By evening, most of my muscular aches had reduced enough for me to sit at the table without hunching or squirming for a less painful position. Though I had practically become an invalid, Graham didn't complain once about having to play nursemaid. Color had leaked back into his brown, wax-paper cheeks. Even his cough eased up a little.
We had just finished eating and cleaning the kitchen when bright headlights lit up the inside of the trailer. I had parked my car around back so that no one would get suspicious if they saw a different car parked in my uncle's driveway. Graham peeked out of the curtain to see who had paid us a visit. A black Jaguar pulled up behind my uncle's beat up old truck.
My heart sank.
"Tell him I'm not here and that you haven't heard from me,” I said.
Shrugging off the aches and pains, I limped into the guestroom and hid under the bed. Immature, I know, but this came from a person who liked cartoons.
A knock on the front door and my uncle answered it. Boisterous greetings circled around the room as he welcomed everyone inside. Although there were at least three new voices out there, Dane's was the only one that concerned me.
"How are you feeling?” he asked. “You certainly look better."
"I'm feeling better,” Uncle replied. “Though I'm still upset with you for not telling me about Atlanta until you got there."
"You weren't in any condition to come with us and you know it. What did your doctor say?"
Graham mumbled something incoherent. His way of cursing.
"Don't give me that look,” Dane sniped. “You needed the rest. Hell, you shouldn't have followed us to North Carolina in the first place. I swear, old man, if I ever find out you're holding out on me again, I'll commit your sorry butt to a nursing home."
"Okay, you two, break it up,” Fisk said. “Graham, we brought you a souvenir."
A plastic bag crinkled. I hoped to God it wasn't Vaughn or Adam's skin. If it was, furniture would be slamming around in here.
"Peach butter and a loaf of peach bread,” Fisk said. “The last time we went to Savannah, I remembered how much you like the stuff at that little country store."
"You didn't have to do that,” Graham said, a smile coming over his voice. “Thank you."
Footsteps scuffed the rug in the living room. Someone had made themselves comfortable in Graham's squishy leather recliner. The refrigerator door opened. Foil crinkled, dishes slid and bumped across the metal rack.
"What smells so good?” Riley asked. “You got any leftovers? Is that catfish and hushpuppies?"
Maybe I should have confirmed with Graham that he would get rid of them before I hid underneath this cramped bed. Dust tickled my nose, forcing me to stifle a series of sneezes.
After a few minutes more of dialog, feet strolled closer to the bedroom. I squeezed myself tighter into the shadows, awakening my limbs with pins and needles. The footsteps stopped for a moment in front of the door. Black jeans covered a pair of black hiking boots. They stayed there for several minutes, crossed at the ankles, calves leaning against the frame.
The feet stepped inside the room and the light flipped on. The door closed behind them.
"Are you going to stay underneath that bed all night?” Dane asked.
I didn't say a word. Heat rushed into my cheeks and my forehead thunked against the carpeted floor. The word “idiot” screamed inside my brain.
Creaking bed springs from the mattress made me look up. Dane was down on his hands and knees, smile stretched across his tight, tanned face. He offered me a hand.
"If nothing else, there's a lot less dust out here,” he said. “Come on. I swear I won't bite."
Cursing under my breath, I let him help me out into the open again. I didn't get up right away because my sore body needed a moment to recover. My face remained neutral, unwilling to show him any pain, as that would certainly mean the death of me. I sat on the floor with my legs curled slightly underneath the bed. Dane sat on the floor with his back against the dresser and trying hard not to laugh.
"Underneath the bed. Really.” So much for trying. He burst into hilarity anyway. His tanned face turned cranberry red and he almost fell over.
I took a swing at him. “Stop laughing at me, you jerk!"
"I'm sorry,” he said, regaining his composure. “You should have known we'd pick up your scent from the moment we stepped inside."
"Did you guys get what you came for in Atlanta?"
