Promising Peter (Bad Boy Alphas) (Shrew & Company Book 6)

by Holley Trent

  Bryan stared down at Gene for a while, and then nudged his limp body with the toe of his boot. “He’s not even worth spitting on.”

  “I don’t know if I’d agree,” Peter said. Even with the man down for the count, Peter wanted to rip his limbs off and build a different fire for each. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same and worse before. Hiding evidence was one of Soren’s favorite tasks.

  “Who are you?” the lady asked in a strained whisper.

  “Best if you didn’t know,” Peter said. “We’re going to get out of your hair, and make sure Gene doesn’t bother you again.”

  “For good?” Her expression shifted into a contorted mask that one quick stop away from uncontrollable sobbing. Peter had certainly seen that face enough times in his line of work.

  Peter nodded. “For good. We’ll all see to it. Trust me. One way or another.”

  Her tears fell. “Thank you. You’re a blessing. All of you.”

  Not even Peter’s mother had ever told him that.

  He was starting to wonder if he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone. He could hardly recognize his life anymore. It didn’t seem real.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Andrea had sat inside the Bear bunker outside of Gene’s cell for far too long, staring at the unconscious waste of skin and energy. She’d worked up entire monologues to tell him when he woke—litanies of complaints to make against him the second he opened his eyes.

  But as soon as he did pick up his head and fix cold, black, soulless eyes on her, all she could do was choke back a sob and hurry away before he could see her tears fall.

  She walked past Dustin at the guard desk, ignoring his query about her welfare.

  She walked past Bryan and Tamara at the underground bunker’s entrance where they were on the phone coordinating schedules with Dana, who was back in Durham.

  She walked past Eric, who’d left the bunker to get some air.

  She even walked past Peter, who was perched on the bumper of his truck being very still, but she knew like the rest of the personnel milling around, he wasn’t being idle because there was nothing to do. He was resting because there was more to be done.

  Word had gotten around quickly that they’d grabbed Gene, and apparently that made people feel safe enough to wag their tongues and spill all. Where those people had been when the Bears and Shrews were actively trying to locate Gene, Drea didn’t know, but their hesitance didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that their lives were disordered because of Gene and they didn’t know how to quickly set things right again.

  Get in line and take a number. We’re all screwed, Drea mused as she walked toward nowhere in particular.

  She couldn’t leave. She’d ridden west with Astrid, and Astrid wasn’t going back to Durham just yet. She had some business concerns to take care of for the lodge. Since Dana had already left, and Tamara wasn’t leaving for a few days, either, Drea didn’t have a ride.

  Sighing, she stopped.

  Turned.

  Headed back toward the bunker.

  Maybe I’ll try again with Gene. Get all the anger out. She scoffed and batted at her short hair. Yeah, right.

  Peter straightened up from the truck bumper and put out an arm to stop her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  He let out a breath and gave her the tiniest pull closer to him. Her plodding feet were reluctant to let go of the ground they were seemingly tarred do, but all the same, she moved a few inches closer, facing him.

  She raised her gaze slowly, afraid of what she’d see in his eyes. She hadn’t even managed to work up a good and acerbic barb to hurl at Gene for all the shit he’d put her through for all those years, but Peter had been there to grab him. He’d known what to do and when to act. He had to have been ashamed of her.

  “I don’t believe you.” He trailed the pad of one calloused thumb along the bottom of her earlobe and then gave it a gentle tug.

  “Well, then, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell me you’re hungry.”

  She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “Are you?”

  She sighed. Nodded. “I might have missed breakfast.”

  “Let’s get something on the road, then. Tell Bryan you’re leaving.”

  She opened her eyes, but kept her gaze focused downward at his chest. If she didn’t have to look at his face, she wouldn’t feel so compelled to perform.

  You promised yourself you wouldn’t do that anymore.

  There was no need for her to be anyone she wasn’t, but old habits were so hard to break.

  “Where are we going?” she asked his chest.

  “Not holing you up in another of my apartments, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  She let out a short, quiet scoff. “I wouldn’t mind if you did. Having other people make the decisions most of the time makes me comfortable. Assuming they…have my best interests in heart, anyway.”

  She didn’t have to say the name. Peter had to have known the exact person who’d done such a bad job fulfilling her needs, or even at simply being mindful of them.

  “I think about little else but your best interests, Andrea.” He put his big hands on her shoulders, and squeezed a bit. Massaged a little. Pulled her closer when she dropped her guard. “In fact, I keep asking myself if your best interest would be me getting in my truck, going away, and not looking back.”

  She looked up then—a reflexive action, her body responding instinctively to an undesirable stimulus. “Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t say I’m going to. I said, I keep asking. I know I’m probably not what you expected to get for a mate.”

  “I could say the reverse is probably true as well.”

  He shrugged. “That may be so, but the truth is, I can’t bring myself to go away. I can’t leave, unless I take you with me. I just can’t, and I don’t want to. If that makes me selfish, so be it. I’m having a hard time giving a damn.”

