by T. S. Joyce
Even hurt and angry, Grey had walked her home.
Chapter Seven
Be brave. For once, be fucking brave.
Gen lifted her fist and knocked on the door. She had no idea how loud it was, but she did it hard so Benson Saber would be sure to hear it if he was inside.
The blond-haired, blue-eyed, pissed-off looking alpha yanked the door open before she even got the third wrap out. She startled hard and took a step back, averted her eyes, and exposed her neck like Sean had liked her to do.
There was a little boy, about six, peeking around his legs. He looked like his dad and smiled shyly before he wiggled his little fingers in a wave. Gen tried to smile, but it probably looked like a lip tremble. Be brave.
She exhaled a shaky breath and handed Ben the note she’d written. He waited two seconds too long to be polite before he yanked it out of her hand and unfolded it.
Gen imagined the words as he read it.
I want to ask Greyson out on a date. I’m not trying to cause trouble for your crew. I only want to find my place, and I don’t want to leave until I rule these mountains out.
When she dared a look at his face, he was staring back at her. Oh, his eyes were still full of sternness, but his jaw had loosened from his earlier agitation. Ben reached behind him and cupped his son’s head as he leaned on the open doorframe. Panthers seemed affectionate. She didn’t know much about them, but she’d been watching today out the window of 1010. The mated pairs were always touching, but the males in the crew did, too. They gave quick hugs as they passed, or choreographed handshakes, or they rubbed shoulders.
There was one who felt off to her. Barret felt like he was maybe sick in his head, but he seemed to settle right down when he rubbed his cheek against one of the other males as they embraced.
Gorillas weren’t like this. It confused her.
“Are you in trouble?” Benson asked.
She didn’t know how to answer. Torren was trying to take care of the trouble that followed her, but she still had six days before he would call and tell her everything was okay. Maybe.
Benson looked down at his cub and bit his bottom lip. After a few moments, he asked, “Will you put my crew in danger?”
Shit. Well, she couldn’t lie. She couldn’t say for sure her old family group wouldn’t come after her. Sean was like that. If he couldn’t keep a female, he didn’t want anyone else having her either. It was a silverback thing, and Gen had run in the middle of the night. So in answer she shrugged in an I-don’t-know gesture.
Benson’s eyes flashed gold and then back to blue again. “Why did you come after me when I was fighting Greyson?”
She wanted to tell him by using ASL. She wanted to do the explanation justice. Wanted to make him understand so he would let her stay, but he didn’t understand sign language.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed out a response as fast as she could so he wouldn’t lose any more patience with her. He has been kind to me. He feels important, but I don’t know why. When I saw you fighting him, it felt like my fault and I didn’t want him to be hurt. I don’t know him well, but I know this…he would protect me too. I don’t have anywhere else to go.
And then she handed the alpha the phone and waited for him to finish reading.
“You could go back to Damon’s Mountains,” he said.
She couldn’t get into why Kong, her father, couldn’t get involved in gorilla politics. He’d fought so hard to be free of them, and he was outside of Damon’s Mountains, the silverback of a small family group that included her mother and grandmother. He was a marked silverback, like Torren, with a long birthmark down his back that said he was supposed to be running the biggest and most powerful family group of gorilla shifters. Dad was happy, and could keep his quiet life as long as he stayed out of the gorilla world. If she involved him, he could lose everything. For her family’s protection, she needed to find sanctuary away from Damon’s Mountains. How did she explain that to Benson Saber, though? He was a panther and didn’t understand gorilla culture. So she shook her head and shrugged. I. Just. Can’t.
“That’s not good enough for me. You can stay through the night, but tomorrow morning, I want you gone. It’s nothing personal, Gen. I know who your father is. I respect him. But you could put my crew in danger, and we’re up to our teeth in potential war as it is. I can’t pick a fight with the gorillas right now. I wish you luck finding a place, but it’s not here.”
That last sentence felt like a punch in the gut.