Dane's face turned serious. “No, we didn't. We stayed a few more hours after noticing a big commotion in the backyard of your den. Matt's pissed out of his mind and worrying himself to death. We followed him and a few of your pack members back to your house, thinking you were there. He went ballistic before running into the backyard, changing, and heading off into the woods. He spent hours howling up a storm."
Dane remained silent. He reached for me, touching a tear that slid down my cheek. I hadn't even known it was there. My heart and mind were elsewhere. I pulled away from him and wiped it myself.
What was I doing? Matt would go insane, wandering the planet until he found me. I knew he would, because that was the wolf I had married.
"You should call him,” Dane said. “As much as I dislike the guy because he stole you from us, you need to call him. He's worried sick over you. I left Scott in Atlanta to keep an eye on him. I know he wouldn't do anything drastic like suicide, but I know that look in his eyes. He'll go to any extremes to find you."
I didn't say a word. Pictures of Matt starting fights contaminated my thoughts. He would get himself killed if he picked a fight with Seth. The only thing that kept him from doing it now was his well-trained obedience to a stronger wolf. Yeah, right. How long that would last? Matt would leave the pack because of me. I knew it.
"Do yourself a favor, if not him,” Dane said. “Call him."
I put my hands on the bed and stood. Pain seized my ankle. I clenched my teeth as my body pitched forward. Thank goodness Dane had his hands out to catch me before I landed on my face. He eased me on the bed and pulled up my pant leg.
"It's just a sprain,” I said, panting. Seizing hold of my hem, I tried to keep him from examining my foot.
"A sprain, huh? Did this come from jumping out of a three-story window?” He slapped my hands out of the way and went back to pulling off my uncle's stretched woolen sock. He froze. Slowly, his head lifted, ire glazing his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you? Maybe you should go to your precious pack and tell them that you risked your neck jumping out of a window to save their lives! Maybe they'll take you back!"
Although some of the swelling had gone down, my ankle looked like an orange had slipped under the skin. My swollen foot bloated up on the top and around the toes. It still had dark purplish bruising, but it looked better than before. Really. Dane poked and prodded, trying to assess the damage. My pain receptors answered him loud and clear with shrieks catching in my throat. I yanked my foot away and slid the sock back in place.
Glowering, Dane stood and placed his hands on his hips. “You went a full day like this without getting any medical attention? Did you suffer brain damage too? You may not heal like us, but you're a fast healer nonetheless. If something's broken and it heals wrong, someone's going to have to break bones and reset that foot again. Is that what you want? To be a cripple? You're going to the hospital."
"And you're nuts. They'll want blood work they can't have. I'll take my chances with ice packs and elevation."
"Well, I won't. Either you're going to the hospital or I'll call Matt and have him take you. Your choice."
"You wouldn't."
Dane unclipped his cell phone and flipped it open.
"All right,” I conceded. “You win. But you had better have a plan for getting us out of there without drawing blood or I'm taking you down with me."
Chapter 34
Everyone wanted to come, but Dane put his foot down. It would look suspicious if everyone stood around a hospital waiting area for a sprained ankle, so he
ordered them to keep Graham company. Since we had some leftover catfish, Uncle agreed to cook it up as long as they stayed and played a few rounds of Pinochle. To my surprise, Riley was a pushover for my uncle's kindness. The promise of a free meal was nothing more than an incentive. Uh-huh.
Dane drove us to the hospital and checked me in as his wife. We explained to the receptionist that we went on vacation and had our identification stolen on top of my sprained ankle while trying to catch a cab. When the nurse asked how we would pay, Dane took out his checkbook and wrote a check for five hundred dollars, promising more if they needed it. I hated being a charity case, so I promised to pay Dane back every penny. Then I remembered how he played a part this by leaving me at the hotel. So I recanted my statement and demanded he buy me soda from the vending machine.
