by Dannika Dark
My eyes widened as he turned and went back inside.
A pair of headlights from a red sports car temporarily blinded me until I covered my face. I grumbled when Hawk beeped his horn. He knew how much I hated being honked at.
A good-looking man wearing a sleeveless black shirt jogged in my direction—presumably the bartender who worked the late shift. I could see why Jake would want him during peak; he had a mess of sexy blond hair and an athletic build. I guessed him to stand just shy of six feet tall.
“How’s it going, honeypie?” he said, jogging up the steps and giving me a friendly wink.
I slid a last glance at the entrance to Howlers before getting in the car and ending the first night of my new life.
Chapter 2
My eyes snapped open when someone slapped my ass and jolted me awake.
“Get up, sexy.”
I flew at Hawk, clocking him in the jaw with my fist.
“Holy fuck, girl! What the hell is your problem?”
“You know what!” I caught my breath and sat up against the headboard, knees to my chest. My heart pounded out of control as I remembered when my sister used to shift into her cougar and prowl on my bed in the morning. “I told you I don’t like being woken up like that.”
I preferred soft kisses to the back of my neck by a lover, or even a plate of food beneath my nose. I often had violent outbursts when I was startled awake—sometimes shifting into my wolf.
And nobody wanted to tangle with my wolf from what I’d heard. She had a nasty temper and represented my alter ego with a proud wag of her tail.
“I’m not in the mood to fry bacon just to wake your ass up. Deal with it. I’m heading out to take care of business. It’s already two in the afternoon, so I think you need to get moving and shower for work.”
“Maybe my customers like me stinky.” I snatched up an automotive magazine from the end table in our garish bedroom.
Whatever he did, Hawk made money. Good money. He also liked to flaunt it, and a man with money and no taste was not an agreeable mix. Seashells and birds decorated our mauve bedspread, the oval tables were made of etched glass, the brass lamps were shaped like a woman’s nude body, and don’t even get me started on the hideous drapes. It wasn’t the style so much as the money he coughed up to make it so atrocious.
“I’m letting you drive to work tonight, but if you come home late, the deal is off.”
I swung my legs over the bed and stood up. “Letting me?”
He spanked my ass again, and I scowled at him. “Yeah, letting you. Just remember who pays the bills around here.”
“Not for long!” I snarled, slamming the bathroom door.
That just rubbed me the wrong way. Hawk could be a real jerk when he wanted, bragging about how he brought in the cash and how grateful I should be. He didn’t think I could pull in much money as a waitress, but little did he know. I had this niggling feeling that our relationship was doomed. Eventually Hawk was going to become insecure about his woman making money and would give me an ultimatum. I’d never allowed anyone to dictate how I live my life. Maybe I didn’t look like much of a tough girl with my slender frame and innocent face, but a female wolf either learns to be assertive or becomes nothing more than a submissive bitch.
And I was nobody’s bitch.
I’d seen the influence some corrupt packs had on their women. I felt sorry for those girls. Not the ones with a sharp tongue, but the girls who’d lost their identities after being swallowed up by the dominance of an unworthy mate. It wasn’t the Shifter way, because most of the men revered their mates, protected them, and supported their desires to work or raise a family. Shifter women were outspoken and headstrong, but it frightened me to think I might end up in the wrong pack.
At least with rogues, I didn’t have a sense of being trapped. Lone wolves were sometimes involved in criminal activities in order to pay the bills. They saw themselves as badasses who didn’t need to follow orders, but most were just men who had issues. Only a rare few were alphas. Alphas instinctively formed packs, but once or twice I’d run into a lone alpha. Those were the dudes I stayed far away from.
Scary dudes.
After my shower, I shaved my legs and gave them the full shea-butter treatment. I used to wear pants, but now I dressed the way I wanted, and if I ended up with a scratch or mark, I’d shift long enough to heal it. I just had to deal with my wolf getting pissed at me for not letting her stay out. Hell, maybe some of her attitude helped me get through a rough night. Eventually I’d succumb to the call—like all Shifters do—and allow her two nights a week to run loose.
