Hedging His Bets

by Mina Carter

  But, if he did get arrested, he sure as fuck hoped the usual scum were in there. He could do with pounding on someone to vent the rage that poured through his system like acid.

  Clouds rolled overhead, darkening as a storm rolled in. He ignored them, taking a left at the next intersection and riding away from town. For a second, he just wanted to keep on going, leave it all behind. He’d totally fucked up things with Honey. Even if Katie was still speaking to him, he sure as fuck doubted that’d continue after she talked with Honey.

  And he didn’t blame either of them.

  “Arrrggghhh!” The bellow of rage at his own stupidity burst from his lungs only to be swallowed by the storm as the heavens opened. Rain sleeted down, almost blinding him as he sped along the road. The asphalt was greasy as fuck, tires slipping when he hit a particularly wet stretch, but he didn’t care. Nor did he give a fuck about the rain battering him, slicing icy-hot furrows into his bared skin and soaking his pants. There was no way he could make things right.

  He deserved the pain, deserved to suffer.

  Half-blinded by a gust of wind that drove the rain right into his unprotected eyes, he didn’t slow as he roared toward the next intersection, riding by memory rather than sight. But memory couldn’t warn him about the station wagon hiding behind the broken-down barn. It couldn’t stop him when the car pulled out, and he was suddenly on top of the vehicle.

  “What th— Fuck!”

  He yanked the handlebars viciously, seeing the shocked faces of the occupants in his headlights while he tried to control the bike, guide it around the car and out of danger. But he was too late and not strong enough. The bike spun out of control, slipping sideways, tires squealing as they slid over the slick ground.

  Memories… Regrets… They all flitted through his mind as the station wagon seemed to grow upon his approach.

  The tires were near bald.

  Honey’s smile.

  There was a ding in the driver’s door.

  The touch of Honey’s hand stroking my quills.

  The front fender was crunched in.

  The last look of disgust that had crossed her features.

  And he’d never get to apologize. Never get to feel her skin beneath his palm. Never…

  “Honey, I’m sorry,” he whispered a second before he slammed into the side of the vehicle, sending his body flying over the hood and speeding toward the rain-soaked asphalt. He collided with the blacktop, bones snapping with the impact. The rough surface seemed to peel his skin from his body like an orange, chest and back abraded by the jagged ground. Before pain could assault him, the black of unconsciousness pushed through his mind and then he knew no more.

  Chapter Five

  Katy Perry woke her. Well, not Katy Perry. More like her friend Katie’s ringtone that happened to be a Katy Perry song.

  She kissed a girl…

  Well, Honey hadn’t actually…

  Cherry Chapstick?

  Ew. Lip balm was better. And, ugh. Didn’t Katie know she needed sleep?

  After her night with Blake, her eyes seemed glued shut, the salt from her dried tears coating her eyelashes. Then Katy Perry went on about how she liked kissing women.

  I’m not trying anything with girls. Not even Katie and she’s a cutie.

  Honey rubbed her eyelids, brushing away the crud that resulted from crying over the no-good hedgehog.

  It felt wrong?

  She snorted. Yeah, a lot of what had happened felt wrong.

  I don’t see how it could feel right, but, whatever.

  Sighing, she reached over and grabbed her cell phone, poking at the screen to answer the call before she placed it against her ear. “’lo?” She cleared her throat, pushing away the remnants of sleep. “Hello?”

  “Oh, thank God. Honey, it’s Blake.” The words were rushed, tense with worry.

  “What? Did he sneak into someone else’s house as an injured animal? Or think his female rescuer was ‘awake’ while he kissed her? Bit of a manwhore, isn’t he?” She couldn’t suppress the pain still lingering.

  “Oh, Honey…”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing back the tears gathering behind her lids. She’d cried enough. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Or him.”

  Katie was quiet for a moment and when she finally spoke her voice was soft, sad. “I know. But he was in an accident. We’re at County and… It’s bad, Honey. I don’t know…”

  Pain stole through her, searing her from inside out. Part of her, the part that was oh so angry, was happy the man had hurt himself. Happy that God had given him a taste of his own medicine. But the other half of her, the bit that still loved his lying ass, was filled with worry over his condition.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed her lingering heartache aside. “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

  She didn’t wait for a response, just pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call, unable to listen to her friend’s voice any longer, unwilling to hear the laundry list of injuries she was sure Blake had acquired. That damned bike. She knew he rode his motorcycle everywhere and… She tilted her head to the side… And it was raining like cats and dogs outside.

  Honey pushed from the bed and padded around her room. She tugged off her pajama top and slid on a bra before tugging it back into place once again. Not the most chic clothing in the world, but it covered her. She didn’t have to look pretty to see Blake.

  Checking the girls before she left the room, she gave them a little more food and ensured they had a full bottle of water. She strode through her small home, slipped on a pair of worn sneakers and then she was out the door. She thumped down the stairs, car keys jangling in her clenched fist as she jogged to her car.

  Within seconds, she was in her vehicle, heading to the hospital, Blake’s final words spinning through her mind. “I’m Norman…”

  Fucking man, werehedgehog, whatever. First he had to make her love him. Then he had to turn into a scheming, lying, adorable jerk. No, not adorable. She needed to hold onto the pain his lies caused. God, he’d attacked Caleb.

