"I'm Monica. Now please come inside," she urged again.
He held up both arms. "I'm all wet."
She giggled. "So am I." She held out her hand, palm up.
"Monica…? Is that you? I have been trying to call you for the past hour. What are you doing standing there?" Her dad's voice cut through the thick tension between them.
"Yeah Dad. It's me." She looked behind her to see her dad coming down the stairs in a thick, black robe with his cell phone clutched in his hand. "I broke down on the highway and Deacon gave me a ride."
"Who gave you a ride?" Her dad's voice trailed off when he looked outside to find Deacon standing there. "Who is this?"
"Hello sir," Deacon said. "I'm glad I could give you lift, Monica. Now I'll just be on my way." He tugged on his helmet and turned around.
"No, wait," Monica called out. She was almost over the threshold when her Dad grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Don't," her dad warned. "Do you see that lightning? We're in the middle of a storm. Someone just reported seeing a tornado out west."
"Yes, I see it. It's because of Deacon that I'm here and not on the side of the road in the storm," she said, jerking her arm out of his grip.
"Alright, alright," her dad said, throwing his hands up. "I'm being rude." He looked out after Deacon, who had reached his bike. "Hey Son! Why don't you come on in? The Mayor has warned everyone to stay inside until they lift the threat."
"I don't want to be a bother," Deacon said.
"It's no bother. You gave my daughter a ride home and she's safe. The least I could do is invite you inside so you can get warmed up and into some dry clothes."
Deacon nodded and came back up the steps. "Thank you, sir." He crossed over into the threshold and looked around the home.
"Call me Dr. Collins," her Dad said, holding out his hand. "You live around here, Son?"
Deacon shook hands with her dad.
"I used to. I was born here. I'm just visiting. I'll only be in town for a couple weeks," he said. "You can call me Deacon. Deacon Remy."
"Remy…" her Dad said, biting the corner of his lips and furrowing his brows.
Deacon's gaze swept over to Monica. His eyes were the color of moonlight blue—with a hint of violet. The combination was odd—she'd never seen a tone quite like it before. He surveyed her swiftly before glancing away and then down at the plush white carpet. He took a single step back so that his boots were back on the wood in the foyer.
Her dad shook his head after giving Deacon's name some thought. "Never heard of any Remys around here. Well, why are we all just standing here? Let me go grab some clothes for you and uh…" He looked behind him at Monica who was drenched from head to toe as well. "Monica, please cover yourself and change into some appropriate dry clothes. I don't want you to get sick."
It was only then that Monica realized that she was still in workout clothes that comprised of tight spandex. The storm warning had taken everyone by surprise. The gym, which included all changing and shower facilities, had closed prematurely and the manager had advised everyone to go home. Not only were there goosebumps on her arms but her nipples had made a clear impression against her fitted top. She was wondering if her reaction was from the cold or from being near a man that could give some of the guys at the gym a run for their money with the way his body was toned to perfection. She just couldn't stop looking at him.
Her dad cleared his throat.
Monica stiffened, momentarily abashed. "I'll be right back."
3
When Monica finished changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she came out of her room and raced back down the stairs only to have her dad meet her in the center of it.
"We need to talk," her dad exclaimed, giving her a stern look.
He pointed back behind her to show that he wanted her to back up and that he wouldn't let her pass. He knew she was eager to get back downstairs to Deacon, and he refused to let her by.
"What is it?"
"There's something you need to know about that guy," he said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper.
"You mean that guy named Deacon who helped me escape a dangerous storm?" she asked.
"Yes, that one. Where did you find him?"
She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "In case you've forgotten, he found me. On the side the road. With a broken down car. With the storm coming."
Her dad looked behind him, as if checking to see if Deacon was in earshot. Monica couldn't even see the guy from her position on the top level of the 4,000 plus square foot mansion.
"What are you worried about? He brought me home. Obviously he doesn't intend to harm me."
"Did you know he was a shifter?"
Monica shook her head, confused. "What?"
"The guy who gave you a ride home. He's a shifter."
"How do you know?"
This time, her dad matched her composure, folding his arms across his chest and staring blankly at her. "I'm a doctor, Monica. I've had the privilege of treating both types of patients. He has shifter written all over him. He doesn't even hide it. He wears the same tattoos of some of the other shifters running around town. And then he took his wallet out to air dry and flipped it right open. I saw the emblem on his driver's license and asked if he was a shifter and he flat out said yes."
She swallowed. "And so what? He's a shifter. So?"
"I'm just making you aware is all. Few people can tell the difference."
She sighed. "Of course, Dad, because we're all people." And she'd been too busy checking out his body to notice.
"Okay, you're right. I have no right to judge him based on that, but I saw the way he looked at you down there.” He threw his arm up toward the foyer.
Monica shrugged. "We were all looking at each other. I thought that's what people do when they meet for the first time."
Her dad rolled his eyes. "Not like that."
"I don't know what you're talking about. If you'll excuse me, I need to go thank him for getting me home. I bet you didn't even offer him drink or anything."