Once he got me situated, Dane stepped outside for a few minutes to check his messages. Several minutes later he returned with knitted eyebrows and pursed lips. Scott had left a message about Matt going off the deep end again, wanting to know if he should intervene. Friends—the Goergia Pack, I'd wager—hovered around the house trying to calm him down, but a chair flew out the window and into the backyard. If someone didn't intervene, one of the neighbors might call the police and make matters worse. Before that happened, the pack would take drastic measures like beating him unconscious and taking him back to the den.
Dane handed over the phone and ordered me to call him. At the rate our hospital visit was going, I had about a good hour or two before I could see a doctor. I took the phone and limped out of the emergency room doors.
Stephan answered. Although it warmed my insides to hear the slight ruggedness in his voice, the background ranting bound my attention to the problem at hand. Likewise, he also seemed a touch elated right before handing the phone to Matt.
"Where are you?” he asked, voice cracking. “I've been scouring the city, calling your family. Honey, please, tell me where you are."
"Matt, I'm fine,” I said, then gulped through the lump in my throat.
"Then tell me where you are. I'll pick you up. Please."
"Matt, I don't want you to.” Yikes! Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. Something about that silence on the other end told me so. “Sweetheart, I love you. But coming home will only make things worse. I need some time. You couldn't help me even if you wanted to. Just stay with the pack for—"
"The hell with the pack!” He paused, taking a breath. “I can't live without you. I need you."
Tears welled up, hanging by the threads of my bottom eyelashes. “I know, but you also need a pack. Please. For me. Don't waste what you have with them. I'll come back; I just can't do it now. And don't be mad at Seth. This isn't his fault. He only did what he had to do to protect his pack. I respect that."
"But what in god's name did you do?"
I hesitated for a long time as a silent war waged inside me. “I can't tell you over the phone. I'd rather do it face to face when there's time. Just do me a favor and keep Vaughn and Adam safe."
He paused this time. “It goes back to their contracts, doesn't it?"
"How did you—” I cut myself off. I knew Vaughn was one of the best in the business when it came down to pack security. After all, I found out at the picnic that he also made his living as a private investigator. “It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does. You knew about the contract on me. You knew about the ones on Vaughn and Adam. How? Tell me something so that I don't go crazy trying to figure this shit out for myself. I've earned that much of an explanation, haven't I?"
The whole scene reeked of déjà vu. I didn't want to have another bedroom fight over the phone with more than three hundred miles separating us. Matt didn't deserve to find out this way, but at the same time, if I said nothing, who knew when I'd muster up enough courage again? This had reached the point where Matt would walk out whether I told him or not. What did I have to lose that I hadn't lost in the past twenty-four hours?
Taking a deep breath, I replied, “I'm a bounty hunter, Matt. I've been hunting rogues—among other things—for years."
The tears cascaded down my face. Several heads turned, ignoring the smoke billowing from the ends of their cigarettes. Annoyed, I turned my back to them and stepped away. Matt hadn't said a word on the other end of the phone. Who knew what was going through his mind? In a way, I didn't want to know, so I kept talking.
"A lot has happened over the last eight months. So many hunters—friends—have died, so the group disbanded. I never thought we'd get back together. Our lull gave me time to start thinking about the family we've always wanted. But then I got a message that some of our people went missing. I couldn't turn my back on them, so I got involved.” I snorted a laugh and shook my head. “Dedicated to death ... that's me. Or at least that's what I'm beginning to—"
A loud speaker blared above my head, paging a string of doctors to the emergency room. The noise startled me so bad that I ducked out of the way, thinking the speaker would drop on my head. Dane strolled through the sliding glass doors, scanning the area until he found me. He jerked his head, gesturing to come back inside.
"What the hell was that?” Mat shouted. “You're at a hospital, aren't you? You're hurt! Son of a bitch, Lex, how bad is it?"
"Would you stop treating me like a baby? It's not that bad."
"Like the hell it's not! We don't go to hospitals unless we're dying or dead, or can't find a hole to bury ourselves in. I'll find you no matter what, so you might as well tell me where you are."
"It's nothing, Matt, I can handle it.” Nothing like an injury to delay the good tongue-lashing I'd get for keeping something like this from him.
