Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

by Dannika Dark

  He rubbed his jaw and gave it consideration. “No, you’re still too pissed off. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “My black eye?”

  His expression darkened with annoyance. “We’ll talk in the morning, Izzy. It’s late.”

  I stretched my right shoulder and lifted my head to look at him. “Hawk, can you cover me up?”

  He flipped the thin blanket over my legs and switched out the light. To my relief, he left the room and closed the door behind him. I released a breath, thankful my situation wasn’t going to get more desperate than it already was. Any feelings I once had for him were now dead, so nothing he initiated sexually would be consensual. That left me with the primal fear of being violated by a man who felt like he owned me and had rights to my body like I was property. Men who treated women as livestock and abused them received no mercy when caught. Shifters had zero tolerance for abuse against women, and I’d heard stories about what had happened to some of them who were turned over to the packs. I hoped that Hawk wasn’t that kind of man, but as the cord pinched my skin, I had my doubts.

  ***

  After Isabelle dashed out of Howlers, Jericho had been left with adrenaline pumping in his veins. He wanted to finish off Hawk and give him a nasty dose of his own medicine, but Hawk predictably ran out after her. Jericho knew about men like him. They liked to push women around to feel superior in their inferior lives.

  Afterward, he got in his truck and drove aimlessly. The sun winked at him from the treetops in the distance as he coasted down a busy street. Dawn swallowed up the dark night and replaced the stars with splashes of apricot, yellow, and a pale azure.

  Jericho swung by a diner and ordered a plate of Belgian waffles. He mostly stared out the window, smoking his cigarette, wondering why he couldn’t just walk away from Isabelle. Why did she have to pick a loser like Hawk to settle down with? Just imagining that guy pushing her around made his wolf thirst for blood. She might have been tall and sassy, but Isabelle wouldn’t be able to fight off someone his size. No pack would allow one of their women to be treated with such disrespect. He knew how rough she’d had it growing up, and that’s why he’d promised years ago to look out for her.

  Maybe that’s what made it harder for him to turn a blind eye.

  After finishing his coffee, Jericho headed home. He wished he had been the one to run out after her, but now the two of them were probably curled up in bed together, so he put it out of his mind.

  When he pulled up the driveway, Lexi stalked toward his truck with her hands on her hips. She had on a pair of cutoff jeans and a brown T-shirt with a logo on the front promoting barbecue.

  “Austin’s going to kill you,” she announced, tucking her straight brown hair behind her ears. “You were supposed to be home with the truck two hours ago. He needed it to haul dirt for Mom’s garden so she could do some work before it got too hot.”

  Jericho rolled up the window and popped open the door. She continued to lecture him as he pulled his guitar out from behind the seat. A sick feeling gnawed at his stomach that he couldn’t shake, as if he were in the middle of a waking nightmare. It’s something that had begun not long after Isabelle ran out of Howlers, and it had progressively gotten worse.

  He ignored Lexi and headed toward the house. All the roses were in bloom—huge bushes filled with exquisite red blossoms. Lexi’s mom, Lynn, crouched in front of one, pruning a thorny branch with her shears. Austin had built her a little wooden stool for gardening, and Maizy had painted it bright yellow.

  Jericho swatted at a mosquito on his neck and realized he had left his jacket at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come home from a show shirtless. The waitress at the diner hadn’t raised any complaints; she’d refilled his coffee cup at least six times.

  He tromped up the porch steps and went inside, hanging his keys on the nail above the letter J. He didn’t bother taking off his shoes but created a calamity of noise as he stormed up the stairs.

  “What’s up with you?” Austin asked, pulling a white tank top over his head as he walked down the hall.

  Jericho ignored him and went straight for the game room. He took a seat at the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. After he knocked it back and grimaced, he poured another.

  “You wanna tell me what’s bothering you that you’re drinking this early in the morning?” Austin put his left forearm on the doorjamb and leaned against it.

  “Ghosts,” Jericho murmured.

