by Dannika Dark
“And yeah, I did. I don’t turn a blind eye to a man handling a woman that way. There’s a line you don’t cross with me, and it wouldn’t have mattered if you were a human or another Breed. You treat a woman right,” he said, kissing April’s forehead in a possessive way that clearly showed his devotion to that human.
I smiled at both of them and touched his broad shoulder. “We need more good men like you. Anyhow, hope you guys enjoy your evening. April, I’d love to swing by your store this week. Hopefully you have some of the old-fashioned candy I love so much.”
“We sure do. I usually work the afternoon and evening shift,” she said. “I’ll make you up a special bag for your first visit.”
As I left the table, contentment filled me up. I’d always thought it was important to show respect when someone stretched out their neck for you. It’s what Jericho had taught me during our years on the road.
Ugh. And there were those thoughts of Jericho surfacing again.
As I approached the bar, a tall man sitting on the stool pivoted around with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He had brooding, wanton eyes, and despite my irritation with him, they still made me flush all over. Jericho wasn’t built like Reno, or even Denver. He was over six feet tall with slender muscles, but not skinny. I didn’t have x-ray vision, but back in the day, he used to have a six-pack that made the girls salivate. Jericho knew damn well how to wield the sex appeal that God blessed him with. He’d pulled back his hair into a loose ponytail, several strands falling around his face. His black jeans and concert shirt fit him snugly, and I got a better look at the tattoo on his left arm. It was a guitar half-filled with ink, like a yin-yang design with sexy curves.
He watched me with jade eyes rimmed in black—a creamier shade than mine. They stood out because he was wearing smudged eyeliner, and I found myself noticing little things about his appearance. Like the rings on his fingers, and the long chain that hung from his back pocket and attached to one of his belt loops.
Ignoring him was an exercise in futility. So rather than pretend what we both knew I couldn’t ignore, I casually approached him and leaned on my left elbow.
“How was your walk home?” he asked, his lips twitching.
I munched on a salty pretzel from a bowl on the bar. “I’ve always enjoyed an early morning stroll. The fresh air does amazing things for my skin. I should do it more often.”
Tension crackled between us—the urge to slip into our old banter battled it out with the animosity I felt.
I dusted the salt from my fingers, and a few rowdy men shouted from a nearby table. I glanced their way when Jericho suddenly hopped off his stool and roughly pinched my chin. He was a good seven inches taller than I was, so he bent down to examine me closer. He brushed back my hair and tilted my head.
“What is wrong with you?” I finally said, knocking away his arm. As I leapt off the stool, he corralled me against the bar and pulled my hair back, gripping it with a tight fist. I couldn’t move and was three seconds away from calling for help, although I had doubts Denver would gallantly leap over the bar to break this one up.
Jericho brushed his fingers across my jaw. “Who put that mark on your neck?”
Warmth touched my cheeks. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Huh?”
“Your neck, Isabelle. There are fingerprint bruises in the places that someone would grab you if they were pinning you to a wall.”
I wriggled free. “And how would you know something like that, Jericho?”
Wrong. Jericho would never lay a hand on a woman, but I was piping mad.
His jaw set. “I may not like you, Isabelle.” He captured my wrist and tugged me a little closer with each statement. “I may be mad as hell for what you did to me all those years ago—making me think something bad had happened to you. I may want to have Jake fire your ass and toss you on the streets. I also may want to stop coming in here so I won’t have to run into you at every turn. But nobody puts his hands on you.”
And there it was. An indirect declaration that Jericho still cared about me, if even a smidge. It could have been sheer principle that I was a woman who had been manhandled—although I hadn’t noticed any bruising when I’d left the house. But the intensity that burned in his eyes left me with a question mark about his feelings for me.
“My life isn’t your business anymore,” I said ruefully.
He let go and turned away, drinking his beer as if I’d never been there.
A knot formed in my stomach as I stared at his back. I wanted to know why he was so upset with me when he was the one who’d destroyed our friendship.
“Izzy, hon, your table is about to have a conniption if you don’t take their order.” Rosie pointed at a group of men who had reached their limit.
“I cut them off. They’ve had too much to drink and I’m not going to be responsible for them driving home drunk and killing someone.”
“Then bring them an order of hamburgers, but if you don’t shake your ass over there, they’re going to cause trouble.”
Jericho slid a half-interested glance over his shoulder.
I pressed my lips together and approached my table. “Now, how about I bring out some cheeseburgers?”
A hand slapped my ass. “How about I have a taste of this juicy burger?”
“Don’t put your hand on me again,” I said in a tight voice.
“Whoa. Those redheads like to give orders,” a guy in a leather jacket said with a deep chuckle. “A fiery temper in the sack warms the cockles of my heart every time.”
“She can warm my cockles,” the man to my left said, cupping his leathery hand around the back of my thigh. “I love a girl who looks sweet in the face. I bet you’d look real sweet down on your knees.”
“I think you’ve had too much to drink. Why don’t you—”
I gasped when someone snatched the back of my shirt and hauled me aside. I gripped a chair to keep from falling and looked up at Jericho, who lit up a cigarette with a flick of his silver lighter.
