by P. Jameson
Drake held the door open. “You coming?”
Blister started toward him. Stopped. Started again.
Damn it, he couldn’t leave her alone.
“Give me your keys,” he demanded.
Drake frowned. “Why?”
“Give me your fucking keys.” Blister held out his hand, not giving one damn about his alpha’s scowl.
Drake dropped them into his open palm and Blister darted through the downpour back to the truck.
“Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer. He just started the engine and backed out of the yard, spinning tires in the mud that had already accumulated.
It was a short drive to her house but it wasn’t quick by any means. Not with the wind howling and causing him to swerve through puddles. And the rain was so heavy Drake’s wipers hardly made a difference at all. Leaves and twigs littered the road and slapped the windows of the cab, but finally he made it to Annie’s house.
He’d been there once before. She didn’t know it. Neither did anyone else. It was his little secret. His wolf had wanted to see where the angel lived and wouldn’t let him settle until he complied. When he was satisfied that she lived in a well constructed home in a decent area of town, Blister was able to relax.
Rain fell in sheets as he stared at the house. There were no lights, but it could be that the electricity was out. A quick glance at the other houses in the area confirmed his suspicion.
Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure about the best way to approach her. Knocking on her door at eleven o’clock at night probably wasn’t the best idea, but staying in the truck wasn’t either. The wind rocked it precariously.
Fuck. His animal could sense the danger in the air. The air swirled with tension. It was time to take cover.
Hopefully Annie had gone to the shelter.
Blister got out of the truck, letting the rain pelt him as he ran around to the back of her lot. A branch smacked him in the head but he ignored it to peer through the darkness. He spotted the storm shelter several yards away, but as he started toward it, a small figure darted from the house, slipping and stumbling all the way to the cellar.
He called for her, but his voice was lost with the wind howling.
Blister was only halfway across the yard when she managed to get inside and shut the door.
He stopped, clenching his fists to dispel the adrenaline.
Well, okay. She was safe. He saw it with his own eyes. He should leave now.
But one look at the sky told him that wasn’t happening. It was ominous. A swirling mass that was only visible by the shot of electricity that lit everything, confusing night with day for a solitary second before turning it all black again.
Even if he made it back to the truck, he wouldn’t make it to the big house before this motherfucker hit.
He looked at Annie’s shelter. Damn it. It was a horrible option, but he had no other choice.
Blister ran, dodging fallen branches, until he reached the door of the shelter. She wouldn’t hear if he knocked, so he just yanked the thing open, hoping like hell he wouldn’t scare her too badly.
He hurried down the steps, securing the door as he went. Slowly, he turned around.
His angel sat huddled on a small bench, blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t look scared. Just surprised.
“Hi,” he said, glancing away. She was like the sun. You couldn’t look for too long.
“Hi.”
Silence stretched between them, with only the wind whistling and the rain pattering on the vent.
“You’re one of the dogs right? Blister?”
His chest tightened when she spoke his name. She knew who he was.
But of course she did. She was friends with Ella and Punk. She knew who all the dogs were.
“Yeah,” he grumbled, keeping his right side turned away. “Came to check on you, but the storm is too bad for me to get back to the club.”
“I don’t think we’ve officially met.” She smiled with her hand outstretched. “I’m Annie.”
What was she doing?
She looked pointedly at her own hand which hung between them like offering waiting to be accepted.
Wait… she wanted him to shake it? She wanted to touch him?
He couldn’t. No, she was too good and he couldn’t chance ruining her with even a small cordial touch. And his wolf wanted so much more than that.
Don’t touch her, do not touch her. He warned his animal, but the bastard wasn’t listening. The mere idea of learning what her skin felt like outside of the dream had him inching forward.
Blister turned toward the door, seriously considering chancing the drive back through town. “Storm should pass quickly. As soon as it’s clear, I’ll be on my way.”
Her small sigh echoed along the cement walls. It wasn’t a happy sound.
“Sorry about barging in like this,” he apologized. “I wasn’t planning on getting cornered here.”
“Did Ella send you? I tried to call her but couldn’t get through.” Her voice was deflated. Not how it was when he’d first arrived. “There’s no need for anyone to check up on me. I’m a big girl.”
He peeked over his shoulder. Big girl? She’d barely reach the middle of his chest if she was standing tall. She was tiny. Though deliciously curvy.
Blister squeezed his eyes to shut off the thought.
“Something like that,” he said under his breath.
Even underground, the roar of the storm was deafening and growing louder. Debris banged against the door, causing Blister to jump backward.
“Shit.”
He turned to look at Annie. Her brow was furrowed and she shivered in her blanket.
“It’s bad, isn’t it? I’ve never heard a storm that loud before.”
“It’s a tornado.”