  “I’m flattered that you feel that way,” she said timidly, “but I can’t help but to think you’ll change your mind soon and decide I’m not enough.”

  “Why?”

  She closed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose. “To be an alpha Bear, you don’t know very much about them, do you?”

  He didn’t say anything, but she sensed his movement.

  She opened her eyes to see him gesturing to Bryan.

  Bryan bobbed his head in acknowledgement and waved to Drea.

  Peter crooked his thumb toward his vehicle. “Get in. I’ll take you home.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?”

  “Even if I did, if you wanted to go home, I’d take you home. Priorities shift, and I can’t think of a better reason to change mine.”

  “Long drive.”

  “Not really. Four-and-a-half hours. You’ll probably sleep through most of the trip. Bryan said you always sleep when vehicles are moving.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes at her brother. “I can’t help it.”

  “Neither can my mother,” Peter said with a smile. “She falls asleep the moment the ignition is turned.”

  Well, at least he’s not annoyed by it.

  If her tendency to slumber in cars didn’t irritate him, she could think of numerous other bad habits of hers for him to get turned off by.

  “Come on. If we leave now, you’ll be settled at home before primetime,” he said.

  “What’s happening at primetime?”

  “For once, nothing but television, I hope.” He canted his head toward the SUV once more. “Get in.”

  “I—”

  Whatever objection she was going to make quickly fell off her tongue at the sight of his quelling squint.

  She closed her mouth, walked to the passenger side, got in, and then pulled her seatbelt across her body.

  He did the same, and turned off the radio that had apparently been tuned to local police chatter.
>
  Again, she was reminded of how different their lives were and worried they’d never find any common ground to come together. She was his mate, sure, but they could have children without having an actual relationship. That happened in shifter groups all the time. The commingling of genetics was more important than whether or not a child’s parents lived under the same roof. Drea wanted more than that, though. She wanted what Bryan and Tamara had. They were partners in all aspects of their lives, and so affectionate in spite of whom might have been looking.

  “All right with a drive-through?” Peter asked as he turned the vehicle around. “We should eat now so we’re not too off-schedule for dinner.”

  “I bet you’re like Bryan. Always hungry.”

  Peter grunted. “Aggressive metabolism. If I didn’t get four or five meals per day, I’d probably lose twenty pounds in a month.”

  She shuddered. “And there are two of you Ursu men. You and Soren probably never let a day go by without emptying a refrigerator.”

  He grinned and got the SUV onto the road. “Sometimes I think that’s why my mother and father stopped at just the three children. They didn’t want to risk number four being another boy.”

  “They like each other.” She rolled her eyes inwardly at the stupid remark. She was still trying to get used to be able to keep up with the beats of a conversation, and wasn’t good yet at engaging her verbal filter.

  “My parents?” he asked.

  “Yes. At Bryan and Tamara’s wedding, I watched your parents because they were funny.”

  Peter cringed.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Perhaps they are to outsiders, but they certainly kept an iron grip on Soren and me when we were growing up.”

  “Maybe they knew you needed it.”

  “Did you just insult me?”

  Drea’s pulse crashed in her ears and gut seemed to plummet to her feet. Heat rushed up her neck to her face so fast that her head swam. “I—”

  He laughed. “No need to be cruel, Andrea. I know I’m a hopeless case.”

  She scooted lower in her seat as if making herself smaller would mitigate the effect of her words. Then she closed her eyes and groaned at herself. Always so afraid to say things. You couldn’t even say anything to Gene.

  Maybe one day, she’d be a more confident speaker, but she didn’t think that change was going to come soon.

  She must have nodded off, because the next thing she knew, Peter was nudging a fast food bag toward her and cramming a drink into the cup holder.

  She sat up quickly and clutched the big order on her lap. As the bleariness in her eyes cleared, the scent of hot fried chicken hit her nose. Maybe she didn’t have the best nose for a Bear, but that smell would have made anyone’s mouth water.

  He pulled away, stuffing his wallet into the console, and she stared down into the bag.

  “Hand me something,” he said.

  “Anything in particular?”

  “As long as it’s battered or fried, I don’t care.”

  She rooted out a drumstick out with a napkin and handed it to him. Then she looked in the box in search of a breast. She’d always hated dark meat. Fortunately, Bryan hadn’t been picky when they were growing up. He’d always finished what was left on her plate. He was the reason, in fact, that she was out in the world and not still sitting at her parents’ kitchen table struggling to finish a meal. That had always been the Ridge rule—“you may leave the table when you’re done.”

  Her portions had gotten smaller and smaller after puberty, and she still hadn’t been able to finish them. Her mother might have suspected that something was wrong with Drea, but couldn’t discern what, much less what to do about it. Bears weren’t generally susceptible to eating disorders.

  “How do you feel about not living in the area anymore?” Peter asked through a mouthful of chicken.

