointed to the receiving address.

  I unfolded the paper slowly, reading Samuel’s beautiful script quietly.

  “Read it out loud,” Angel said. “I wanna know what it says.”

  I cleared my throat and began to read. “Dear Patricia,

  “I know it is too late to apologize for what I have done to you, and I wish that you would forgive me. More than anything, I wish I could turn back the clock, but that is impossible. You see me as a monster now, and I do not blame you. Nevertheless, there is one thing that you must know.

  “Patricia, you have become my world. I think about you constantly, and I cannot seem to get you out of my head. I love you,” I read, rolling my eyes. “And I know you are most likely rolling your eyes at that,” —he knew me a little too well—, “but it does not make it any less true. I wish I would have told you those words each day that we were together, but I was too stubborn and set in my ways.

  “I do not know if you will read this or if you will just throw it in the trash. Either way, I just wanted you to know that I am truly sorry for your suffering, and I wish I could promise that it will never happen again. Still, I know that no matter how hard I try, I will always be the way I am. It is in my nature.” He kept saying that, and I still didn’t understand what it meant, but I let it go.

  “I will end this now by wishing you and the wolf all the happiness in the world, even though we both know that I do not mean it.” Yes, I know.