She looked queasy before her eyes fell closed and she lowered her head to rest on her knees. But she only stayed like that for a moment. Lifting her head, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She nodded, her brow going up as she attempted a cheerful grin.
“Well, okay then. A tornado. It’s not that bad. That house was built to be sturdy. It’ll be fine.”
Blister stared at her. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell her otherwise.
“You might as well sit. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”
He looked around. It was cramped quarters. The only place to sit was the bench along one wall. Where she was. They’d be too close. Her scent was already all he could smell in the small space. Being right next to her would be torture.
Breathing deep, he let it soak in. It was like nothing he’d ever smelled before. Apples and lavender and something that didn’t have a name. Or couldn’t be named because it was just her. It was both unbearable and irresistible.
Blister sank to a seat on the floor, pulling his knees up and resting his arms there. He made sure to angle the damaged side of his face toward the wall. She’d already seen it, but the less she was reminded of it the better.
“Let’s see… are you hungry? Thirsty? I’ve packed this place with granola bars and water. Pretty sure there’s a bag of Doritos somewhere too. I’d much rather give my guests a home cooked meal but this is the best I can do without electricity.”
He lifted his gaze to catch her staring at him expectantly. Well, shit. He didn’t want anything from her, but he was hungry. When was the last time he’d eaten? And it was kind of her to offer when he’d just barged in here.
“Sure,” he answered.
Her face widened in a grin and she threw off her blanket, standing to rummage through a shelf.
Blister’s mouth went utterly fucking dry and his cock swelled to the point his pants were tight.
She… his angel had no pants on. Zero fucking pants. Her generous ass was barely covered in a pair of pale pink boy shorts. Her short, curvy legs were bare and smooth, and all he could do was envision those thick thighs wrapped around his head.
No.
He forced his gaze upward, but that sight wasn’t much better. Her threadbare t-shirt gave him too clear an idea of what her breasts looked like. And they were perfect.
“Where the hell are your pants?” Shock and frustration made is voice harsh.
Annie jumped, dropping the bag of chips on the floor. Her face went twelve shades of scarlet and her sweet little mouth opened in surprise. “I… I…” Her panicked gaze traveled the room, never finding what they were looking for.
“The blanket,” he barked. “Cover yourself.”
She glanced down at herself, biting her lip. Sighing, she calmly bent down to pick up the chips, grabbed a bottled water from the shelf and handed them to Blister. Then she picked up the throw and wrapped it around her body, securing it like a towel.
“I forgot,” she said quietly. “I forgot I didn’t have pants on. I ran out of the house in a hurry and…” A shrug finished off her explanation.
Blister uncapped the water and chugged the entire bottle down.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she muttered. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
He couldn’t answer her. Not without sounding harsh, and he didn’t want to scare her anymore. The way her scent had changed left him feeling bereft. Her essence had twisted into something foreign, something acrid. Something he’d caused.
“But since you’re here,” she said, her voice forcibly brighter. “Maybe we should get to know each other. I’ll go first. I’m Annie Redmond—but you already know that. I live in that big ‘ol house by myself because my parents are gone and my twin brother is… off in Texas finding himself. Red Cap is the family business, so I have to run it. But I kind of love doing it, because I get to cook. What else, what else… I grew up at the speedway. We were a racing family so you and I have that in common.”
Damn it, he didn’t want to know anything. He knew too much already. And he definitely didn’t want to tell her anything about himself, but if he didn’t, he had the feeling she’d keep talking.
“I’m Blister—but you already know that. I live in a tent in the woods on the back of the club’s property. All of my family is dead.” Damn it, not all of them. He had to quit thinking like that. “Except for Ella. I work in DTD’s shop. I like working on cars okay, but racing is better.” Racing gave him a thrill like nothing else. Reminded him he was alive. That the fire might’ve burnt him but it hadn’t killed him. And the oval was never scared of him no matter how much he ripped into it. No matter if he looked like a monster.
Monsters were welcome at the speedway. The track didn’t care what your face looked like or if you turned into a wolf to forget about your troubles. All that mattered was how you mastered your run, how you worked the crowd into a frenzy, and what place you finished. Get those three things right and they could overlook your scars. Even if they looked as grotesque as his did.
“Why do you live in a tent?” Her tone was genuinely curious. There was no ridicule in her question.
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I like being alone.”
Her features scrunched into a frown. “You do?”
Blister nodded.
She looked away, rubbing her arms as if she had a chill. When her gaze returned to him, it was with a small uneasy smile. “I sure don’t. I’ve never known anyone who liked to be alone.”
“Well now you do.”
Her smile faded. Shit, what did he say? He was trying to speak normally. This was exactly why he didn’t like making conversation.
Brow furrowed, he opened the bag of Doritos and shoved a few into his mouth. If it was full, he wouldn’t be expected to talk.