  “I guess I haven’t given the move too much thought. I like my job and my apartment, and there’s so much to do around the Triangle. I mean, not that I get out much. Getting out is hard. Someone always insists on escorting me, and everyone is always so busy. I’m looking forward to exploring. And getting out to the coast more, too.” She popped a potato wedge into her mouth and had a little salt orgasm. Her blood pressure shot up out of its lowdown baseline at the first chew.

  “So, you’re not particularly eager to move back?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think so. The mountains are the Ridge Bears’ ancestral home, but I guess I’m ready for a fresh start. So many negative memories are attached to western North Carolina right now, and I’d like to pile some better memories on top of those before I even consider a move back.”

  “I think that’s very reasonable.”

  “Not cowardly?”

  He furrowed his brow. “No. Not at all. Why would you think it is?”

  “Because what I’m doing is running.”

  “Sounds more like self-care to me.”

  She chewed on that for a while along with her chicken.

  “Sometimes, bravery is overrated, Andrea.”

  “Says the alpha Bear.”

  “My mother likes to remind both her sons that we got all the alpha shit and no common sense, so read into that what you will.”

  “You make it sound like you’d change that if you could.”

  “I don’t know about changing what I am, but…” He shrugged.

  She held open an empty bag for him to toss his chicken bone into.

  “I don’t know. I do wish for a little balance sometimes. I wish I could be more confident about some things and less certain about others. I get trapped in habits and they’re hard to break.”

  “What kind of habits?”

  “Like never being still. Never keeping an address for longer than a few weeks. Not having anything be stable, and I think for the longest time, that’s the way I wanted things. If you don’t commit, no one can fault you for failing.”

  She bit off a piece of another potato wedge. “I’ve failed at lots of things I wanted to achieve.”

  “Everyone fails at things. Some of those things matter, and some don’t. But the more important consideration is whether you cared enough to try in the first place. For a long time, there were things I wouldn’t even try to do because I knew I’d crash and burn.”

  “Like what?”

  “Getting a real job.”

  “You have a real job.”

  “You know what I mean. I’m talking about a job where I’m on someone’s payroll and there are clear performance expectations, and… Fuck, I don’t know. A retirement plan or something. And having a job like that means having a permanent address and belonging to a community somewhere. It’d mean uprooting myself would be letting a bunch of folks down. I’d have responsibilities to the people in the community, and them to me.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.” She handed him another piece of chicken.

  “I agree that it’s not, but I used to think so. Being a ghost who moved from place to place without forming attachments was easy, but life’s not supposed to be easy, is it?”

  Drea let out a breath and then pulled in a long draw of soda. “Sure hasn’t been for me.”

  “But things are getting better.”

  “Sure, in some ways. I mean, I’m not paralyzed with fear and uncertainty anymore. Now I just have the usual sorts of confidence issues. I’m having to figure out who I am again and get to know myself. I don’t feel like the same person I was before the bear inside me left, and I keep expecting myself to respond to situations in certain ways. When the drive doesn’t start up, I’m slow to figure out an alternative action.”

  “That’s not a bad problem to have. To me, though, you’re still the same Andrea.”

  “I seem the same to you?”

  He shrugged again. Grunted. “Do you hit my senses the same way? No. Your scent is more or less the same because you were born a Bear, but you take up a little less space energy-wise now.”

  “I thi
nk the psychic stuff is gone.”

  He cut her a sideways look before fixing his gaze on the road again. “Do you care?”

  “I—” She clamped her lips shut on the answer. Reflexively, she was going to say no, but the truth was that she hadn’t given the changes in her abilities any thought. She’d been too busy thinking about drug company schemes and petty tyrants and Shrew schedules.

  “I…I don’t really know. Do you care? I can’t believe that you wouldn’t.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because you’re an alpha Bear. You’re supposed to have a mate who has all the bells and whistles. I can’t do anything for you that you can’t do for yourself.”

  “Stop trying to compare yourself to Tamara or any other Bear who has an unusual skill set. I’m certain Tamara wishes she were more like you in some ways.”

  “Don’t blow smoke up my rear end, Peter.”

  “I mean it. The way I see things, I’m coming out ahead in this match. I get a Ridge, and a lady who happens to be smarter than the average Bear.”

  Groaning, she covered her face with her hands, and then let the laugh out. “Oh, yeah. Yogi Bear’s got nothing on me. That’s what a girl likes to hear.”

  “Maybe the phrasing wasn’t all that romantic, but the words are still true.”

  “I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”

  Her eyelids were heavy again, and the rocking of the SUV made sleep tug at her brain, her eyelids.

  She wedged the bag beside her on the seat and put her head against the window.

  For her to not be panicking that she’d say some wrong thing or that she needed to continuously be making conversation lest he get bored was weird.

  She didn’t feel panicky with him. She felt comfortable enough to just be, and she was surprised at how thrilling that simple pleasure was.

  There were some obvious perks to having a fated mate.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “You need more things,” Peter stated as he stepped into Andrea’s sparsely furnished living room, and realized immediately how rude he’d sounded. “Sorry. No offense.”