Not on the streets, of course. I didn’t know my way around Austin well enough, so I’d been confined to the backyard after I’d torn up Hawk’s drapes. I guess my wolf didn’t like his taste either.
I threw on a pair of frayed jean shorts and a sleeveless white shirt. There were a few things I needed, so I headed to the drugstore. By then, Hawk had already left the house.
While driving, my cell phone rang, and I quickly answered. “This is the party to whom you are speaking.”
A laugh bubbled on the other end. “Izzy, this is Rosie. I talked to Jake and put in a good word. I think you work harder than some of the other girls, but don’t tell them that. And a few regulars were asking about you after you left. Jake’s offering you full peak hours if you want them. Can you handle that?”
I found a parking spot outside the store and shut off the engine. “Of course! That’s great news. Thanks so much, Rosie. I won’t let you down. I’ll keep the drinks and food moving, and let me know if you need any help with promotions. I used to hand out flyers on the weekdays to promote special events. I don’t know the laws around here for posting them on poles, but I can do that too.”
“Thanks, hon. I’ll tell Jake, but we got a guy who does that already.”
“A guy?” My flats crunched on the asphalt when I stepped out of the car. “Nothing sells a gig like a girl. Most of our customers are men and they need a little motivation. Their girls get sexed up by the band, they flirt with the waitresses, and everyone goes home and gets a little nookie.”
“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I said to Jake a long time ago I thought I could walk the streets for money, and he didn’t think it was a good idea.”
I belted out a laugh and strolled into Walgreens. “If you said it like that, Rosie, then I’d have to agree with him. Do you want me to be there at eight?”
“If you want to come in early and prep or have dinner, that’s okay. Staff eats for free, just so you know.”
A young man in flip-flops and long shorts gave me a cheesy grin. I didn’t return the smile. Handsome or not, I never cared to see a man’s hairy toes wiggling in a pair of sandals.
“Sounds gravy. Look, I need to let you go. I’ll see you tonight?”
“I’m there every night, hon.”
Rosie hung up, and I perused the nail-polish aisle. My hair swung from a loose ponytail, and the only makeup I had on was tinted lip balm and a little blush. Occasionally I’d apply eyeliner for work, but over the years, I’d learned to accept my flaws as part of what made me Isabelle Monroe. I realized that beauty had more to do with confidence. I’d seen plenty of knockouts who walked with their head down, and men didn’t give them the time of day.
The trick was to walk with your chin up and center your eyes on a man, as if you had a sexy secret. Then, just as you pass him, look down and nibble on your lip. But always look back over your shoulder at him. Men are perceptive about body language—something I’d learned working in bars.
I lifted the orange nail polish and examined it under the fluorescent light.
“Try the matte green,” a young woman on my right suggested.
I glanced over at a girl with striking beauty. I admired the trendy cut of her blond hair—short with long bangs sheared at an angle. She looked at me with charcoal-lined eyes and lifted a curvy bottle from the rack.
“Normally I hate the stereot
ypes about redheads wearing green, but this color would look great on you because of your fair complexion.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Looks like it’s on sale.”
“The top shelf is half off, so check out some of the shimmery colors with a touch of pink. Sorry, don’t mean to be nosy.”
“Not at all. You seem to know your stuff, and I never turn down free advice,” I said, noticing the bright purple polish on her nails. “I’m Izzy. I just moved here a few weeks ago.”
She dropped a bottle of electric blue into her basket, and it rolled over a paperback novel. “I’m April Frost. Where are you originally from? I don’t hear much of an accent.”
“All over,” I replied with a soft laugh. “We’ll see how this goes.”
“It’s not a bad place to live as long as you don’t mind hot weather. I work a few blocks down at Sweet Treats.”
“What’s that?”
