Rogue Wolf

by Amber Ella Monroe

  "I don't think that's the reason. Come to think of it, I haven't seen a hummingbird since I got in town. Have y'all ran them all off?" Deacon asked.

  "Not me. Not my wolf. I suppose they're hiding around here somewhere."

  They talked personal business, about the recent string of shifter murders, and about the strength of the Pack for another half hour before Deacon noticed it was getting late. He had another person to see first thing in the morning and he was already dead ass tired from riding around in the Valley.

  "You can stay for supper if you want," Luke offered while setting up a grill in the corner of the back patio.

  "I'm not gonna take up too much more of your time tonight. I'll be around for a little bit longer while I find out what I'm gonna do with that old building. It's about the only thing I own outright except for my motorcycles."

  "You mean the body shop?" Luke asked.

  "Yeah, I don't want to leave it sitting there anymore. It's still in pretty good shape and the foundation is solid. Think I should have the building torn down and sell the lot?"

  "Sell it to who?"

  "The gas station owner right next door to it said he wouldn't mind working out something with me if I decide to sell. He doesn't have all the funds right now but I figured I could hire a lawyer to write up a contract or something. I'm still undecided about the whole thing. What do you think?"

  Luke frowned. "Hmmm, do you want my real and honest opinion?"

  Deacon nodded.

  "You should work with what you have for now and then renovate the place. I think you should get back to doing what you do best—repairing motor vehicles. A long time ago you told me that's what made you happy. You oughta do what makes you happy and not what other people expect you to do."

  "There's a lot to think about, Luke."

  Deacon left shortly after that, but not before promising to stop by again if he left Aspen Valley. As tempting as moving back to the Valley sounded, there were still some memories lingering around that left a bad taste in his mouth. Yet still, his wolf got excited the moment he rolled his motorcycle out on the dirt road again, begging Deacon to abandon the bike, shift, and run through the mountains and valleys they still loved. He decided he wouldn't deprive his true self any longer. It was time to call it a day and let the beast in him run wild and free.

  8

  "Girl, you look hot! Have you been working out? I'm so used to seeing you in those scrubs," Brianna exclaimed the moment Monica slid into the passenger side seat of her car.

  It was Friday night and this would mark Monica's first night out on the town after a very long time retreating into her shell after the breakup with Evan.

  "I have a trial membership for that new gym out in Cross City. I went to school with the couple who owns it so I thought I'd support them during their grand opening month. I'm loving it so far. But I just got my car back this morning so I haven't been since Sunday," Monica said.

  "Ugh, I don't know what I'd do without my ride for that long."

  "Yeah," Monica grumbled. "The parts took forever and a day to get there."

  "So, you ready?" Brianna asked pulling out of the driveway of the Collins' mansion.

  "I think so. I was just talking to a girl at work about this nightclub the other day. I've been wanting to go, so when you told me about the party I knew I had to come out."

  "Yeah, LIVE has been around ever since I could remember. I was surprised that you accepted. You usually say no to these type of events," Brianna said.

  "Well, I'm trying something different this time around," Monica told her.

  "You'll definitely find different here, and despite what they say, not everyone who hangs out there is looking for trouble," Brianna replied. "I'm gonna swing by Diedre's house to see if she's still going and then we'll head out that way. It'll be a blast."

  9

  Deacon looked down at his wristwatch again, stood up from his chair, and paced the small waiting area of the back office again. He'd been waiting for Leo for almost an hour.

  "Stop pacing around here like a caged wolf," Brenda, Leo's assistant, told him. "You're making me nervous. He said he'd be here tonight, then he'll be here. I can have one of the girls bring you another beer…maybe something a little stronger this time to calm your nerves."

  "Naw, I'm good. I've had enough already and I've gotta drive back to the mountains tonight," he replied.