"Just like you handled telling me about your past?"
Ouch! Now that hurt. But did I tell him? Of course not. “Look, I have to go. The doctor's waiting. Just promise that you won't do anything to jeopardize your place in the pack. Watch over Vaughn and Adam for me. Prom—"
"Honey, I just want to see you for myself. To know that you're okay. Please, tell me where you are."
"Promise me, Matt. Don't cause any trouble for the pack."
Dane offered his arm, guiding me back to the emergency room.
"I have to go. Promise me.” I didn't want to let go of his voice until he said the words.
After a slight hesitation, he murmured, “I promise. I ... I love you."
"I love you, too.” And I ended the call.
As minutes blinked on the cell phone screen, my past, present, and future flashed before my eyes. Dane pulled me into a tight hug, taking a few moments to shelter me in his comforting arms. The damn doctor would have to wait. I needed a hug.
By the time we saw the doctor, Dane asked if it was okay to leave the blood work for last because he wanted my pain to go away. I thought it was my job to complain about pain. After asking a few questions, and looking too tired to care, the doctor didn't see any problem with going to x-ray first.
It turned out that I had three small stress fractures on the meta-something bones and a bad sprain. The doctor was about to do something when a screaming ambulance rolled up to the ER. He had just enough time to put a gelled splint on it—for the time being—before leaving the exam room. Since we already had the prescription, we took that as an invitation to get out while the gettin’ was good. He mentioned something about casting it up, but we couldn't risk the phlebotomist coming around and shoving a needle in my vein. Dane scooped me in his arms and out the front door we went.
When we arrived at the double-wide, the guys had snored their way to dreamland, leaving the dishes piled in the sink. Riley had taken the recliner, rubbing his stomach and licking his lips, while Fisk took the couch. Dane snatched his Steeler's cap and slapped him across the top of the head with it to wake him. Graham didn't wake, so I went back to his bedroom and checked on him. Before I could make it to the door, his snoring stopped me in my tracks. The old man sounded like a garbage disposal with all that congestion. Sighing, I turned around and hobbled back t
o my bedroom.
The thought of Matt and what he was going through infected my thoughts. Taking a chance, I picked up my cell phone, noticed six new messages from him, and decided to call him back. Every time I reached his cell, it clicked over to his voice mail. So, I took a chance and called the den.
Isabella answered. After our last discussion about basically kicking my ass if I caused problems, I thought she would be hostile and belligerent. A sensuous, mothering voice wasn't what I expected.
"Matt told us what happened,” she said. “He and some of the others are out searching hospitals around the city."
"They're wasting their time,” I said. “I'm not even in the state."
She paused. “Oh, little one ... Where are you?"
I half-smiled. “Somewhere."
"I know you're upset, Alexa, but this isn't helping. Matt's going out of his mind looking for you and I don't blame him. We had to use sedatives to calm him down last night. He's still pack, so naturally we're all worried about him ... and you. Pack or not."
"What about Seth? I'm sure he's busting a gut of concern.” I clenched my jaw to stop the sarcasm.
"I stand by my husband's decision. But that doesn't mean I worry about you any less.” Isabella paused. “Damn it, Lex, why didn't you tell us? What did we do to earn your mistrust?"
I could have pointed the finger at so many things, but it call came down to one in particular. Loyalty. I was comfortable with the Club more than the Georgia Pack because they weren't “pack” wolves. The only experience I've ever had with pack wolves was with Parry putting me in my half-bred place. Seth exacerbated matters by making me the omega. So in the end, I didn't trust anyone in leadership. Dane was different. I had known him all my life. That kind of friendship and love doesn't disappear overnight. I talked a good talk about never going back to the Club or washing my hands of them. But when it came down to it, I'd jump whenever Dane said jump. Of course, how high was another story. We women can't let the men think they're always in charge.
Scuffling from the other side of the phone brought me back to the conversation.
Half-Breed Page 26