Her place was nowhere. She’d left Dad’s family group for a bigger one with a silverback who had tricked her. She hadn’t ever belonged there, and now she was out in the world, spinning her wheels. And not only that, but the thought of leaving Grey made her stomach hurt. No, she didn’t understand why. She didn’t know him other than what she’d gathered in their small time together, but still, her eyes burned at the thought she would never get to know more of him.
Be brave.
She nodded jerkily and took her phone from his hand. Without looking back, she made her way to 1010.
Grey hadn’t come back. She’d watched for him, but he was still in the woods, and she couldn’t just sit in the trailer all cooped up. On the inside, she felt volatile and unhappy, and she didn’t want to be around Eden or Jaxon like this. Laundry still needed to be done, even if she was kicked out of Red Havoc territory, so she tossed her clothes into a trash bag from under the sink and shoved the two other potential mate information sheets into her purse. Bangaboarlander had given her three options, but she’d stopped looking after she’d read Grey’s sheet. Something about him had drawn her here to the Appalachian Mountains. She believed in signs, believed in the power of instincts, and she’d owed it to herself to see why the words on a paper made the tightness in her chest ease, even if just a little bit.
Feeling at her lowest, she got into her Mustang and pulled away from the cabins, watching them disappear in her rearview. Tomorrow she would leave before dawn so she didn’t have to say goodbyes. In the darkness, it would look different from the row of quaint cabins sitting in the shadow of two mountains behind them, surrounded by lush, green woods. This could’ve been her place. She could’ve settled in a simple home like this. It reminded her of the mountains she grew up in, but here, Ben was king of Red Havoc, and she was an outsider. Always an outsider.
The entire half hour drive to town, her thoughts stayed melancholy and frustrated. Covington, Virginia was tiny and only had one laundromat, right on the main drag, so it was easy enough to find. And thank goodness for small blessings, because Gen was distracted enough to get turned around easily on the unfamiliar roads. After parking, she fed dollars into the change machine inside, bought detergent packets, and sorted her clothes into two washers. The place was cute. It had daffodil-yellow walls and wainscoting. Usually the laundromats she used were a sterile white with dingy tiles and dust bunnies everywhere, but the lady at the front desk seemed to really love and care for her little business. She chatted with anyone who came close, and even gave a coloring book to a three-year-old girl who was running up and down the two aisles and stressing her mother out.
Unable to help herself, Gen smiled every time the little girl passed, who was clutching her coloring book and a three-pack of crayons as she ran. Gen wanted kids, but hadn’t wanted them with Sean. Being in a big family group was so different than she’d imagined it would be. She’d grown up outside of Damon’s Mountains, looking in and wishing she could be a part of a big crew like that. So, a big family group of gorillas was the dream growing up. She’d thought it would be fulfilling contributing to a community, and her gorilla had craved being coveted by a silverback. But within two weeks of pledging to Sean and his family group, she realized how wrong she’d been to join. Gorillas weren’t like the shifters in Damon’s Mountains. They were cutthroat, competitive, and brutal to weak links, like her. Because of her disability, she’d been shoved to the bottom of the group on day one, and the family gro
up had made a constant game of putting her in her place.
In the laundromat, there was an older couple sitting together in the corner, laughing over a story the woman was telling. There was a man with a beer gut and a shirt that read It’s five o’clock some-bear with a cartoon grizzly drinking out of a pitcher. The man was leaned back in his chair, most likely snoring from the look of his wide-open mouth, as his clothes tumbled on in the dryer in front of him.
Gen had always liked people watching. Good thing too, since talking to people was hard. Usually when they figured out she was deaf, they looked uncomfortable and moved away, so somewhere along the way, she’d stopped trying to converse.
There was another thirty minutes left on her clothes before she could move them to the dryer, so she pulled out the two information sheets from Bangaboarlander. The first one was about a thirty-year-old boar shifter named Jeremy Gordon. Still lived in the same town as his parents, wanted three piglets, liked steak and potatoes, and worked a nine-to-five, didn’t like sweets, or booze, or curse words. It was like Willa had tried to make him sound boring.