  Deacon had arrived well before the first group of club patrons had begun showing up, but now he could hear the DJ already giving his intro, birthday shoutouts, and all that other stuff. If he didn't get out of here soon, he'd probably be stuck elbowing his way through the crowd. But he wouldn't leave until he did what he said he would do; he wanted to be done with this. Leo was a busy entrepreneur and it had taken Deacon a few days to set up a time to meet with him face to face. Deacon didn't want to just drop the package off and leave it on top of his desk. He didn't really know any of the employees who worked for him now. Brenda was about the only person here who could be trusted, but then again she was a little on the ditzy side too when she got to drinking as she was now.

  He watched as Brenda brought a cocktail glass to her lips and took a few healthy chugs. Then she said, "What about a quick session? You can take your pick of any of the call girls here tonight to help you loosen up. They'll probably appreciate the change. You know…see what you Tunica men are working with."

  "No. I'm fine," Deacon stated, flatly.

  "Suit yourself," Brenda said. She chugged the rest of her cocktail, looking him up and down. "You've been working out pretty good. You oughta talk to Leo about a job. He's been working on beefing up the security team."

  "I'm not looking for a job. I have one. Plus, I didn't come to Aspen Valley to stay."

  "That's unfortunate."

  The door to the office opened and Leo sauntered inside followed by a couple members of the security detail.

  "Speak of the devil…" Brenda commented.

  "Deacon Remy." Leo grinned, shaking his head. "I thought I'd never see you again."

  "I've been getting that a lot lately," Deacon replied, and then the two gave each other a brotherly hug.

  Leo dismissed the security guards from the room and then he turned to address Brenda. "One of your girls was out there giving the new hire a hard time about her slowness. You might want to go check her ass before we lose the new person who has been very reliable for the past few weeks. I can't say the same about the hag who's hounding her."

  Brenda made a noise of discontentment and rose from her chair. "I'm willing to bet I know whose doing all the bitching. After you speak with Deacon, don't run off again. I need to talk to you about an issue with one vendor."

  "I'll be here until close," Leo confirmed.

  When Brenda was gone, Deacon joined Leo in his office. He recalled the numerous times coming in here while he worked as a bouncer. Back then, Leo would hand deliver paychecks on payday. He spent a lot of one on one time with his employees, both shifters and humans, which was why he was both popular and well known in their community. Despite the reputation LIVE had earned for being the nightclub where the unexpected happened and where one could witness anything from the occasional drunken patron causing terror onsite or cops showing up to bust the latest felon, Leo was still a pretty well respected businessman.

  "So what's up? You need a job? Cause I've got one for you," Leo began, shuffling through a stack of forms on his desk.

  "No, that's not why I'm here tonight. Remember all those times you fronted me the money to pay the bills down at the auto body shop?"

  "I remember vaguely, but I was doing you a favor."

  "Yeah, well, I told you I'd pay you back one day and I meant it." Deacon dragged a few stacks out of a wool drawstring bag and piled them on the desk in front of Leo.

  "I knew you meant it, Deacon, but you didn't have to go through all this trouble to come up with all that," Leo said, looking at the stack of bills in shock.

  "It wasn't a
s much trouble as you think," Deacon replied. "I worked for that money because I knew that one day I'd have to come back here to pay the Remy debt."

  "Is this what this is about? Your family's debt?"

  "Partly so."

  "Well, you know I'm not exactly on a dog pound food diet. I could do without you paying me back," Leo replied. "If this is all you've got…"

  "No, it's not all I've got. I've been saving a lot lately. And honestly, I have nothing to spend my money on at the moment. Dale, the banker, says I should put it in the bank. Invest and all that, but I don't know who to trust anymore."

  "Well, you could trust me, kid. I won't let you down. I'm possessive of my shit too, and I only fuck with one investment guy here in town and that's Dale. Have you gone to see the Alpha?"

  "No." Deacon looked down at the table. "I'm sure he knows that there's a rogue on his turf though. I heard he's got eyes and ears in every corner of Aspen Valley and Cross City."