She shrugged and examined an eyeliner pencil. “It’s a candy shop, but it’s not just for kids. I guarantee you’ll find something in there you like. Stop by and I’ll give you the first item for free.”
“Very savvy,” I said, noticing her eyes flash up to mine. “A local business, right? No need to work your charm, you have a new customer. I know how important it is to reel ’em in.”
She laughed and passed the basket over to her other hand. “I’d recommend going there even if I wasn’t the manager. We have the best chocolates you’ve ever tasted.”
“Yum. So, I see you like reading?”
She blushed and twisted the basket away, trying to hide her romance novel. “My best friend is going to kill me for getting this. I try to buy everything on the e-reader he gave me, but I can’t seem to walk into a store that sells books without putting one in my basket. It’s like crack.”
A man walked by with a bottle of shampoo, rushing toward the register. April accidentally backed into him, and one of her jeweled sandals slipped off. She blushed and smiled apologetically before he kept going.
“I’ll swing by this week, April. Nice meeting you, and thanks for the polish tip.”
“You too, Izzy. I like that name.”
She disappeared toward the shampoo aisle, and I wandered up front and placed a box of protein bars in my basket.
“Will this be all for you, ma’am?” the cashier asked.
“Yes, please.”
I hated being called ma’am. I knew I still looked in my mid-twenties, but I hated being addressed so formally, even if I understood the reason behind it. Personally, I never called my customers sir. I learned their names and established a relationship with them. But humans had their customs.
An insistent ring chimed from my purse, and I pulled out my phone. “This is the party to whom you are—”
“Izzy, goddammit.”
I paid the cashier. “Hi, Hawk. Did you forget something?”
Like telling me how much he loved me. Which he never did; we didn’t have that kind of relationship. He loved my ass, loved my meatloaf, and he even loved my red hair. But he didn’t love me.
“Where are you?”
“Shopping for the necessities.”
“I need you to necessitate your ass home. I ran into some trouble, and I want you to get off the streets.”
Get off the streets? Who says that?
“Hawk, I’m fine. Nobody in this city knows who I am, let alone where I am,” I said, walking toward my cute little blue car.
“Izzy,” he warned.
“I have to pick up some groceries on the way home and buy a new bra.”
“Izzy…”
“I’m hanging up now…”
Hawk was mad. I could hear it in the inflection of his profanities. “Get your fucking ass home right fucking now. I will find you, come get you, and drag you home if I have to.”
“Fine,” I growled in the phone, stuffing it into my purse.
I slumped in my car and shut the door, wondering why it was so hard to find a good Shifter. Either they were bossy or they would treat me like one of the guys. Maybe I wanted to be spoiled once in a while. But Shifters could be abrasive, belligerent men. Except with their life mate. I’d convinced myself those women possessed a secret love potion they weren’t sharing with the general public—one that tamed the primitive ways of a Shifter and made them do romantic things like buy flowers and rub their woman’s feet with scented oils.
Deciding not to argue, I turned the key and rolled down the windows, ready to head home.
Until a long arm reached through my window and yanked my keys out of the ignition.
“Hey!” I squinted and glanced up, wondering if someone was playing a prank.
“You sure that’s her?”
A man with a black mustache shaped like an upside-down horseshoe bent over and looked at me with droopy eyes. It looked like a biker mustache, although I didn’t know all the different names for facial hair. It resembled a long set of handlebars to me.
“Yeah, that’s her,” he replied.
As soon as I reached for the passenger door, he caught my left arm in a tight grip.
“Haul her in,” the other voice said. “Let Delgado decide what he wants to do with her.”
“Let me go!”
Handlebars tugged my arm and glanced up at my hair. “You a real redhead?”
I bit my lip. Redheads learned not to answer that question; it always led to another question we had heard a million times before, one about the carpet matching the drapes.
“Come on, sweetie.” The door clicked open and he jerked me to my feet. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“What’s this about?” I wrenched away and held on to the door.
“It’s about your boyfriend, Hawk. He’s been overcharging and taking a cut. Our boss doesn’t like people stealing from him.”
