by J. Kearston
“No jail, so yeah, if you kill someone to cover it up, no one in our community is going to bat an eye,” I confirm. “The problem stems from how far technology has come. If human police find any evidence you leave behind like blood or hair, manage to identify you, they’ll show up at your house and arrest you. Same sort of risks you’re familiar with, I’d imagine, only with more excitement.”
She finishes up, drying her hands. My eyes rove over her languidly, the sight of her in my black t-shirt sending a possessive thrill through me. It hangs low enough to cover the pair of fitted, navy boxers that she borrowed so she could throw her only pair of shorts in the wash. Dark brown hair hanging in a loose curtain past her shoulders, she looks right at home, and honestly, it’s taking everything not to kiss her senseless right now.
“So maybe it’s better if I stay off grid.” She looks at Bane nervously to see how he’s going to react. “I’m a bit reluctant to voluntarily back myself into a corner that leaves me wholly dependent on you guys, but I also-“ she fidgets from foot to foot until he cracks, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of her, caging her in. Rather than freak out, his proximity helps her unease and she stops squirming, taking a steadying breath. “I also like the idea of everyone thinking that I’m dead. It means that no one will be looking for me. Yeah, it poses some problems unless I get a fake identity, but starting over fresh actually sounds a lot less daunting than going back.”
Gently, Bane traces a finger along her jaw. “You have my word that if you want to leave, I’ll do everything in my power to convince you otherwise. I’m not going to throw you to the wolves if you’re determined to leave, though, and will absolutely ensure you have everything you need to get situated.”
She looks up at him, scanning his face as she searches for a lie. But as it becomes abundantly clear that he’s telling the truth, she visibly relaxes, tension fading from her shoulders.
That is, until he adds, “And when you finally realize that leaving was a stupid idea, we’ll be right outside, stalking you from the bushes and ready to drag your ass back home where you belong.”
A surprised laugh bursts from her lips. “At least you’re honest.”
Bane smiles down at her, absolutely smitten. “You haven’t gotten a chance to explore the house yet. Want us to give you a tour and then we can pick out a movie?”
“Sure.” We start walking out of the kitchen as she says, “I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s weirdly relieving to find out you guys would prefer avoiding small talk with people, too. I know I’ll need to meet everyone eventually, but seeing as I’m sure the moment we left, Parker ran around telling everybody that I haven’t shifted yet, I’m happy to put that off for a few more days.”
Mason gets up to follow us, bringing up the rear. I turn to look over my shoulder, catching him as he stares at Bane’s hand on the small of her back as they round the corner into the hallway. Stopping him before he can pass me, I jerk my head towards the door, needing a minute with him where she can’t overhear.
Bane can easily take point showing her around. Three bedrooms upstairs, a bathroom on each level, and downstairs is what should’ve been the master bedroom that we converted into a massive multimedia room. With as boring as it is out here in the middle of nowhere, it’s either hangout with the people that invited themselves into our neighborhood, in the woods, or at home. You bet your ass we invested a pretty penny stocking this place with stuff to do.
Heading to the edge of the yard near the tree line to be safely out of earshot, I pivot, whacking Mason on the shoulder.
“The fuck, man?” he complains, smacking me back.
“Clearly you needed somebody to snap you out of it. You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” he demands, but by the narrowing of his eyes, he has a hunch.
“You know damn well, what. Being self-destructive.” Slapping a hand over his mouth as he starts to protest, I cut straight to the point. “If you’ve actually been paying attention to what’s going on instead of what you’re worried about seeing, you’ll notice the way she leans into damn near every touch.”
He growls defensively. “We don’t know how abusive her asshole boyfriend was to her, Stry. I don’t want her to feel like she left one controlling relationship for another, to be too forward with her and act like we have any right to touch her. She barely even knows us, and yeah, she might seem okay now, but what about next week when that really hits her? When everything she grew up hearing about relationships slams down on her and she regrets it, pulls away because she doesn’t think that she should be acting like that with us already?”