Gen looked up as she flipped the page, and a familiar silhouette grabbed her attention. Greyson was standing across the street, a bag dangling from his hand as he talked to a pair of giants she didn’t recognize. One had bright gold eyes and claw scars down his face.
Slowly, she stood and made her way to the large window in front. Those weren’t Red Havoc Panthers, though she would bet her boots they were big cat shifters. Tigers, or lions perhaps. She dipped her attention to the scar-faced man’s lips and began to read his words as best she could.
If you don’t, you know what’ll happen. I’m losing my patience, and we’re ready something something retaliation. Cut us in or we expand our territory.
Greyson’s back was to her, so she couldn’t read his part of the conversation, but from the tension in his shoulders and the aggressive gesture with his hand, he wasn’t happy. Scarface was talking again, but Greyson shook his head hard, spun, and jogged across the street, giving both the shifters his back as he headed straight her way. He looked pissed, eyes so gold they were almost yellow, teeth gritted so hard his jaw muscles bulged. His fists were clenched, every muscle flexed. He ran one hand back and forth over his hair, spiking it up in all directions. Still looked sexy, though. He was muttering something that looked like “stupid mother fuckers,” but she could’ve been wrong on account of how tight he kept his lips when he talked.
Grey hopped on the sidewalk and looked up, locking eyes directly with hers. He jerked to a stop, and the anger disappeared from his face, replaced with shock. “Gen?”
Busted spying on him, she gave him a tiny wave while her cheeks caught fire.
Grey ran his hand down his beard and tossed a glance back over his shoulder, but the big cat shifters had walked away. Grey strode gracefully to the laundromat and pulled open the door.
“Hi,” he said, approaching slowly, head canted and neck exposed slightly.
He was angry, she could smell it coming off him in waves, but he was still being sensitive to her submissiveness. Oh, she liked him.
“Oh wait.” He frowned and made a clumsy sign for hello in ASL.
Gen couldn’t help the giant grin that stretched her face as she signed the same back to him.
“Um, you look pretty.” Grey shrugged and stared out the window, then tried again. “You look good today with your hair all shiny in the sun, and your nails have pink sparkles on them, and your eyes are a pretty color. Blue. I like your”—he gestured to her boobs—“shirt.”
She laughed with noise, could feel the vibration, but got embarrassed when he stared at her lips, so she swallowed the sound back down.
“I like your laugh.” His shoulders lifted and fell in a sigh, and he looked at the ceiling as if searching for inspiration. Was he blushing, too? “I wish I could sign and understand you.”
Me too, she mouthed with a sad smile.
“I have a phone number. Do you?” He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. It had a black case, so she pointed to it and showed him her pink sparkly case. Opposites.
“I like black. It’s my favorite color.”
Pink, she mouthed through a smile.
“Girly girl?”
She nodded and showed him that her phone case matched her nails.
“You do good”—he pointed to her eyes—“make-up shit.”
She almost laughed with noise again. She pulled his phone gently from his hand, typed in her number, and saved it as BangaGen.
When he laughed, the smile fell from her face with how badly she wished she could hear the sound of his voice. He texted her, Hi BangaGen. It’s BangaGrey.
His blue eyes were dancing when she looked back up at him, and he’d taken a step closer to her.
She texted him, I like doing make-up. Not just on me. I mean for a job. I do make-up and hair. Look. Send. She pointed to her false eyelashes and then texted, These aren’t real. I do make-up for girls going to dances in high school and for brides, stuff like that.
Grey was smiling really big now. When he took another step closer, their phones almost touched he was so near her. He typed out, And you like sparkles?
A lot, she mouthed. Is that a deal breaker?
He shook his head, eyes crinkling in the corners with his smile. “No. I think it’s cute.” There was a vintage soda machine in the corner, and he gestured to it and arched his blond brows in question.
She nodded, so he turned and led the way. They were glass bottles, and she chose an orange soda. He bought the same for himself and popped the caps, then tinked the neck of his bottle against hers in silent cheers. Always silent cheers. She wouldn’t remember the sound of their first toast, but she would remember the vibration of it moving through her hand and up into her arm.