  Had Blake been jealous? No. Never. He’d been simply playing a game, toying with the chubby chick and making a fool of her.

  An all too familiar ache blossomed in her chest, memories of her past trying to break free, and she pushed them back behind the internal door. Blake had been an asshole. But that didn’t mean he was like some of the men who’d come before him. Nor could she simply cut him from her heart. She wanted Blake dead on her terms, not because of an accident.

  As she turned into the hospital’s parking lot, she shoved the idea of a dead-but-not-at-her-hand Blake aside and tore from her car, intent on reaching the emergency room. Three steps past the automatic doors and she was at the counter, lying through her teeth when she told the woman she was Blake’s sister.

  The nurse raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering to golden amber for the barest of moments. “Mr. Carlisle’s sister?”

  Honey licked her lips and forced her heart to calm. She knew the woman was a shifter, and there was no doubt that she could scent that Honey was unquestionably not Blake’s sister. “Yes. My friend Katie called me and I came as soon as I could.”

  Her response met silence, but finally the nurse relented, pushing a visitor’s badge across the counter. “Fine. Through those doors. Curtain five.”

  She didn’t hesitate. Snatching up the card and clipping it to her shirt, she headed toward the doors and pushed through them. The scent of antiseptic assaulted her senses, and she couldn’t even imagine how the shifters dealt with the stench.

  Honey counted the curtains, intent on reaching Blake. The worry wouldn’t recede until she saw him, saw for herself that he was okay. Saw that he’d live. Then she could kill him. Or kick him where it counted. And then she could move on. Find a guy who genuinely cared for her. Not loved her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Only a few feet separated her from Blake’s area, and she reached out, ready to thr
ust the curtain aside and see the truth for herself, but her name on his lips stalled her.

  “You called Honey.” The deep timbre of his voice was tinged with anger.

  Lovely. He didn’t want her there. She should turn around and slink home, nurse her wounds.

  “Of course I called her.” Katie’s tone was filled with annoyance, and her next words were barely a whisper. “She’s your mate and deserves to be here.”

  Mate? Right. No. She shook her head. She remembered what he’d said, but he wouldn’t have hurt her like that if what Katie said was true. She and Katie had talked about matings—her friend anxious to find hers—for years. Talked about the undeniable pull and the feeling of rightness. Blake would have never treated his mate the way he’d treated her. Never.

  “Not anymore.”

  Katie’s sigh was audible. “Of course she is.”

  “No, I fucked up any chance that she’d see me as anything but—”

  “Of course you did.” Katie’s “asshole” was implied. “I told you your plan wouldn’t work. I told you to be up front with her. But nooo, Blake knows what’s best.”

  Agony attacked Honey. Her friend had known about Blake?

  With the new information, her pain was chased away, and bone-deep anger took its place. She didn’t need them.

  The flutter and rattle of the curtain caused her to jerk in surprise, and then another voice intruded on Katie and Blake. “Mr. Carlisle, I’m Doctor O’Meghan. I’ve got your test results here…”

  Honey didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to let the laundry list of injuries override her heartache and brush away her rage. She spun on her heel, anxious to be away from the hospital and ensconced in her bedroom, hiding from the night’s events.

  She managed to make it to the nurse’s station. She slapped the guest pass onto the counter, more than ready to be gone from the building.

  Only Katie’s voice stalled her escape. “Honey?”

  Gritting her teeth, she turned toward her friend. Her ex-friend. “What?”

  “Aren’t you going to see Blake?” She gestured behind her, waving her hand in his general direction.

  “Why?” She couldn’t hide her annoyance. “So he can trick me again? Make fun of the fluffy chick?” She shook her head. “No. I’m done. I hope Blake is going to be okay, but it was a mistake to come here.”

  Katie grimaced. “Honey, it wasn’t like that.”

  “You two didn’t plan to trick me, then? Didn’t plan for me to find an injured hedgehog that I’d take home? Didn’t plan for Blake to try and seduce me while I was half asleep?” Honey dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “I heard you just now. You two worked together, and I’m his supposed ‘mate’.” She barked out a laugh. “Right. How could the two of you even think that I’m meant for Blake?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. A supposed ‘mate’ wouldn’t have hurt me like he did.”

  Suddenly Katie was there, hand wrapped around Honey’s wrist and yanking her forward, through the doors, and back to Blake’s area. She fought the woman with every step, quietly pulling and tugging against her friend’s hold as she drew her along.

  Then the curtain was flung aside to reveal a prone Blake with a man in a white coat leaning over him. Blake’s left arm and right leg were wrapped in casts while gauze covered a good bit of his chest, and his face was bruised and battered.

  “Beat feet, doc.” Katie’s words were clipped, each syllable forced through visibly clenched teeth.

  The doctor jerked, but didn’t move until Blake nodded. With the three of them relatively alone, Katie shoved Honey forward until she was pressed against the edge of the bed.

  “You,” Katie pointed at Blake. “Spill it. All of it. No holding back. No being evasive. None of your macho-I-have-a-big-dick-and-balls attitude. You want her, the only way to get her is to stop being such a prick.”

