“Like I said, none of it matters now.”
“Of course it does,” Julie insisted. “Witnessing domestic violence is a type of abuse all on its own. Watching our moms be hurt and terrorized was something that hurt and terrorized us. It’s a frightening and distressing experience, and it impacts every part of a person’s—”
“That’s your therapist talking.”
Julie clasped her hand. “Speaking of Aidan, he wants to see you. He wants to help you through this. It’s going to be a trying time for you. A little support, a friendly ear, would be good for you.”
Gwen gritted her teeth. “I don’t want or need anything from him.”
She’d attended therapy years ago after Julie stated that she wouldn’t go unless Gwen did. Gwen had never liked it or the therapist. Never liked his probing gaze or his insistence that she “needed” his help to heal. It had creeped her out, but not nearly as much as when he admitted that he’d “developed feelings” for her. He’d seemed completely shocked that she didn’t feel the same way, and he hadn’t been at all happy that she told him to stay away from her.
Gwen had never told Julie because Aidan seemed to be truly helping her, and God knew that Julie needed that. “I’m glad you feel he helps you. Therapy is a good thing, I know that. But it’s not for everyone.”
Julie held up her hands. “Okay. I’m just the messenger.”
“Yeah, I know. You sounded exactly like him.” It almost made her shudder.
“He was very specific about what he wanted me to say.”
“Who?” asked Marlon as he entered the room.
“Aidan,” replied Julie.
Marlon’s mouth flattened. “Is that so?”
Julie tilted her head. “Why don’t you like him?”
Marlon sank onto the sofa opposite them. “I have my reasons.” One of which was that Gwen had told him about Aidan’s creepy and wildly unprofessional declaration of love. Her foster brother was the only person who knew.
Shrugging the matter off, Julie turned to Gwen. “Anyway, I came here because . . . It should be easy to do the right thing, but we all know it doesn’t always work that way, and I wanted you to know that I’m behind you on this.”
Gwen patted her hand. “Thanks, Jules.”
Julie went to speak, but then two large figures entered the room, their footsteps eerily silent. Julie tensed under Zander and Bracken’s scrutiny—she wasn’t comfortable around men, particularly ones so powerfully built.
Placing a reassuring hand on Julie’s arm, Gwen spoke, “Mr. Devlin—”
“Zander,” he reminded her, his gaze intense as it fixed on Gwen.
“Right. Zander. Do you need something?”
“Yeah.” But he didn’t elaborate.
“Can it wait? I’m sort of busy right now.” And Gwen would rather not talk to him if he would insist on revisiting their earlier topic of conversation.
Julie leaned into Gwen and asked quietly, “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Gwen assured her. “Julie, this is Zander and Bracken. They’re guests here. Zander, Bracken, this is my big sister, Julie.”
Julie forced a shaky smile. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Likewise,” said Bracken.
Zander just nodded before sliding his gaze back to Gwen, and that puzzled her. Julie was exceptionally beautiful, and guys ogled her all the time. Bracken’s eyes held a flicker of appreciation, but Zander didn’t seem at all affected. Maybe he was gay. Yep, that must be it. Ah, how disappointing for females everywhere.
Julie stood and straightened her sweater. “I should be going.”
Gwen grabbed her hand. “You can’t leave without seeing Yvonne.”
“She’s cleaning the rooms on the third floor,” said Marlon, rising. “I’ll come up with you.”
As her foster siblings headed up the stairs, Gwen arched a brow at Zander. “What can I help you with?”
His head tilted. “Actually, this conversation is more about how we can help you.”
She blinked, confused.
Bracken stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What breed of shifter is Andie?”
“She’s a cougar.”
“But not part of a pride?” asked Bracken.
“She was raised by humans. I don’t know how that came about, didn’t ask. I figured it was her business. People didn’t realize she was a shifter until she was a teenager. She was always quiet and kept to herself.” Maybe because she’d known she was different and thought people wouldn’t accept her once they found out, thought Gwen.
Zander moved closer. “When did she change her story?”
“About a week ago. She wants me to do the same thing, or to at least lie to the council.”
Zander’s eyes studied her face, as if she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. “But you’re going to tell the truth. Why?”
Gwen gave a nonchalant shrug. “Sometimes people need others to speak up for them.” She knew that better than most.
“We want to help,” said Bracken.
Recalling their mention of a shelter, she puffed out a breath. “I guess Andie might go with you. I’d have to ask.”
Bracken shook his head. “No, we want to help you. We’re also prepared to place her somewhere safe until this is over. She’ll be welcome to remain at the shelter indefinitely, if that’s what she wants.”
Gwen looked from one male to the other. “I don’t see how you can help me.” Or why they would, for that matter. “I’m not fighting shifters.”
“No,” said Zander, “you’re up against people who are anti-shifter. That’s bad. These people aren’t rational when it comes to us, and they often think they’re a law unto themselves. You might be human, but you’ve allied with a shifter in this matter—to those people you’re dealing with, you’re now just as bad as us.”
