Wounded Wolf

by Moxie North

  “Maybe I’m going a little too fast for you.”

  “No, I like hearing about you. Learning new things is the best way to broaden one’s horizons. When people stop talking, then walls get built. Have you lived in Port May long?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Are you from around here?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm, you aren’t going to make this easy on me are you?”

  “I just keep my personal life private. I don’t need everyone knowing my business.”

  Pru felt like that was a direct dig at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I should probably get going anyway.” She looked down and started picking up her papers.

  “No, shit. I’m sorry. I like talking to you. You’re sweet as hell and you seem like a nice person. I’m just not the type of guy you should be hanging around. I’m what you would call a bad influence.”

  Maverick watched the light flare in her eyes for just a moment when he said he was a bad influence. Fucking hell, she was one of those closet bad girls. He could smell it. She got wet with just him suggesting he could get her into trouble. She was most definitely not making this easy on him.

  “Don’t you think I should get to decide who is a bad influence and who isn’t? Maybe I’m just as bad as you are. This persona is just a cover for my evil wicked ways.”

  Maverick stared at her hard, trying to gauge if she was just joking. He could see that she was trying to make it lighthearted, but the truth was behind it.

  “Babe, I can tell you are everything you seem, until the sun goes down and someone convinces you to let loose. Those evil and wicked ways are nothing compared to what I am.”

  He watched her pupils dilate and she swallowed hard. Yeah, he hit the nail on the head with that.

  “Hmm, maybe you are a little too much for me to handle,” she said, pursing her lips. It made him want to kiss her breathless.

  “You interested in handling me?”

  This time she gave a slight jerk at his words. There was a myriad of emotions playing over her face. He was betting that she was thinking about all the ways she could handle him. He knew he was thinking of the same things.

  He had to get control of this and fast.

  “So have you lived here long?”

  Maverick asked the question to be polite. Fact was he was interested. His wolf was sitting patiently in his mind waiting for the answer. Maybe if he got to know her a little, it would appease his animal.

  Mav was pretty good at lying to himself.

  He watched as she animatedly told him about growing up in Port May, her parents, and her life goals. She actually talked about life goals. That wasn’t so uncommon, but she started telling him what they were for her when she was in kindergarten. Maverick listened, nodded, and stayed focused even though there were people coming and going from the room. Nick should have shown up by now. Mav had a sneaking suspicion that the man was hanging back on purpose.

  Prudence moved onto her year traveling. Her eyes lit up along with her spirit as she told him about the people she met, the lives she witnessed, and the happiness to be found when there should only have been sorrow.

  She spoke with such feeling and joy at being able to be among people totally unlike what she had known growing up. Maverick could tell it was something deep inside her, this ability to accept others and see the beauty in their differences.

  If the fates were trying to throw him signs, these were neon. It didn’t change the fact that the more he learned about her, the more he decided she deserved the world. She needed a man that would come home from his nine-to-five and play with the kids. A husband and father that would mow the lawn on Saturday and laugh when his family didn’t understand his need to watch a football game. Prudence needed that stability. She might not even know it, but she did.

  Maverick interrupted a story about the women she worked for. “Prudence, what’s your last name?”

  “Wow, my mother would be horrified at my lack of manners. I’m Prudence Boyer.”

  “Middle name?” He wasn’t sure why he needed to know that. It wasn’t like he’d be running a background check on her or her credit report.

  “Angelique. It was my mother’s great-grandmother’s name. They never had a good reason for naming me Prudence. Maybe they were hoping it would reflect in my personality in the future. I don’t know if my life choices to date have been very prudent.” She said this with a giggle.

  “Well, it suits you. I should probably find Nick and see about my new socket.”

  It was an abrupt end to their conversation. Mav was feeling too comfortable talking to her. He was feeling…happy or content. He wasn’t really sure. It had been so long since those emotions had even dared to show their faces. It was probably when he was back with his family pack, running through the woods with them.

  The last time he’d been happy. If that didn’t show what a sad sack he was, he couldn’t guess what would.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you. I’ve been talking your ear off. You have to stop me. I’ll keep chattering away. My mom used to call me a chatterbox. Well, she still does. ‘Prudence stop yammering, it’s not ladylike.’”

  Mav saw her stop short, realizing she was now filling the awkwardness with talking. It was endearing and he really needed to get away from her.

  “No problem. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He said that as a statement, not a question. If he was smart, he’d avoid her. It wasn’t like he couldn’t smell her when he walked into the waiting room. He told himself to turn around and walk away. Reschedule his appointment. Instead, he strode right in and tracked her scent. He wanted to blame his wolf. It could have been him running the show, or maybe that was just a cop out. He wanted to be near her just as much as his animal did.

  “Okay, yeah, maybe we’ll run into each other again.” He could see she was feeling the abrupt ending to their conversation. It was hurting her feelings and Maverick had to ignore it.

  “Sure,” he said, giving her a chin lift as a dismissal.