  "I'm sure he does. With all these shifter killings going on, we need eyes and ears everywhere," Leo commented. "You need to see him. Let him know you're not here to cause trouble. He's more honorable than any Alpha the Pack has had. Trust me when I say that you want to get on his good side from the beginning. Plus if you're going around town paying folks back that's just like pumping money into our little community. He'd be happy to hear of that."

  Deacon sighed. "I guess I'm saving that visit for last. I'll schedule a meeting with the Alpha before I leave town again."

  They spent more time discussing Deacon's job at the casino in Tunica until someone who worked for Leo entered his office. Realizing that the guy was busier than ever, Deacon said his goodbyes and pushed himself out into the hallway and then into the main area of the nightclub.

  He had every intention of high-tailing it straight to the front door, but then something surreal hit him, forcing his gaze to a tall woman in a royal blue form-fitting minidress. A women he knew…

  Deacon couldn't believe what he was seeing. The woman was Monica Collins, the tempting raven-haired beauty who had visited him in his dreams for the past few nights. The same woman he had rescued from the side of the road. The same woman whose father had told him that she was meant to marry another. Not that he needed confirmation or anything that she was clearly taken, but there it was…as clear as the cloudless night sky. A tall guy with blond hair wearing expensive clothing and a beer in his hand stood right in front of her. They were off to the side a bit and away from the crowd. He was talking down at her. She was shaking her head. The uncomfortable and humiliating expression on her face didn't look promising. She spoke to him with her lips thinning in anger. Her hands were flailing as she spoke. At one point, she pushed at his chest. It didn't take a wolf with heightened senses to know that she was ticked off at him.

  Emotions of white-hot anger and downright jealousy intensified in Deacon and the wolf within him. Confusion set in because he couldn't process his feelings or the scene playing out in front of him. He didn't know whether his emotions were fueled by the need to have her or from the obvious way in which her rich boyfriend was making her uncomfortable.

  Deacon was riveted to the spot. The human side of him wouldn't allow him to look the other way. And his wolf refused to leave behind what was his. His next moves were fueled by his immediate and uncontrollable emotions.

  10

  "You shouldn’t have come here, Monica."

  Evan was so drunk that he slurred his speech.

  "I go where I please," she replied.

  His current state of inebriation made him unattractive. On a good day, women thought he was so good looking that they would throw themselves at him. Surprisingly, Monica had even witnessed his influence over women when they were on dates together. As far as Monica knew, Evan had never been a cheater. He was just a guy who had lost his way, but he seemed to resist every opportunity to get his life back on track. Even now, he was making an utter fool of himself. He never could handle his liquor and had clearly had one too many drinks.

  "Were you following me? Huh?" he asked.

  "Hell no," she replied. "I came with a friend. I didn't even know you would be here. If I did, I would've avoided this place like the plague."

  When she first saw Evan stumbling around on the dance floor a few minutes ago, Monica couldn't believe her eyes. She almost wished that he hadn't seen her, but she had stared across the room so hard trying to figure out if the drunken fool had, in fact, been Evan that he must have sensed it. He had caught her gaze and then separated himself from the girl he was rubbing up on to come over to her. She actually felt sorry for him when she had asked him if he was okay. What she should've done was run in the opposite direction. Now she wondered if he'd taken her kindness out of context. Somehow he'd pinned her into a small corner of the room.

  "So you admit that you're avoiding me? I've called you almost every week but you won't answer your phone," he complained. "I thought we would stay friends."

  "You don't need to call me every week. I'm perfectly fine. I'm living with my dad."

  "And hows that working out for ya?" Evan took another gulp of his beer, looking down at her as if he expected her to whine about having to move back in with a parent.

  "It's working out great. I haven't been stressed in months."

  "Is that so? Since we've both had a little break away from each other, how about this…why don't we kick it like old times? Remember how we used to fuck in the car behind the country club at those boring ass functions? I miss that. I wish we—"

  "You're such a pig!" She pushed on his chest. "Just forget you ever saw me. And I hope you're not driving."