“I know that, but I also know that it’s not your problem. There’s no reason for you to make it yours. And, as I said, I don’t see how you could help me.”
“It’s unlikely that they’ll try to physically harm you if me and Bracken are here. They hate our kind, sure, but they also fear us. Typically, fear is at the root of their hatred.”
Gwen pursed her lips. “So . . . when you say you want to help me, you just mean you’ll stick around in the hope that your presence here will be a deterrence?”
“No,” began Bracken, “we mean that if anyone turns up here to give you shit, we’ll take care of it.”
Suspicious by nature, she searched for what their angle might be here, but she came up with nothing. “Why would you do that?”
“The same reason you’re helping Andie,” said Zander. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Yeah? She wasn’t convinced. Plenty of people had known that saving her mother from her stepfather would be the right thing to do, but they still hadn’t done it. She’d learned that people preferred to look the other way. Shifters weren’t the exception.
“Here’s what I know about shifters,” she said. “You’re exclusive. Private. Insular. You avoid getting involved in other people’s business—even if those people are fellow shifters. Am I wrong?”
A muscle in Zander’s cheek ticked. “No.”
“Yet, you’re offering to help me when it could switch their attention onto you and, by extension, your pack. You’re offering to help a lone shifter even though she has no connection whatsoever to you. Nothing about this situation would benefit you or your pack in any way or make it worth any trouble that it could cause you. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why you’d care to involve yourselves.”
“Like I said, it’s the right thing to do.”
She narrowed her eyes at the note of offense in Zander’s tone . . . like she should feel guilty for believing he was anything less than honorable. “Don’t think I’m buying that open, harmless, easygoing act. You’re good at it, I’ll give you that, but I know a merciless predator when I see one. Merciless predators don’t help people for nothing, esp
ecially when they’re suspicious of them—and you are suspicious of me for some reason, I can sense it.” She tilted her head. “But then, you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who trusts anyone.”
More than a little discomforted—yet also begrudgingly impressed—by that very accurate assessment, Zander said, “You don’t strike me as the trusting type either.”
“I’m not. Right now, my gut’s telling me that you’re not being totally honest with me.”
Sensing that only the truth would gain him her cooperation, Zander said, “We know someone who’s been through a similar experience. The culprit got away with it. If someone had stood up for them the way you’re standing up for Andie, the end result might have been very different.”
For a long moment, Gwen said nothing. She wondered if he partially blamed himself for his friend not getting justice. If so, there was no self-recrimination in his tone. “The hearing doesn’t take place for another month. That’s four weeks.”
“I know how long a month is,” said Zander drily.
“Then you know it’s a lot of time to stay away from your pack. Surely you don’t want to spend all that time here.”
“It’s been a long time since we had a vacation,” said Bracken.
Sighing, she flicked back her bangs. “I’d need to speak to my family about your offer. I won’t make the decision for them.”
“Then talk to them.” Zander stepped aside as she walked out of the room, toward the stairs. “Gwen?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, brow raised in question.
“Don’t let your suspicious nature make you reject help. With the way things are, like it or not, you’re going to need it.”
Once she’d disappeared up the stairs, Bracken said, “She’s more perceptive than I gave her credit for.”
Zander nodded. She’d seen right through his act, but she hadn’t called him on it until now. He’d underestimated her. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“It surprised me that she didn’t jump at the chance of having our protection,” said Bracken. “Kind of makes me wonder if she was let down by another person who should have protected her. She relies on herself.”
“It’s possible.” More likely probable, really. Zander sank onto the sofa, on the exact spot where Gwen had been sitting. She called Julie her sister, but his nose told him they weren’t blood relatives. Also, Marlon wasn’t biologically related to either of the females or Yvonne. That meant these people were either Gwen’s foster family or adopted family. “We might as well wait here. Something tells me that Yvonne will be down here soon enough.”
It was a good twenty minutes before Yvonne finally entered the room, alone. She looked from Zander to Bracken as she spoke. “My Gwen says you’re offering to stay and help with the Brandt situation.” And she sounded no more trusting than Gwen had. “Why?”
“What kind of people would we be if we didn’t offer to help?” asked Bracken.
“Normal,” said Yvonne.
“We don’t know Andie,” began Bracken, “but she’s one of us—a shifter. She needs help, and the only person doing anything about that is Gwen. Your daughter could end up being the target of extremists, and believe me when I say they are not people whose attention you want.”
Yvonne rubbed her arm. “We’ve seen the things they’re capable of on CNN. I don’t understand that type of prejudice and brutality. As Gwen says, it’s all senseless. You think the Moores would contact the extremists and tell them what she’s doing so they’ll come after her?”
“Honestly, I doubt it,” replied Bracken. “Even other anti-shifter humans avoid the extremists now—they’re out of control. Plus, wherever the extremists are, The Movement soon follows.” The Movement was a group of shifters that had formed to retaliate against the extremists. “No one wants to be stuck in the middle of their ongoing battle. Still, it’s smart to envision the worst-case scenario so that you can be prepared for it.”