She gestured to the bag in his hand. The logo was of the Covington Bookstore. Grey shocked her to her core as he pressed his fingertips on her lower back and guided her toward a pair of empty chairs. Warmth spread from where he touched her, which made no sense because the fabric of her shirt separated their skin. In her stomach, there was a strange fluttering sensation. It was excitement mixed with growing feelings for the man who was now sitting down beside her. A part of her wished he would still touch her, and she didn’t know how to flirt, so she took a risk and rested her hand on his thigh. He tensed for a moment, but his smile said he didn’t mind, so she crossed her legs and left her hand right where it was because it felt comfortable and right. It had been a long damn time since anything had felt right.
You do make-up and I work weekend nights at a bar. Friday through Sunday night, I’m there until three in the morning. Sometimes later if I have to get the drunks home. And I deliver moonshine during the week. The real stuff, not the kind you buy at the liquor store. Are you a good girly girl? He didn’t send that one, just showed her his phone.
She responded on her phone. Oh, I’m definitely a bad girl. I got a C once in school, I snuck out of my house twice when I was sixteen, and I drank two screwdrivers before I turned twenty-one. She showed him the message and beamed when he laughed reading it.
We are opposites, he typed into his phone. I wonder why Willa only gave us one option…
I got three. She showed him the message and then pulled the two pages from her purse.
On Grey’s lips, the smile disappeared as if it never existed. His blond brows furrowed as he read her other options. And when he was done, he folded them carefully and tucked them back in her purse. His eyes were a muddy color, between blue and gold, and he bit his bottom lip as he watched a nearby dryer tumbling someone’s load of towels.
She wished she could fix the moment she’d ruined, but right when she started typing out her apology, he turned to her and asked, “Do you want to go to lunch with me?”
Gen was shocked into stillness, and he repeated, forming the words slower. “Do you want to go to lunch with me?”
Like a date? she typed out on her phone
.
Grey nodded.
Every fiber of her being wanted to say yes but… Ben said I have to leave by the morning, she mouthed.
“Let me take care of Ben.”
She shook her head hard and typed, I asked if I could keep you for a little while, just to see, and he gave me a hard no. I have to leave.
Grey brushed her jaw with his knuckle, drawing her face toward his. Eyes locked on hers, he asked again, “Do you want to go to lunch with me?”
Yes.
The corner of his lips turned up in a smile. “Good. How do I sign that? Because this” —he pulled a book on ASL from the bookstore bag—“is really hard to follow.”
Stunned, Gen took the book from his hands and dragged her fingertip down the spine. He’d bought a book to learn how to talk to her? In the year she’d lived in Sean’s family group, he hadn’t learned a single sign. And here was Grey, day two of knowing him, and he was already working to talk to her, on her level, not forcing her to read his lips forever.
Without thinking, she pulled his big calloused hand up to her cheek and rested against his touch, closing her eyes for a few moments just to enjoy the warmth of his skin against hers. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring at her face with a soft look that made her stomach flutter again. He rubbed his thumb right under her eye, and for a moment, she thought he would kiss her, right here in front of everyone in the laundromat. The old Gen would’ve balked and become embarrassed with public displays of affection. But right now, she wanted his lips against hers more than she’d ever wanted anything.
Instead of kissing her though, Grey said slowly, “I thought gorillas weren’t affectionate.”
Gen shrugged. Maybe watching the panthers be so affectionate with each other earlier today had made her hungry for touch. Or perhaps it was Grey’s inner panther calling to her loving instincts. Or perhaps she was a broken gorilla in lots of ways.
“Today, when you charged into my fight with Ben…” He cocked an eyebrow and pulled his hand away from her face. “You can’t do that again. We weren’t finished, and I had to pull out of that fight so you wouldn’t get hurt. Ben’s still mad. We didn’t work through my punishment. That being said, seeing you charge in there to help me…” His lip snarled up, and he suddenly looked hungry. He leveled her with a look and gripped the back of her neck. “You’re. So. Fucking. Sexy.”