She moved past him and tried to rush down the stairs again, only to pause again when her Dad spoke the name of a man she was trying to avoid.
"I'm making sure that neither you or he gets any ideas. I know you parted ways with Evan over a minor disagreement but don't do anything foolish right away. You and I both know that Evan's having a rough time after finding out that he failed the bar exam. This is just a little bump in the road in your relationship. Don't make drastic decisions before you two can work things out again."
She turned back around. "You're getting way ahead of yourself, Dad. Plus, do you know how many chances I've given Evan? His mood swings are all over the place and I just can't deal with the stress it brings me. He’s been unstable for a while now."
"You need to at least talk to him and—"
"No. I broke it off with him months ago. I don't know why you're bringing this up now."
"You brought a guy home." Her dad shrugged. "My first impression was that you were dating again."
"Newsflash…just because I bring a guy home doesn't mean I'm dating him."
Her dad shook his head. "Either way, your guy…Deacon, David…Dory Remy whatever…seems to be just as unstable as you believe Evan to be. And I'm not talking mentally. He seems…un-groomed and like maybe he's a little out of your league."
"Oh my God. Conversation over." Monica threw up her hands. "I'll talk to you when you've had some rest."
Her dad grunted and watched as she rounded the spiral staircase to meet Deacon back downstairs, but when she reached the ground level of the home, it was quiet and empty like no one was there.
"Deacon?" she called out. "Are you dressed?"
Nobody responded.
The front door was closed but the lock was in the vertical position, showing that it was unlocked. She had this strong inclination to look out the window because her first guess was that he had left.
After looking
through the blinds and finding that his motorcycle was nowhere in sight and Deacon was nowhere to be seen, her heart sank.
Deacon had left. He'd probably felt her dad's indifference to him being who he was and left. Although the brunt of the storm still hadn't hit this area yet, the rain poured heavily and the wind thrashed the trees violently outside. She feared for his safety. She didn't care what he was. He deserved better hospitality than what he'd gotten here tonight.
All she had was a name and there wasn't any promise that she'd ever see him again.
4
Monica dragged herself out of bed early the next morning and called the tow trunk to go retrieve her broken down Corvette from the side of the road. The guy at the dealership had discovered that her car was affected by a recall and needed a part changed out. It was totally her fault for putting her car maintenance on the back burner. But she'd been busy lately and sitting at a repair shop watching the news anchors air the same stories over and over again and flipping through boring tv show reruns weren't exactly Monica's idea of fun. Plus when she remained idle for too long, she thought about how much time she'd wasted trying to repair her last relationship.
As always, her dad left the house around four a.m. that morning to start another round of thirteen hour shifts, so she didn't have to worry about running into him any time soon. She didn't even get a chance to confront him last night about what made Deacon run off so suddenly. By the time Monica had climbed back up the stairs, he'd already retreated to his bedroom. It was as if he knew what he'd done and said. His mission was obviously accomplished since he'd made it clear that Deacon seemed…un-groomed. Whatever that meant.
The last thing Monica wanted was to be on her dad's bad side, but he wasn't making it easy for her either. She'd been living at home for a little over four months following a break-up with her ex-boyfriend, Evan. And with her mom being on a volunteer mission at a children's home in Suriname, her dad had offered a shoulder to cry on when she needed it most. Monica knew that her dad's one true wish was for her to work things out with Evan so that they could eventually get married and retain their social status within the community.
She was the daughter of a doctor and Evan was the son of a former lawyer and a prominent judge. Both were from wealthy families with good reputations in Tellevue County. Their parents' had been the ones to set them up on their very first date. Of course, they'd had several things in common, but none of that mattered when it all came down to what Monica really wanted.
Last night had been the first night she had dreamed of something else other than a series of nonsensical images. Her dreams were filled with vivid images of Deacon Remy and his moonlight blue eyes. In the dream, there was a wolf and…birds. Hummingbirds. She'd never dreamed of hummingbirds before. She wasn't even sure she'd ever seen one in real life.
She sensed something had gone unresolved between them. She felt as if she was supposed to do something with him or for him, but she couldn't remember what she was supposed to do. It was the strangest feeling…and yet still, she couldn't get those darned hummingbirds off her mind.
5
The first half of the day flew by quickly for Monica, but that was the norm. She loved her job as a pediatric nurse. Just like her mom, she'd always had a passion to care for and work with kids. Seeing her patients when they were just newborns and watching them transform into toddlers was the best part of her life right now. She could always depend on a child to put a smile on her face. One day, she planned to have three or four of her own either by birth or adoption. In fact, Monica couldn't wait to start her life and do just that, but she also knew that rushing into marriage with a man she didn't love wouldn't be in her best interest, nor her future children's interests. With Evan out of her life, she was back at square one. But that was okay for now. One thing her past experiences had taught her was to recognize the things in life that weren't necessarily good for her.