“What is it you want from her in exchange for your help?”
“Her cooperation would be good.” Bracken’s mouth curved. “She fought us on accepting our help.”
“My Gwen doesn’t trust easy. And she likes to take care of herself. She’s well liked around here by most people, so it’s rare that anyone bothers her. Especially since she has a paranoid eccentric for an uncle. But the Moores don’t care, and I doubt they’ll care if she has the protection of two shifters—they regard your species as inferior.”
“Yeah, we got that.”
“My concern is that your presence here could rile the Moores enough to make this worse for her. Brandt won’t back down; he’s scared of going before the shifter council. If your support does aggravate the situation, are you going to then disappear and leave her to bear the weight? Or will you stick by her until the end? Because if you can’t stick by her, you should stay out of the matter.”
She’s right, thought Zander. “We’ll be here for as long as the situation requires us to be.” And he meant it. Lack of empathy or not, he found himself wanting to help Gwen.
Leery of staying, his wolf released a low, disgruntled rumble—a tame response from his usually bold wolf who had no compunction about clawing the fuck out of Zander if he wasn’t getting his own way.
Yvonne gave them a slow nod of respect. “Then we’re in your debt.”
Leaning against the doorjamb, Zander watched as Gwen cleaned the newly vacated room. It wasn’t as spacious as his room, but it was just as warm and restful. He’d offered to help, but she’d politely declined his offer—and damn if that stiff politeness didn’t still grate on him.
Once Yvonne had agreed to let him and Bracken stay, Zander had tracked down Gwen to ask her some questions while Bracken took a shower. Unfortunately, Gwen wasn’t being very forthcoming. He got the sense that it was instinctual for her to keep her business private, and she was finding it difficult to push past that. He also got the sense that she liked keeping people at a distance.
“We can’t help if we don’t have the full picture, Gwen. Marlon said that the Moores have tried pretty much everything to make you back down. What exactly did he mean by that?”
Finishing stripping the linen from the duvet, she balled it up and dumped it in a basket. “At first, it was just dumb pranks. Egging my truck, toilet-papering the yard, and calling the house—sometimes no one would speak, other times a voice would threaten me to keep my mouth shut if I wanted an easy life. Once, he even snatched the clean laundry that was drying on the line and dumped it in the marsh. Another time, he left a dead skunk on the hood of my truck. He and his friends were watching from the other side of the lot, laughing. It was all juvenile shit.” Tugging off a pillowcase, she added, “But then, it got worse.”
“Worse how?”
She threw the pillowcase in the basket. “Someone emptied my bank account, canceled my cell phone contract, maxed out my credit cards—shit like that.” Gwen thought it was lucky she hadn’t kept much of her savings in the bank. Donnie taught them to hide their money, not to trust banks. If she hadn’t followed his paranoid advice, she’d have lost it all. “Of course, I can’t prove that the Moores had anything to do with it, but I know by the call I got from Brandt, passing on his sympathies to my situation, that his family was behind it.”
Bastards. “He ever assault you?”
The dark note in Zander’s tone made her look at him. “He came close to hitting me with a bat a few days ago when I stopped him from vandalizing my truck. Donnie scared him off.”
Zander bit back a growl. Even his wolf didn’t like that she’d almost been assaulted. “What did the Moores do to terrorize Andie?”
“Way worse stuff than they did to me. They threw bricks through her windows, spray-painted her house, slashed her tires, tried breaking into her home. Brandt and his friends always had alibis, but I doubt Colt would have acted even if they hadn’t claimed to have them.”
Zander watched her apply the fresh bed linen. She had very elegant hand
s. Pretty and smooth. Hands that would look so fucking good wrapped around his cock. Shoving that image out of his head, he asked, “I don’t foresee the Moores backing down at any point. You?”
“No, they won’t back down.” And neither would Gwen. “I had a thought earlier. I was wondering if . . .”
“If?” he prompted.
Gwen shook her head, deciding it wasn’t important. “Never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“No, really, forget it.”
Zander walked toward her. “Tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
But it did, because one thing that made Zander crazy was people not finishing their sentences. “What were you going to say?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she repeated.
“Will you just fucking tell me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.
“Not if you’re going to fucking swear at me. A woman is entitled to her own private thoughts, you know. If you really want to stick your nose in something, grab a book.” Done with the bedding, she lifted the basket of dirty linen. “I need to take this downstairs and then get to Half ’n’ Half. My shift starts soon.”
Zander rolled back his shoulders, shaking off his irritation. “Bracken and I will accompany you. We’ll eat and play pool while we wait.”
“None of the Moores will go there. Not only because Chase would throw them out, but because they wouldn’t want to be seen in a place so common.”
“They’re getting desperate. Desperate people do stupid things.”
Like turning up at my house drunk with a bat and cans of spray paint, she thought. “All right. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes. Be ready.”
Lure of Oblivion (Mercury Pack Book 3) Page 8