“Who invited you?” one of the guys spat.
I shouted for Denver when the men rose from the table. Jericho kept his cool, taking a long drag of his cigarette before blowing smoke in their faces.
My heart raced. What do I do? We didn’t have bouncers in this bar; that job had been left to the bartender and a few guys in the kitchen.
Reno, Wheeler, and Trevor materialized behind Jericho without a word. My table seemed more concerned with the likes of Wheeler, who folded his arms and incinerated them with his molten gaze. Jericho’s brothers took a stance that left no question they were a pack—and a pack lived, ate, and fought together. I didn’t know what kind of animals the idiots at my table were, but they looked intimidated.
Jericho pulled another drag from his cigarette and smashed the butt in the ashtray. “Why don’t you walk outta here before we take matters into our own hands? I don’t like seeing greedy men putting their hands on a woman disrespectfully, and neither do my brothers. Don’t fuck with the Weston pack.”
To my surprise, the men spat a few obscenities and cowardly walked away.
“They must have been deer,” Trevor said with a cocky laugh.
“More like chickens,” Wheeler suggested, his arms still crossed.
Trevor looked disappointed as he turned away. “Well, I got my wolf all amped up for nothing. How about next time we don’t deliver a threat and just beat their sorry asses?”
Reno chuckled and messed up Trevor’s hair. “Some battles aren’t worth fighting.”
As the men dispersed, a warm feeling slid over my body when I looked up at Jericho. His eyes were hooded and low, but when he melted me with a possessive gaze, my feet cemented to the floor.
He moved toward me with the grace of a panther—slow and predatory. The external noise from the bar faded away, and all I heard were his silken words as he caressed the ends of my hair, looking at it between his fingers.
“You haven’t changed,” he said in quie
t words.
“What do you mean by that?”
Jericho bent down and his mouth brushed against my ear. “Still sexy as sin and making me protect you.”
Goose bumps erupted over my arms. “No one said you had to protect me. I’m not the shy girl you once knew.” My heart raced. The inflection in my tone wasn’t as harsh as I’d planned it to be, my words breathy and unsure.
His warm body pressed against mine and when I stepped back, I bumped into a wooden post that pinned me to him. Tingles raced through my body uncontrollably, and I lost the ability to think rationally when I smelled his cologne. Men never had this kind of effect on me. His power slid down my body like hands against my naked flesh.
Jericho had a smile that aroused, and combined with his voice, it became an aphrodisiac.
Or maybe it was the way his callused fingers lightly stroked the back of my neck, as if I were an instrument. As he played me, memories flooded my mind, and I shoved him away, panting and trembling.
Jericho worked his jaw in a frustrated manner, his brows slanting down with a look of disbelief. He shook his head and then backed up.
A brunette appeared out of nowhere in a revealing top that displayed her breasts like cookies in a bakery: warm, tempting, and something you’d regret later.
“How’s my sexy man?” she asked, tucking her fingers possessively in his jeans and nipping on his arm. “You want to go have some fun?”
His eyes stayed locked on mine as he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She moaned playfully as he squeezed her hip, testing if I had my temper under control.
So I played his game.
“Can I get you a drink, honey?” I asked her. “Maybe some milk in a dish?”
Sometimes I could spot the cats. It was all in the purr and the way they slinked their bodies.
“No, thanks,” she replied. “I have something else in mind I want to put in my mouth.”
When she stroked his crotch, I blinked in surprise. Not just because she had the audacity to do that in front of me, but the fact that Jericho tilted his head and gave me a “so what?” look.
So what?
Maybe he was right. All that connected us were five amazing years, and that was a lifetime ago. Seeing him made me raw again. Those feelings caught up with me like a shadow that had never let go. Part of me wanted to squeeze him tight and tell him how much I’d missed him—because I had. Jericho had shown me the private side of himself he never gave to others, and I’d done the same for him. Another part of me wanted to hate him for the anguish he’d put me through. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel elated knowing that despite his insolence, Jericho wasn’t lying in a grave as I’d imagined. He’d somehow assembled his life into something meaningful and gotten a grip on his demons.
Meanwhile, my demons were currently on the rampage and waving pitchforks.
So I said cutting words that hurt because I meant them, and yet I didn’t.
“I wish I’d never met you.”
Chapter 6
At four in the morning, I swapped out my work clothes for loose jeans, flip-flops, and a thin sweatshirt. My feet had survived another brutal night in my new shoes. I stuffed the black heels in my locker along with my work attire. Lockers were assigned to all the employees to store our personal belongings. Without a home to go to, I had no access to a washer and dryer. What I really wanted was a shower to erase the smell of cigarettes and spilled beer, but I didn’t have that luxury either.
I’d temporarily split with Hawk, and I’d have to stand by that choice, even if it meant smelling like a barnyard animal.
I also had a psychopath human shadowing me, and I didn’t feel safe sleeping in my car. This put me in a predicament. I’d slept on the streets in my younger years, but I’d long since left that vagabond lifestyle behind. Hawk had pocketed my first night’s worth of tips, saying I owed him. Reno’s tab maxed me out for the night. We still had a week before payday, and I didn’t have a place to stay.