When lunch rolled around, the break room was empty, except for Linda, the office receptionist. Linda was an intern who worked the morning shift and attended night classes at the local community college. She was also not a human, but no one could tell that about her from looking. Or at least Monica couldn't; Linda had offered that fact way before her first day on the job. Linda's shifter gene didn't change that she was a wonderful person all around.
"Hi Linda," Monica greeted, going over to the refrigerator and pulling out her lunch bag.
"Hi." Linda smiled and slid her tablet over to the side to make room for Monica at the table. "You're eating lunch early today, and I didn't see you at our staff meeting this morning."
Monica pulled out a chair and sat down. "Long night last night. My car broke down on the side of the road in the middle of that thunderstorm."
"Oh no. Can it be repaired?"
Monica shrugged. "I hope so. I had to call a driver to get me to work which is why I was late this morning for our meeting."
Linda frowned. "Ugh. I keep forgetting that you don't live near one of the bus stops. I don't know how I'd fight with the traffic if I had to drive around this town all day."
"Must be nice." Monica unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. "Finding a place on the bus route will be my first priority when I look for an apartment next week."
Linda rolled her eyes and then said, “Things are getting so expensive around here. I’ve been trying to find a unit since last month. I found something affordable at the Westgate Apartment communities over the weekend. I had my deposit all ready to go down there and was ready to sign on the dotted line, and then I heard about how a murderer broke into that poor reporter's apartment and threatened to kill her. I think her name's Cassie Grey. Did you hear about that?"
Monica frowned. "I didn't hear about that at all. Aspen Valley is usually safe. When did this happen?"
"Safe on your side of town maybe, but there have been some strange things going on lately." She slid the tablet back across the table so that Monica could skim the story.
While stuffing her face with her sub sandwich, Monica read the story. "Oh my God. That's terrible."
"Yes," Linda agreed. "The reporter was doing research on the shifter murders when she received the death threat. I can't sign a contract there now knowing that those murderers are close by. I might as well continue staying with my aunt."
"I'm sorry, Linda. I wish it was safer. Since we're both looking, I'll let you know if I see anything on my search."
"I can't afford what you can," she mumbled.
"This girl's on a budget too," Monica told her. "I'm not looking for anything fancy. Just a good starter place. When my boyfriend and I split up, I moved out. We had a large three bedroom condo, but I don't think I ever want anything that big again. It was pretty much a waste of money."
"Well, at least you've got it made. Girls like me have to struggle a bit before we can crawl, let alone walk."
Monica sighed and put her sandwich back on the wrapper. "It's not always what it seems. I don't necessarily have everything I could ever want either. Money can't buy everything."
Linda frowned. "Are you still bummed about your split with your boyfriend?"
"Absolutely not. I'm so over that. I wanted to ask you something…" She tried to fight the urge to ask Linda about something that had been on her conscious the whole morning, but her willpower to find Deacon again was stronger.
"Oh oh. You've got that strange look on your face."
"It's nothing bad. It's just something that's been bugging me all day."
"Okay…what is it?"
"I met a guy yesterday on the side of the road."
Linda scrunched up her nose. "On the side of the road?"
"Well, yes. He's the one who found me broken down and stranded. Refused to leave me out in the storm by myself and then gave me a ride home. I never got the chance to thank him properly and I really want to do that. I was wondering if you could help me out."
Linda looked down at the table. "I don't know. Shifters from other Packs cross thro
ugh here all the time. I probably don't even know him."
"He said he was raised here. I heard that members of a shifter pack are really close. Like family. Would you know if I gave you his last name?"
"I might."
"It's Remy."
"Remy…" She wrung her hands together on her lap. "There aren't any Remys in Aspen Valley anymore."
"He said he was visiting friends. His name is Deacon."
"Deacon Remy…" Linda whispered, her gaze shifting left and right in active thought.
"Do you know him?" Monica urged.
"I know of him," she confirmed.
"Please…what do you know of him?"
"He's a rogue," she stated.
Monica shook her head. "Rogue?"
"Yes, a rogue. He separated from the Pack on bad terms. Right before our current Alpha was named. Look, I don't really know anything other than that." Linda began stuffing uneaten lunch items back into her sack. "Like you said, he's probably just visiting. Solitary wolves rarely stick around that long. That's why we call them rogues…because they float about."
Monica placed her hand on Linda's forearm. "Is there anything else you can tell me about where he might be? I feel so bad about not thanking him and something happened that I need to apologize for."
Linda swallowed visibly and her nose flared as if she were trying to decipher Monica's scent. It was said that shifters could tell when someone was lying. At that moment, Monica was grateful Linda had that edge over her. That way Linda could tell that she was sincere and meant well about wanting to reconnect with Deacon.
"The Remys used to own a farm out over on the east side of town. His grandpa lost it because of debt. He was a gambler or something. I don't know." Linda shrugged. "After that, Deacon and his grandpa were homeless and living out of an auto body shop somewhere up near the mountains. I remember because that's where my papa got his truck fixed. Deacon used to work on cars out there during the day and then at night as a bouncer for LIVE nightclub. He went rogue and disappeared after his grandpa died."
Rogue Wolf Page 2