  “Is one of them named Izzy?”

  He polished off the rest of his glass, and when he pushed it away, it tipped over and rolled around. “Have you ever met a girl who was so wrong for you she was right?”

  Austin laughed richly and entered the room, swaggering up to a barstool and easing onto it. “I’m living with one. I’ve always thought Lexi was too damn good for me. I wanted her for a long time; I just never thought I deserved a woman like her.”

  “Yeah,” Jericho agreed. “That about sums it up.”

  “Denver told me what happened back in California. Are you sure you aren’t putting a girl on a pedestal who doesn’t belong there?”

  “She’s different.”

  How could he explain it? Isabelle still retained that purity that had drawn him to her all those years ago. He resented the fact that she’d stolen from him, but he could hardly blame her for leaving his ass. Jericho had done plenty of unforgivable shit back then. He’d once gotten so fucked up on coke that he had left her alone at the beach with a group of strangers they’d just met. He simply forgot her, thanks to the drugs. She’d worshipped him, as if he could do no wrong, and he’d never taken a moment to appreciate what they had together. He’d abused her trust and friendship, and in the end, he’d gotten exactly what he deserved.

  He couldn’t help but look back with remorse. There were ugly parts of their friendship he’d just as soon forget. Sure, it was nice to remember the night she slept against him, snuggled close to keep warm. But the reason they slept in the alley that night was because Jericho had blown all his money partying. Isabelle knew why, but she always stayed by his side, and a man rarely found that kind of unrelenting devotion.

  In the beginning, Jericho had drifted through different towns, struggling to find his place in the world. It’s something many wolves did before joining a pack. Then he met Isabelle and discovered they shared a common spirit. He showed her how to live, and she showed him how much potential he had. It wasn’t until after he formed his band that the lifestyle had swallowed him up.

  “Where are you, Jericho?” Austin snapped him back into the present.

  “Do you believe in second chances?”

  Austin rubbed the cleft in his chin and stared into the mirror behind the liquor bottles. “I’d be a fool to say I didn’t. The thing about second chances is there’s more to prove the second time around, and more to lose. You fuck it up, and it can never be fixed.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about her, even when she’s not around.” Jericho began combing his fingers through stringy hair in need of a wash. “On top of that, she’s playing house with a complete asshole,” he added.

  “So you think she’ll be better off with a partial asshole?” Austin chuckled and leaned on his left arm to face him. “Come on, Jericho. You’re not a wolf who’s ready to settle. Why are you so hung up on this woman?”

  Jericho tapped a pack of cigarettes against the palm of his hand and pulled out a slender stick, admiring the neatly trimmed paper. “Because we never really ended it. I never got the final word. We never had the fight where she would have told me what a failure I was at being her friend. I just woke up and she wasn’t there anymore.”

  He lit the end of his cigarette and blew a donut ring in the air. It floated toward the ceiling, and damn if that didn’t remind him of her too.

  “It sounds like she’s got something else going on in her life now, brother. If you care about her, you’ll leave her alone. If you don’t give a damn about her, you’ll mess
with her head and ruin her life. I don’t know who Izzy is, but if she’s poison, then I don’t want my brother mixed up in that. You’re not adrift anymore. You’re part of a pack, and I have a responsibility as Packmaster to look out for my family.” Austin rapped his knuckles on the bar and looked around. “Just keep in mind that those years you two spent together were the years you were lost to us. Lost to everyone. If she had anything to do with that—”

  “She didn’t. That was all me. Fame tasted pretty damn good back then.” Jericho set his smoke on the ashtray and ran his finger across his bottom lip, pinching it out a little. “How’s Lexi getting on with the business?” he asked, changing topics.

  Austin smirked and turned around so his elbows were on the bar. “That woman is something else. She’s still scoping out buildings on the Breed side of town, and I think we’ve got a contender for the next Sweet Treats location.”

  “Is she still doing the pastry thing?”