“Bye, Rosie. See you later tonight.”
“Drive safe,” she said, yawning and sleepily looking at her watch.
I headed out the main door and strolled across the dark parking lot. When I reached my car, I leaned against the door and wondered where to go. The girl I came to Texas with had joined a pack, but you didn’t just roll up to a Packmaster’s door and invite yourself in to crash with them for a little while. That was a big no-no as you could only stay by invitation. We hadn’t spoken in a month, and frankly, I didn’t know her all that well.
“If you stand out here much longer, you might grow roots.”
I glanced over my shoulder and turned around. A lovely woman with a long braid strolled in my direction. As she neared the lamppost, I could make out her warm complexion and earthy eyes. She looked Native American from her strong bone structure and elegant demeanor. The wind kicked up her long skirt and she reached down and gripped it with her fist.
“Are you having car trouble?”
“No. I’m just… tired from a long night at work. I waitress here.” I pointed at the building and she smiled.
A strand of hair blew free and tangled in front of her face. “I’m Ivy. A brother of mine locked his keys in his truck again, so I came by to drop off a spare set.”
“Maybe he should keep his spare set in his back pocket,” I suggested.
She laughed, and the apples of her cheeks glowed. “He would probably lose those too. I’m not one to be nosy, but I don’t like seeing someone in need. I’m not sure exactly what you’re in need of, but you have that look about you.”
Ivy seemed like an expressive soul, and I got good vibes from her right away. “I’ve temporarily split with my boyfriend until he can get his act together. I don’t think it hit me until I got off work that I don’t have a home to go to.”
“Then you’ll stay with me. What’s your name?”
“My name’s Izzy, but I can’t impose like that.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “And why not? You need a place to stay, and I live in a large house with plenty of rooms. We should help others so one day they can return the gesture to someone else. I’m not asking just to be nice, Izzy. I truly want to help so I can put my good intentions into the universe. Maybe one day some of that goodness will come back to me. Don’t deny me this because you think it’s imposing. Truly, it’s not.”
Wow. This girl could sell. She had a way with words that made you feel as if you were in the wrong and she was imparting her wisdom upon you. What could it hurt?
“Ivy, I’d love that. Just one day is all I need to get myself together. I promise I won’t be in your hair; my body is in dire need of rest, so I’ll probably sleep until midafternoon.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.” The pretzels on the bar counted a little bit, so not a total lie. Usually I ate breakfast at dawn and went right to sleep, but I didn’t want to be a bother.
She eyed me skeptically. “I’ll call my Packmaster and let him know about our arrangement. Follow me.”
I blinked. “You’re in a pack? Oh, in that case…”
“Don’t worry.” She lifted her hand and smiled. “He’s a compassionate man who will not turn away a woman in need. Shifters should stick together. Regardless of what your animal is, you’re welcome in our home. I’ll drive slowly,” she said, walking toward a hatchback.
I followed her taillights and switched on the radio, singing along to an oldie by U2. A fragile smile touched my face as the song reminded me of a time in my life when strangers had given me a meal or a ride to a new destination. It would have been a dangerous proposition for a single girl, but I’d had Jericho at my side to protect me.
I had been adrift for so long that coming back into the Shifter community felt like home. While I’d worked Breed bars in recent years, they were in small towns, and their clubs served other Breeds, including humans. The calling to be near my people had become stronger in the last year or two. I’m sure it had
to do with my ovaries putting pressure on me to mate. Those two bitches needed to mind their own business.
When Ivy turned up a private road, it led to a magnificent house with a large stretch of land around it.
“Wowzer,” I muttered, gaping at what looked like an old-fashioned mansion. It was lit by a pale moon, and I could make out white flowers around the property and upper balcony. One of the trees in front had an old-fashioned rope swing tethered to a lower branch, and several cars were parked on the left side of the house. Ivy waited for me by the steps of the wooden porch while I parked my car.
“Everyone’s asleep,” she whispered as I walked up the steps. “Sometimes they get up in the middle of the night and raid the kitchen, so if you’re hungry—”
“I’m fine,” I promised her. “I just need some shut-eye and I’ll stay out of everyone’s way. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
We approached the door, and she held out her key. I noticed a sign nailed to the siding that said Weston. Something about that name sounded familiar.
“You’re no trouble compared to some of these boys,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll take you up to your room. Do you have any bags?”
I shrugged. “Most of my stuff is still at the house. I did pack a few things, but I’ll grab them when I wake up. Is it okay if I take a shower before I leave for work?”
She nodded and opened the door. “Our house is yours, Izzy. Please, come in.”
The floor creaked when I stepped inside. She hung her keys on a nail over the letter T. “You can put your keys on my nail,” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t have a car, but they wanted to include me in the lineup.”
On the right was a row of keys hanging on the wall. I found the letter I and looped my keychain over the rusty nail that was above it.
Ivy kicked off her shoes in the corner, and I followed her lead, putting my flip-flops beside her flats to the right of the door. We entered an open living room with another adjacent room on the right. Straight ahead was a fireplace, and to the right of it, a hall that led to the back of the house.