I look at the man that may as well be my brother with pity. “And what about if she doesn’t? If she thinks that you don’t have an interest and starts wondering what she did wrong to make you avoid her when we’ve made it clear how the bond pulls us towards her to the point of obsession?”
It works. His eyes darken, and though I feel like a bit of an ass for not pulling punches, I’d rather do it now when there’s still a chance to avoid so many problems and misunderstandings. “You’ve seen how she internalizes and blames herself for shit she shouldn’t. It’s obvious that douchebag was some sort of emotionally abusive, narcissistic fuckwad, but I don’t pick up the vibes that he was beating her. She looks starved for affection, Mason. Stop torturing yourself and actually look.”
“I haven’t stopped looking!” he hisses vehemently, careful not to shout. “I can barely sleep, can’t think of anything other than her. If I fuck up and drive her away from us, then what the hell am I supposed to do? I will lose my ever-loving mind, Stryker. What if-“ he drops his voice to barely more than a whisper “-what if she never shifts? If Bane and I biting her did more harm than good? What if we not only changed her life irrevocably, but we ruined her second chance at it?”
He swallows, a myriad of emotions barely contained within his eyes. “What if she can’t shift? If she thinks there’s no risk of exposure, no reason for her to have to stay, she could move back to the city where we might not get to her in time before something happens.”
Troubled, blue eyes stay rapt on my face, needing me to fix every problem that hasn’t even happened yet. I get it better than I think he realizes, the lack of answers torturing me as much as the constant need to be around the woman. So I do the only thing that I’m able to.
I bitch slap him.
“Motherfucker!” he hisses, glaring at me, but it works. Anger replaces the anxiety for a heartbeat, all of the ‘what if’s’ momentarily forgotten in favor of the immediate problem.
“It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, dumbass. You acting on that paranoia will absolutely bring it to fruition. None of us know what tomorrow is going to bring, so don’t sacrifice the time you actually have with her now because you’re scared.”
Lifting a finger, I correct, “I’m not saying go stick your tongue down her throat and freak her out by coming on too strong. I’m saying she isn’t objecting the casual touches and sense of security that the bond offers her while she’s just as riddled with nerves as you are; out of her element and frustrated, trying to figure things out. So help her. Let her see that you’re someone she can rely on so she won’t want to leave.”
The seconds turn into minutes as he absorbs my words, and I wait patiently without a word, giving him time to analyze things like he needs to. While I absolutely love Bane and owe him everything, he doesn’t get this as much as I do, though he tries. Mason came to us more broken than I was when I showed up on his doorstep, and while Bane devotes himself to helping put us back together, he doesn’t understand that sometimes we need to fall apart.
We’re fractured, and sometimes the pieces we think we put back right, turn out not to fit well anymore. We need to break them back off, allow the wounds to bleed for a while, and then let Bane try taping them somewhere new.
“Okay,” he says on a quiet breath. I watch as the switch flips in his head, bringing him back to what const
itutes as his normal. “Last thing any of us wants is to get stuck on dish duty again, so if you’re wrong about this and she leaves, by default it means you have to do all of the chores for the rest of forever as penance.”
Flipping him off, I start walking back to the house. “I’ll take that deal, because I’m never going to have to honor it. You just wait; by this time next year, I’ll have a ring on that woman’s finger.”
He falls into step beside me, the obscene summer heat making us both irritated already and ready to get back inside to the air conditioning. “You sound like a human. Do you have any idea how expensive that’ll run, replacing it every time she loses it during a shift?”
“Necklace then, depending on what she changes into,” I contemplate as we cross the lawn, knowing we only have a few more feet before we’ll have to cut off the conversation. “Think about it; visual proof that she’s ours. Even if someone can’t sense it, they could see that she’s taken.” He doesn’t get the chance to respond, too close to the house to risk it, but the possessive glint in his eye has me smirking.