  Katie turned and stared at Honey. “You are beautiful and special and kind and deserve to be happy. And he can make you happy. You deserve him. But sometimes you have to make allowances because he’s a dickhead. Just don’t make it easy on him.”

  With those last words, Katie was gone, disappearing in a flutter of hospital curtains.

  Then Honey was alone with Blake. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  *

  He was going to kill Katie.

  Right after he kissed her for bringing Honey to the hospital.

  Blake swallowed, the movement painful with the abrasions over his throat, and lifted his head to look at her. She looked gorgeous, even in her PJ’s with bed-head. To him, she looked fantastic.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he started, then saw the stubbornness flow over her features. He shot a hand out to wrap his fingers around her wrist to stop her from escaping.

  “No, not like that. I want you here…but I don’t deserve that you’re here,” he said honestly, trying to convey how sorry he was in his voice and expression.

  She didn’t say anything, the silence freaking Blake out almost as much as her words before she’d thrown him out. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Why hadn’t he fucking waited until she was awake? Made sure she was conscious?

  He took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain in his chest. He’d listened to the catalogue of injuries the doctor had reeled off absently. He was still breathing, so they weren’t that serious. They’d have to be to kill a shifter.

  Dammit, he felt so pathetic lying here. Struggling to sit up, he lost his grip on her wrist. The look she shot him warned him against trying to touch her again.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry…” He gave up trying to look manly, and talked. As soon as the first words were out of his mouth, it was like the dam had burst. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t realize you weren’t awake. You answered me and everything and you were so beautiful laying there. I honestly thought you were aware, I swear.”

  Her face was set, luscious lips in a thin disapproving line. Crap. It wasn’t working. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. In one day, he’d managed to fuck everything up with Honey so thoroughly that he was surprised she hadn’t already left.

  As soon as he thought it, another wave of guilt washed over him.

  Fuck. He was going to be sick. Or cry. Oh fuck, crying was so not manly. But what did it matter now? What good had the bullshit macho act done but hurt the woman who meant the most to him in the world? He gave up trying, his voice thick as he looked up at Honey.

  “I love you.” There, the three little words all women said they wanted to hear and that most men had a mental block about saying. “I always have, Honey. I was just too much of an idiot to come out, and say it. You weren’t awake, I get that. Part of me is so fucking sorry. But another part of me can’t regret kissing you. I can only regret the circumstances.”

  She just looked at him. Lips pursed, unbelieving expression in her eyes.

  Fuck.

  At least she was still at his side. He hung onto that one hope as he ignored the pain in his battered body and sat up, dropping his feet to the floor so he could face her. At least, if she was going to leave him, he was half on his feet to take it. The sheet made a dash for the tile, but he grabbed it. His clothes hadn’t survived the crash, and the last thing he wanted to do was flash Honey. Not now.

  He’d be lucky if he ever saw her again. Hell, she’d probably get a restraining order to make it illegal for him to get within five hundred feet of her. He didn’t need to add a charge of indecent exposure.

  “I’m an ass, Honey. I’ve hurt you, and Katie by involving her in all this, and I’m sorry.” There, the words were out. Blake looked down at his hands. They shook. “Thank you for coming, I know Katie made you, but thank you anyway. I’ll keep my distance. I’ll leave. Just… I know I have no right, but would you just do one thing for me…”

  Her silence spoke louder than words. His heart broke as he accepted the inevitable. He couldn’t fix this. Nothing could f
ix this. He daren’t look up, didn’t want to see the look of distrust and contempt in her eyes before she turned and walked away from him.

  “Look after Katie for me.”

  *

  Blake was such a stupid, manipulative, over bearing, drop-dead-gorgeous asshole.

  That she loved.

  Damn it.

  Lines of pain etched his features, crowded by pure heartache and agony that she didn’t think had anything to do with his accident.

  He looked like a kicked puppy, er, hedgehog.

  She shook her head, trying to decide if she could believe his words.

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about you, Blake.”

  It was the truth. What could she do with a battered and bruised werehedgehog who’d deceived her for days yet professed his love?

  “You don’t have to do anything.” His voice was scratched, and she imagined the road rash and swelling on his neck had a lot to do with that.

  She didn’t need another reason to pity the stupid man. But she did. He looked so forlorn and beaten down, and part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him, give him comfort.

  She sighed. She hated that she loved him. A little. Maybe. Okay, she’d get over her mad, probably soon, and then she’d let her love shine bright.

  “You can go if you want. I don’t blame you.”

  Honey narrowed her eyes. “And who’s gonna haul your massive ass home? Take care of you?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll find someone to come get me. I’ll be fine at home.”

  “And you can take care of yourself with a broken leg and arm? Really?”

  “Weres—”

  She held up her hand to silence him. “I’m still mad at you. Mad as hell. But I’m taking you home. You can,” she swallowed and licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry. “You can stay with me. You have been anyway. It’ll make it easier to ensure you’re okay.”

  She didn’t add that she’d worry herself sick if he were left alone. Just like the wounded “Norman,” she couldn’t leave Blake to recover alone.