  "No…I'm not driving. Promise. There was this slut I met at a party down the street…I came with her. Don't know where the hell she is now. I'd rather go home with you anyway."

  He placed a finger against her cleavage and she slapped his hand away. This time she broke free from the corner, but he followed her anyway.

  "Monica, please…things aren't the same. I know I've been acting weird lately. I was supposed to pass the bar the first time around and I didn't. I lost the position the firm had lined up for me."

  "That's your problem. And instead of working on the issue, this…" she held her arms up "…is what you do."

  "You're not a saint either. What the hell are you doing here anyway? Only the town sluts who want to get fucked hang out here. Trust me…I know. And the way you're wearing that tight little dress, it looks like you're looking for the same thing. If you needed sex all you had to do was give me a ring." He grinned.

  Monica looked at him in disgust. What did she ever see in him? He was rude and mouthy, but he'd never been this degrading to women. One thing was sure, he certainly didn't know how to hold his liquor at all. He was a complete mess and it wasn't her responsibility to look out for him anymore. She'd called it off with him months ago. Why was she even standing here?

  She couldn't bear talking to him in his current state. Heck, she couldn't bear talking to him at all. It was why she'd been avoiding his calls. He'd changed over the past year, stressing over his screw-ups so badly that it effected everyone around him.

  "By the way, that girl you just left is scowling at me from across the room, it's obvious what you came here to do," Monica told him. "Just forget that we ever saw each other. Now if you don't mind, you're in my space," she told him.

  Evan grabbed her painfully by the wrist and slammed the back of her hand into the wall. "No, you won't be going anywhere. You think you can just get away with what you want because you're daddy's little angel. Newsflash, you're a whore just like the rest of these cock-sucking sluts."

  The people around them were oblivious to what was really going on. The crowd was thick and everyone was dancing or engaged in other side conversations. For the casual passerby, it probably just looked like they were a couple. If she ran to one of the bouncers or screamed for help, this would end terribly. Evan was already a wrecked soul as it was. If he got locked up one mor
e time for misconduct and inappropriate behavior, it was likely that no law firm worth their weight in gold would ever hire him. His daddy's money could only go so far. Bail him out maybe. But erase his criminal record and buy him a new reputation? No way.

  Monica tried to wring her arm free. "If you don't get your hands off of me…"

  "If I don't get my hands off you, then what will you—"

  He never got a chance to finish his sentence. A dark figure—a man—appeared behind them. The man threw Evan backward into the crowd. His body flew across the dance floor where he collided with a metal beam.

  Monica hadn't even realized Evan had gripped her about the wrist so hard until she felt her skin tingling where his fingers had dug into her flesh. But she didn't care about the pain. When the man who had thrown Evan some twenty feet across the floor revealed himself, all tension and discomfort left her body. The man who she never thought she'd see again stepped out of the shadows into the strobe lights.

  "Deacon," she mouthed.

  His moonlight blue eyes were filled with confusion, and his face was still riddled with something akin to anger.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  She nodded. "I think so. Thank you for doing that."

  Deacon picked up a drawstring sack from off the floor. He must have dropped it to throw Evan across the room. His arms were bare just like last time, but no wet clothing stuck to him like a glove. He now sported what looked like a few days' growth of beard, giving him a more serious edge. Under the glow of the strobe lights, her gaze ran across his skin and landed on a faint mark on his left forearm that she hadn't seen before. The mark didn't look like any of the man-made tattoos on the rest of him. She'd seen the mark before. It resembled something that had recurred in her dreams the past few nights. As she glanced at it, she experienced a sensation akin to deja-vu. A vision of a male with sandy brown hair and midnight blue eyes carrying a hummingbird feeder. But that was absurd. Why would she be thinking of this in the middle of a nightclub?