  His wolf was setting up a racket that they were letting their mate go, yet again. Maverick held him back. This was for her own good. They didn’t have to be happy if it meant Prudence had a chance at a real life. A life away from tough bikers that tended to act first and never think about the consequences.

  No matter what his life turned out like, he’d always be part of the Redemption pack. Deacon Kane had saved his life and he owed him that. It didn’t even take long after they met for his wolf to accept him as alpha. Wolf packs could be more fluid than other shifter groups. Their allegiances were based on respect and earned position. Other packs were all about family. They didn’t have to fight for position like canine packs did.

  The woman meant to be his turned and walked away, pausing at the door to give him one last look and a small smile before leaving.

  It fucking gutted him.

  Prudence paced back and forth in the store viciously rearranging skeins of yarn, throwing them into the recycled apple crates they used to store and display them.

  “I was nice! We had a nice conversation. He asked me about my life. Why would he do that if he didn’t want to get to know me? I love talking about myself!” Prudence knew her voice kept rising, but the sisters didn’t seem to mind.

  “Who doesn’t like talking about themselves? Maverick Hale, that’s who. He asked me my middle name. Why? Was it some kind of test? Did I not pass the friend test because my name doesn’t meet up? Was it because I didn’t ask him about his life? No! I did ask him about his life, or I tried. He declined my request.”

  “Declined your request, hmm?” Ethel was knitting as usual, but kept her eyes not on her knit one purl two, but on Prudence.

  “Pfft, he told me flat out he doesn’t talk about himself. Like that was an okay thing to say to someone when you are having a polite, civilized conversation!”

  Pru knew she needed to get herself under control. She was ranting, and her mother always said ranting was a
sign of the uneducated. Pru thought it was a sign of those that were passionate. One of the many ways she and her mother didn’t see eye to eye.

  “So he asked about you, then just what, left?”

  “No! I would have understood that he had to go to therapy or that Nick was coming to start his appointment. That would have made sense. I could have politely excused myself. Left things on a positive note. Instead, he dismissed me.”

  Claire made a shocked noise. “He did what?”

  “Dis-missed-me!”

  “You should have asked him on a date before he dis-missed-you.” Claire dragged out the two words like she had, but with a little more flourish.

  “I did! I asked him for coffee, like a chump. He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t do coffee.’ What does that even mean? You don’t like it? It’s against your religion? When someone invites you to coffee you go, have a tea, or a glass of freaking ice water!”

  Prudence plopped down on the floor and leaned against the front wall of the sales counter. “He’s so handsome and he smells good.”

  “How did you smell him?” Ethel asked with glee.

  Prudence blushed to the roots of her hair. “He hugged me,” she admitted.

  “Hugged you!” both women said in unison.

  “That’s how it all started. I got upset when he was short. I started tearing up like a girl picked last during gym class. He hugged me. Wrapped me right up in his really, really strong arms.” Prudence let her head fall back against the wood paneling with a thunk.

  “Whoo-ee, girl, you are in a heap of trouble and you caused it all. You let the man hug you?”

  “I didn’t let him do anything! He just…did it.”

  “Uh-huh. Just a friendly hug in greeting or was there a reason?” Ethel asked this knowing good and well there was more to the story. She was going to suss it out one way or another.

  “Well, no. I called him some not-very-nice names and he called me on it. He was totally right. I just got a little emotional and you know me, I started crying. Not like bawling or anything, just that teary-eyed bullshit that girls hate.”

  “So you were gonna cry and he hugged you? Interesting…” Claire said, giving Ethel a raised eyebrow.

  “No, not interesting, weak. I’m not a weak woman, damn it! But then he wrapped his arms around me. It was easily the best hug I’ve ever had. He was strong, firm, and smelled like a man should.”

  “Oh honey, we know that smell. Nothing like it in the world. You know I saw on 60 Minutes that when you fall in love, you are actually falling in love with how someone smells. You can’t be really in love unless you like their natural body odor. Well not odor, scent, you know.” Claire made a gesture with her hand flipping through the air.

  “I didn’t fall in love with his smell. I just, I don’t know, there is something about him. Why on earth am I attracted to a man that I have nothing in common with? I dreamed about him. You shouldn’t dream about strangers. Your subconscious should know better.”

  “It does, dummy. It tells you what you really want, but won’t admit. I say you show up at the club and bring a picnic. That used to turn a boy’s head in my day,” Ethel suggested.

  “Showing off your ankle to every Tom, Dick, and Harry turned the boys’ heads,” Claire scoffed.

  Ethel snorted. “Like you didn’t always pin flowers to your décolletage just to get them to stare at your bosoms.”

  Prudence loved watching the ladies banter back and forth. It was better than television. She loved them and didn’t know what she would do when they were gone.

  “I’m not that forward kind of girl. I mean, I don’t mind talking to people, but that’s what got me into this mess. No, it’s not a mess. That’s not positive talk. It’s a, well, it’s an opportunity.”

  Prudence knew she was sounding less than confident trying to convince herself. She thought about stopping the conversation with the ladies and forgetting about Maverick Hale. That would be, for lack of a better term, the prudent thing to do. There was something about him. A pull to him that Pru knew she couldn’t resist and not feel very out of line with the universe. She needed to see him again, but he might not be back at rehab. If she wanted to see him, she was going to have to be bold.