  Austin nodded. “She’s got the cookies and cakes down pat, but she’s trying her hand at donuts and breakfast foods. I told her she’s getting in over her head—maybe she should just keep the shop open in the afternoon and see how business goes. Hell no. Lexi wants her store open morning and night. Her goal is twenty-four hours, but I’m not having that. We’re not a fucking 7-Eleven.”

  Jericho snorted. “That would cut short your time in the sack.”

  “Nooo doubt,” Austin agreed. “If she can hire staff to accommodate the hours, then I’ll agree to it. But money will be tight in the beginning, so I don’t see that happening.”

  “You sure it’s a good idea? The old shop is running just fine.”

  Austin slid off the stool and stretched back. “I give my woman whatever she wants, including her dreams. We need to move the business to the Breed district so we can get out of all that mess with taxes. I liked the last place we looked at; Wheeler’s negotiating a price to see if we can get him to come down.”

  “So you’ll need staff?”

  Austin patted Jericho’s arm. “Yeah. You feel like dropping the microphone and serving cookies?”

  “That would be a negative. I might have someone in mind if she needs help.”

  Jericho wondered if Isabelle would like that kind of job. She wouldn’t have to put up with drunken men, and the girl loved her donuts.

  “What if you sang in the store now and again? It’s going to be a pastry shop that also serves coffee. Lexi wants a place where people like to hang out, and a singer would really draw in customers. We could set it up so you’d have a little area in the corner to play your acoustic. No mic, just a stool. Real casual.” Austin tucked his hands in his pockets. “You won’t have women throwing lingerie at you, but you might like the change of pace. It’ll put a little extra money in your pocket if you also put out a tip jar. I think it’s safe to say the ladies will pay well to hear you sing.”

  Jericho swiveled around and stretched out his left leg, staring at the pool table. “I might do it for some free donuts.”

  Austin strolled toward the door. “I think that can be arranged.”

  “Unlimited supply,” Jericho added.

  “Don’t push it.”

  A knock sounded at the door downstairs.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Jericho hopped off the stool and followed Austin.

  “Lexi’s going to a movie with Naya. She doesn’t like coming over here because—”

  “She’s a diva?”

  “I don’t think she gets along with Wheeler, so she stays away to avoid the drama. Don’t mention anything about it,” Austin murmured as they hurried down the stairs.

  “Naya, come in!” Lexi said excitedly.

  “Is that what you’re wearing, chickypoo?”

  They made it to the bottom just in time to see Lexi staring down at her cutoff shorts. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  Compared to what Naya was wearing? A whole damn lot. That woman was sexilicious, even by Jericho’s standards, and he wasn’t into brunettes. Naya had on a white slim-fitted jumpsuit. The shorts were short, and the top was a sleeveless V-neck that buttoned up. You could see her black bra beneath the light fabric, and Jericho wondered what the view was from the back. His eyes traveled down her suntanned legs to the silver anklet above her right foot. Naya had luscious brown curls and burgundy lips that were full and seductive. She couldn’t be more different than Lexi, but they used to be neighbors and had forged a strong friendship. Jericho wondered why he’d never been lucky enough to live next door to an exotic dancer.

  “Why don’t you change into something a little feminine?” Naya suggested, tapping her hoop earring. “You look like you’re going to a baseball game. All you need is a footlong and a baseball cap.”

  Lexi curled her fingers around Austin’s arm. “Well, I might have to go upstairs for the baseball cap, but I have the footlong right here.”

  Jericho burst out laughing and coughed in his hand to cover it up. Austin popped her playfully on the rear, and she jumped forward and squeaked.

  “Now that’s what I like to see,” Naya purred. “Nothing sexier than a—”

  “Footlong?” Jericho finished.

  Naya cut him a steely glare. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

  “We met once, but you were on your knees,” he said with a chuckle.

  Last year, Austin’s wolf had killed Lexi’s ex-boyfriend to save her life. Afterward, Jericho had swung by the apartment and found Naya on her hands and knees, cleaning blood and roses off the floor. She’d also called someone to dispose of the body.