Call me a bastard for manipulating him, but the only way to save Mason is to get him out of his own way, and it’s a delicate dance to pull off. He’ll never be able to see the clear path as anything other than a trap, won’t take the hand that tries to guide him to safety. You need to set the forest on fire behind him so that he’s forced onto the path you want him to take, thinking it’s the lesser of two evils. He’ll get there eventually, but he won’t drop his guard, so it’s slow going.
Trusting the wrong person got his family murdered, after all, and left him waking up in their blood alone to take the blame with no idea what he was.
Bane and Risa are already in the media room, and I pick up my pace so that I can steal the free spot next to her. The oversized, black leather couch is so plush that I sink a few inches, and she’s forced into my side as the material dips.
Shelves line three of the walls, the largest behind us stocked with books like a small library. To either side are rows of movies, video games, or board games, and straight ahead is the massive television. An entertainment center beneath it holds all of the consoles and controllers, one of which is already in Bane’s hand as he gets the movie set up. A coffee table sits in the center, and two matching, black recliners flank the couch. It still manages not to feel overcrowded, to the point that it was obvious it shouldn’t be wasted as a bedroom for a single person.
One movie turns into two, with a snack break in between. The hope is that if we spend the day getting her to relax as much as possible, we’ll have a better shot of tonight going well. It doesn’t keep me from getting lost in my head, though, attempting to figure out what could have caused her to run away from home rather than wait it out six more months when she was that close to eighteen. But if she shut down that conversation when she was actively open to answering questions, I’m not about to bring it up again now when we’re trying to get her to drop her defenses.
Still, I can guarantee that Bane chose to ask what city she’s from last night for one specific reason. With Mason and I being the messes we are, Bane appointed himself the unofficial protector of his broken toys. And since he hates damn near anyone except the two of us, it’s a fairly manageable job. Now that Risa’s been pulled into our ranks, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that he started digging into her past as soon as he woke up before me this morning. We may not know her last name, but her first isn’t that common. Between that, the city, her age and occupation, and the ex-hole’s name? More than enough to get him started.
She ends up dozing off halfway through the third movie, and I lean into the back of the couch so it dips, causing her head to gradually slide my way instead of Bane’s. When her cheek presses into my arm, I stick my tongue out at an unamused Bane. When she starts snoring softly, I turn all of my attention her way, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.
Keeping my voice barely more than a whisper, I admit to the room, "Yep, I'm a fucking goner. It's official, Mason, I rescind my previous arguments; fated mates have to be a real thing." I gently run my fingers along her jaw and down the side of her neck. "Fuck, guys, I'm going insane here. I don’t even really know her, but can’t figure out how I ever lived without her."
Mason sounds pained. "Same. I thought getting trashed last night would help me sleep, but it just made it harder to convince myself that crawling in to sleep next to her wasn't a perfectly reasonable idea.”
“Maybe you should,” Bane suggests, and we both turn to look at him in confusion. Heck, even I know that’s likely too fast for her, and I’m already picking out her engagement jewelry.
Rising to his feet, Bane jerks his head towards the open spot. “Perfect chance for a nap, and innocent enough out here. You’re exhausted, and have been fighting the bond’s pull tooth and nail. It’s tearing you apart, Mas, and none of us make the best decisions when we’re tired.” He takes a seat in the free recliner, focusing on the movie and clearly not open to debating the topic.
Hesitantly, Mason crosses over to the couch. Sinking into the open seat, he keeps distance between us, so I sacrifice my well planned position, slowly tilting us without waking her. Cupping her head, I gently ease her onto Mason’s shoulder instead, letting him be her pillow. So that I can still soak up her proximity, I slide down so that I’m resting my head in her lap, tossing my legs over the arm of the couch and closing my eyes.
And for just a little while, I imagine what it would have been like if she’d loved us without the bond forcing her hand.