  “You know, we know where the club is. They took over the old summer camp outside of town. You could stop by and see if he’s there. Try the coffee thing again, or better yet, offer to buy him a beer. Men love beer.” Both sisters nodded their heads enthusiastically at Pru.

  “I don’t think you are supposed to walk up to the... what, headquarters... of a motorcycle club and knock on the door like you’re selling Avon.”

  Ethel made her scoffing noise again. “Why not? Do you have any idea how much we get away with by playing dumb? Oh, I’m not supposed to use this door? Oh my, was there a line we skipped? Honey, at our age, no one calls us on our bullshit. Just bat your eyelashes and tilt your head to the side. Works every time.”

  Pru stared at the women in awe. They were evil geniuses and she was impressed. That spark inside her that always made her take a leap of faith was telling her to give it a shot. What was the worst that could happen anyway?

  Chapter 13

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Pru was rethinking her game plan. She had decided that she’d never get a good night’s sleep again unless she figured out if there was something between her and Maverick. She did make a promise to herself. If she was able to talk to him today and he was a jerk, then she could officially write him off. She wasn’t a masochist and she wasn’t about to punish herself by thinking about a man that wasn’t into her.

  Cocky bravery got her this far, and this far was standing at the entrance to the Redemption compound. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Too many television shows about motorcycle clubs had skewed her perception of real life, that was for certain. No barbed wire fencing, guards on high positions, or fistfights surrounded by a crowd of cheering men. None of that.

  Instead, they had put their name up over the road that used to lead into the summer camp. The dirt road was hard packed and smooth with trees on both sides, with no other signs that it was your typical place that bikers would gather.

  She’d borrowed the sisters’ Cadillac that they hadn’t driven in years but kept regular tune-ups on. They had a neighbor boy drive it around town once a month so it didn’t get lot rot. It was one of those older models from the Seventies. It was all hood and trunk and Prudence understood the term “land yacht” now. You had to plan your turns like you were driving a semi-truck. It was comfy, and for that she was grateful. She was also grateful that if she didn’t think she could get out of the car and chickened out, she was safely behind some tough American steel.

  Prudence decided that after her conversation with the sisters she couldn’t wait and let herself think about it too much. She had to see if there was something with her mystery man before she realized it was a crazy idea. Which it was. No convincing from the sisters was going to change that. If she had to explain to anyone else what she was doing they would certainly try to talk her out of it.

  She was already at the gates. There was no reason not to press her right foot down on the accelerator and push forward with her insane plan.

  “Once more unto the breach,” she murmured to herself.

  Pru headed down the dirt road at a slow enough pace to keep the dust from kicking up. It wasn’t long until she started to see cabins come into view. They were grouped together, and most looked abandoned.

  A few had motorcycles parked outside, and a few more had rough-looking men leaning over the porches. Their eyes were on her and nothing else. She kept going, keeping her eyes forward. She didn’t know where she was heading or what she was even looking for. She doubted there was going to be a big arrow pointing at a building that said Maverick is in here. Pru hoped she’d come across a friendly face that might offer some helpful information.

  The trees started to open up into a large clear area that had buildings surro
unding a flag pole in the center. The pole had a huge American flag on the top with a POW/MIA flag underneath it. Both were snapping in the breeze.

  Prudence looked around to see if she could decipher if there was an office, or check-in spot. Did bikers need to check in? She wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. Still, she was going to use the Ethel and Claire method of pretend ignorance to see how far it would get her.

  Prudence parked her car near a row of motorcycles that were in front of a building that was longer than all the others. She made sure to park far enough away that she wouldn’t make any of those bikers nervous seeing her boat parked next to their rides.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned off the car and swung open the huge metal door, grabbing her purse, and getting out. It made an obnoxiously loud squeaking noise from lack of use. She was pretty sure even the trees knew she was there now.

  Closing the door, she scanned the area and saw a picnic table off to the side of the building. There were two younger men sitting on the top of the table. One looked fairly skittish and the other was smiling at her in a way that made her distinctly uncomfortable. Not seeing any other options, she squared her shoulders and strode towards the men. As she got closer, she plastered her friendliest smile on her face and said a little too chipper, “Hi there!”

  “Hello yourself,” the staring man replied.

  “Hi,” she said again, trying to engage the other man who just gave her a head nod. “I’m looking for Maverick Hale. Would you know where I can find him?”

  “Mav, huh? I didn’t think he partook of the lost girls. You’re new. Haven’t seen you around before. You know Mav isn’t all that. I could show you a much better time than he could.”

  Prudence’s creep-o-meter redlined, but she didn’t see anyone else she could talk to, so she trudged ahead.

  “I was really hoping to see Maverick. I know him from—uh—somewhere else.” Prudence didn’t know how much of his life he’d shared with this man. She wasn’t about to say anything to a stranger, knowing how private Maverick was.