  “The name’s Jericho.”

  Her eyes sparkled, and she brushed her hair away from her shoulder. “I know you. I’ve seen you gyrate those hips onstage before; you could give me a run for my money.”

  Jericho took a seat on the stairs and twisted one of his rings around his finger.

  “Do you think I look okay?” Lexi whispered to Austin.

  He slipped his hands around her ass and crushed his lips against hers. “Good enough that I might call off your movie,” he murmured against her mouth, nibbling on her bottom lip.

  Jericho saw a little tongue action and looked away.

  “No, no!” Naya folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “This is a planned event, and I won’t let my girl be distracted by—”

  “A footlong?” Jericho suggested.

  Naya picked at her fingernail. “You’re getting less funny.”

  “That’s okay, honey. You’re getting less sexy.”

  She feigned indifference and sighed. “Lexi, are we ready?”

  “Yeah. Just about. My purse is upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

  As she jogged past Jericho, Lexi did her hip shake thing, and Austin’s pupils dilated. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and growled, “Be right back.” Austin hiked up the stairs like a man on a mission, two steps at a time.

  “I swear, if he makes us late again…” Naya sang to herself as she strolled toward one of the windows on the right. She held the lacy curtain between her fingers. “This is pretty.”

  “Lynn decorated the house.”

  Lexi’s mom suffered frequent episodes of what Jericho liked to call storegasms. She had multiples too. Every time she walked into the home section of a store, she would load up her cart. When they bought the house last year, it came unfurnished, so there were a lot of rooms to fill. Lynn was the only one around there who had a professional touch.

  The front door swung open, and Wheeler ambled in, kicking off his shoes and slamming the door behind him. He was shirtless and red in the face. The tattoos on his arms were a collage of images he wore like sleeves. Wheeler didn’t believe in putting animals on his body; he’d once said it was bad luck for a Shifter to do that unless the image was of his own animal, so the only one he had was a wolf. His chest was free of tats, but he had one on his back.

  Wheeler wiped his sweaty face and unbuckled his belt, throwing the leather strap on top of the
pile of shoes.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Jericho asked.

  “Lynn wanted that space on the right side of the yard dug up for a garden. I got a real problem with the fact everyone took off and left me to hoe up that dirt by myself and lay down topsoil.” A drop of sweat fell from his head onto the floor, and he slicked back his brown hair. “Manual labor is not my thing.”

  “I had my doubts you were capable of doing anything laborious with your hands,” Naya said. She was leaning against the wall on her right shoulder, studying her nails. Jericho could feel the tension snapping between them like live wires.

  Wheeler hadn’t realized she was in the room, and he swiftly headed toward the staircase.

  “And I thought I was the only pussy in the room,” Naya murmured, shifting her gaze out the window.

  Wheeler had one foot on the first step and froze. “Say that again?”

  “Which part? Pussy? By your reaction, you must not hear that word too often.”

  Wow. Jericho felt like he had just walked into the Twilight Zone. The animosity between these two was out of control. He stood up and tried to block Wheeler’s view.

  “Go upstairs and shower, man. No need to stir up any trouble with one of Lexi’s friends. Dig?”

  Wheeler’s jaw clenched, and his amber eyes looked like hard candy as they narrowed at Naya’s indifferent expression. She had turned to face him and tucked her hands in the little pockets of her shorts.

  Wheeler watched her as she brushed one leg against the other, her skin making a soft hiss where it rubbed together.

  Naya smiled knowingly. “That was the only one you’ll ever have,” she said in a way that implied there was an inside story behind the remark. She strolled toward the front door and ran her slender fingers over the right side of her ass as she turned around. “Tell Lexi I’ll be waiting in the car.” She ended the last part with a little purr and slinked out the door.

  Jericho faced his brother. “What’s the deal with you two?”

  Wheeler blinked and turned around, tromping his way up the stairs. Lexi passed by him on her way down, and her eyes widened when she caught sight of his expression.