Chapter 9
Risa
Moonlight streams through small gaps in the canopy above us, shadows dancing across the trees. The temperature has dropped enough to be comfortable, the cool breeze sending a shiver down my spine as much as my nerves. Mason, Stryker, and Bane’s eyes seem to practically glow in the darkness, and all of that predatory attention is fully focused on me, driving my thoughts in the wrong direction for what we’re here to do.
Even with my eyes shut, I can feel their gaze, making my skin crawl, so I give up with a huff. “Kind of hard to let my guard down with you guys looking at me like that.”
Stryker cants his head to the side. “Like what, lovely?”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “With hope. Like you’re waiting to see if I’m going to pass a test that I didn’t even sign up to take. It’ll pretty much guarantee that I’ll fail, so you’re setting yourself up for disappointment, here. You already said you weren’t expecting it to happen tonight, so play on your phones or something and stop staring at me. You’re barely even blinking; it’s creepy.”
Mason snorts, but humors me and pulls his phone out of his pocket, the bright light illuminating his face as he pretends that he isn’t watching me from his peripherals. Bane’s lip simply twitches as he continues to stare from where he’s leaning against a tree, though he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, turning down the intensity a notch.
Stryker crosses the distance between us, circling around behind me. “Can you blame us?” He leans in close, breath tickling my ear. “You don’t know the sort of creatures prowling the woods out here at night, Risa, and many of them would find it hard to pass up the chance to sink their teeth into you. You radiate defenseless innocence, and every unmated individual in this area would love nothing more than the opportunity to prove that they’re a big enough monster to scare the others away for you.”
Flicking his tongue over the shell of my ear, he pulls back. “It’d be careless of us to take our eyes off of you when we know full well the things that lurk in the shadows.”
I glance over at Bane. “Why would you live around people like that? You keep saying that it’s safe for me to stay here.”
“It is,” he instantly confirms, kicking off from the tree trunk to stalk closer, crowding me back a step so that I’m pinned between him and Stryker. “Because you’re ours, Risa. They’re not here because they need safety in numbers; these people are here becaus
e they’re running. We’re their shield to keep the world at bay, and they wouldn’t do anything to risk that protection. Stryker’s just trying to scare you so that he can get off on playing your hero.”
The man in question scoffs behind me, resting a hand on my hip. “Well now you’ve ruined it, ‘ya jerk.”
Biting back a smile, I meet Bane’s eye, leaning into Stryker for support. “Walk me through it again? I think I might be skipping a step.”
A tender look overtakes his face that I have trouble accepting is real. The desire to tell myself that I’m looking too deeply into things is a strong one, a knee jerk reaction to years of being told that no one else would want to put up with me, constantly reminded that I should just be happy I’m not forced to whore myself out to pay the rent; an ungrateful burden.
I can deal with people staring at me. Dancing at the club, I quickly got used to that, but I was more a part of the background, adding to the atmosphere rather than the center of attention. I was a nameless face, ogled in passing as people drank, maybe tossed some singles before they realized that I wasn’t going to strip for them. Yet these three men leave me hyper aware of every twitch I make, actually look at me like I’m a person and care about the answers to their questions. They see me, and for someone that’s spent a lifetime struggling through everything alone, it means more than I can say.
I’m just afraid that there’s nothing actually worth seeing.
“Right about here,” Bane states, placing his palm in the center of my torso, beneath my breasts. His finger brushes the hem of my sports bra, but he doesn’t try to cop a feel, face serious. “If you turn your focus inward, it should feel like there’s a tight knot. After you relax, connect with the earth around you, you should feel it start to loosen. Lean into that sensation, let it spread throughout your body.”
Following his instructions, I close my eyes, searching for the knot, yet all I find is a tightly coiled bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach. Several minutes pass without progress, and all the while, Bane never removes his hand. Gently, he starts stroking his fingers over the skin, drawing my focus to the spot, but for the wrong reasons. Stryker matches his rhythm on my hip, and the next thing I know, I’m a horny mess that has absolutely no interest in shifting anymore.