I furrowed my brow. “Is this about drugs?”
Handlebars stirred with laughter and shifted his eyes at the guy behind me. He was a scrawny little bug-eyed man, missing a front tooth. I didn’t sense this guy was Breed. I felt confident dealing with humans, but the last thing I needed was for my wolf to get cocky and shift in broad daylight. That kind of stunt could land me in trouble with the authorities.
“Ain’t she adorable?” Handlebars chuckled and leveled out his tone. “I say we keep her. Yeah, sweetie, it’s about drugs. Your boyfriend was set up this morning by Delgado and busted in the act. Before our guy could take him out, Hawk fired a few rounds and took off. We’re looking for him, and we know he’ll be looking for you.”
I stilled in shock. Drugs? Exchanging gunfire?
“How do you know I’m Hawk’s girlfriend?”
“Sweetie, Delgado makes it his business to know everything.”
He jerked my arm forward and I dug in my heels. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Handlebars suddenly bent over, hooked his arms around my waist, and threw me over his shoulder. I pounded my fists against his back and cursed. Then I ran my hand over his back pocket, hoping he’d have a switchblade in there.
“Why don’t you put the girl down, and I won’t slam your face into the asphalt. How ’bout that?” a voice threatened, making all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This guy was definitely Breed.
I peered around and saw a fierce man sitting on a Triumph motorcycle. I caught a glimpse of a gun strapped beneath his arm. Was he a bounty hunter? He got off his motorcycle and stalked toward the little guy, throwing a hard fist and knocking him out cold before the poor human could give him his best “go to hell” speech.
Then it was between him and Handlebars.
“This is none of your business. Walk away,” my kidnapper said in a cool voice.
I couldn’t see any of the action because I was ass-out, waiting for the stranger to either save my life or get himself killed.
Then I heard the click of a gun and froze. Oh my God! He’s going to shoot me in the ass!
“Let me go!” I screamed, wiggling and flailing li
ke a dolphin caught in a fisherman’s net.
“Shut the hell up!” He smacked me so hard on the back of my leg I cried out in pain.
A gunshot went off, Handlebars bent forward, and vertigo took over as I was about to meet the concrete.
“Gotcha,” the motorcycle man said. Strong arms caught me from behind, and he tossed me into my car.
I didn’t care for being manhandled, but I didn’t hesitate to leap into action when my keys landed in my lap. I shoved the key in the ignition with a shaky hand, barely closed my door, and threw the car into reverse.
The last thing I saw was Motorcycle Man kicking the shit out of Handlebars, who was clutching his bleeding leg. When April came jogging out of the store, I almost slammed on the brakes. The thought was extinguished when she grabbed Motorcycle Man by the collar and dragged him away with a scowl on her face.
Texas was going to be an interesting place to live. Who knew such a quiet girl hung out with one serious badass who carried a gun?
A man I didn’t know, but I owed him.
Chapter 3
“Honey, you don’t look so good tonight,” Rosie said in a glum voice. She set down her glass of Dr Pepper and began filing her nails.
“I think I’m just having one of those days.” I tried to brush off the fact that a man with tacky facial hair had been trying to kidnap me until a biker shot him in the leg. “How do you like my new nail polish?”
“It’s green.” She turned up her nose and showed me her nails. Rosie had broken one and was filing it down, but the rest of them had been given the full treatment at the salon. Rosie was the kind of woman who believed a good manicure was a religious experience. “Is that all you’re going to eat? You need energy if you want to keep up with this crowd.” She stared at my salad and wiped a smudge of ink off her hand.
“I’m not especially hungry,” I said truthfully. I hadn’t heard from Hawk and wasn’t sure if those thugs knew where I worked. It wasn’t likely or they would have already shown up, but that didn’t stop me from taking the long, long way to work.
“A big act is coming in tonight, hon. You should fuel up on a hearty dinner, because the ladies will wear you out with their orders.”