Thunder boomed and Annie let out a small yelp. His gaze jerked to her.
She stared with wide eyes the color of the sea. Damn it, would he ever get used to how breathtaking she was? Part of him wanted to take those heart shaped lips and press his against them. Tenderly, so he could feel how they contrasted, her softness with his blemish. He’d kiss her so carefully she wouldn’t notice his deformed mouth. Or if she did, she wouldn’t mind it. Maybe he could make her forget about it altogether.
But that was the part of himself he fought. And would keep fighting.
Unexpectedly, she started giggling. Almost as if she knew what he was contemplating, but she couldn’t hear his thoughts.
“I’m not usually so jumpy, I promise,” she said, between rounds of the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. God, her laugh. It was like the sun coming out after an everlasting night.
She took a deep breath and let it out slow. Leveling her gaze on him, she said, “This isn’t how I expected our first meeting to go.” She laughed again. “Sometimes you just have to find the humor in things, ya know?”
He didn’t know, but if she wanted to keep up with the giggling, he wasn’t going to complain.
She sighed and the sound was half sad, half hopeful. Rising from the bench, she came to sit next to him on the floor.
Blister stiffened. Too close, too close. He was fucking dying to touch her. Just one tiny brush of his finger against her skin. It would be enough to hold him over until…
Until what? Shit, this was going to be a problem forever. Until one of them moved away or… died. Things looked more hopeless than they had in a long, long time.
“Don’t worry,” she murmured, gesturing to the chip bag. “I’m just hungry. I thought we could share.”
Blister forced his brow to unfurl and pushed the bag toward her. He could do this. He could make it until the storm was over and then he’d go back to his place in the woods where he belonged.
Chapter Three
There’d been worse chemistry in the history of love affairs. Hadn’t there? Surely. She couldn’t think of any at the moment, but that was beside the point.
Annie leaned against the wall of the shelter, chewing a chip that tasted like crunchy styrofoam. Oh, who was she kidding? She and Blister weren’t connecting at all.
He wasn’t easy to talk to, which she’d already suspected. But she had no trouble keeping conversation with strangers. The fact that she couldn’t think of anything else to say was a testament to how bad they were together.
She snuck a peek at him. He looked absolutely miserable. The idea made her heart sink. Sure the storm was unfortunate, and clearly he’d drawn the short straw and had to check on her, but… he lived in a tent. How much worse was a storm shelter? The biggest difference was her. If he couldn’t stand being around her for this little bit of time, then there really wasn’t any hope for them.
The chip went from styrofoam to sawdust.
She’d been so sure if she could get him alone there’d be a connection. She’d misjudged everything.
It’s okay, it’s alright. Everything will be fine.
She just needed to get out of this dungeon and work. If she had something to do, something to keep her mind busy, things would be easier.
“What is it?” Blister’s harsh voice broke through her sadness.
She glanced at him. His brow was furrowed in confusion. She could only see part of his face for the way he was sitting. He always did that she noticed. Hide the side that was scarred.
“What is what?”
He stared at her lips as she spoke.
“You’re sad. Why?” he demanded.
She shook her head, attempting a smile. “I’m fine. Just worried about my house.”
It wasn’t a lie really. She was worried about the storm. But he didn’t look like he believed her.
“It’ll be over soon,” he said, his voice softer.
She nodded and shoved the rest of the chip in her mouth.
Yep, and when they walked out of this shelter that would be the end of her Blister fantasy. She’d close the door on that wish. She wouldn’t be one of those women who pined after a man that didn’t want her. She refused.
Somehow she got the chip down around the lump in her throat.
“You want some water?” he asked.
“No,
thank you.”
The roar of the storm had lessened but it still sounded too crazy to attempt to leave the safety of the cellar.
They spent the rest of the wait in silence. Annie was tired and she couldn’t bring herself to push the conversation. Blister sat stiffly beside her as they listened to the rain slow and the thunder become distant.
Just when she thought it was safe to open the door, a boom like one of those government crowd control things rattled the shelter.
“Shit,” Blister muttered. “Looks like there’s more.”
As if on cue, rain began battering the door.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take off. You could probably get back to the club before it gets bad.”
What she’d told him earlier was true. She was a grown-ass woman, as Punk would put it. Just because she didn’t want to be alone didn’t mean she was incapable of it.
He didn’t answer right away.
“What will you do?” he asked.
“Sleep,” she said, reaching for the extra blanket folded at the end of the bench. She was exhausted. Too tired to bother moving from the floor.
Using it as a pillow, she curled up right there on the floor. She’d just snooze until the storm was over.
***
Annie awoke to a careful pressure against her shoulder. She ignored it as long as she could, not wanting to face whatever awaited her outside the shelter. But the touch was persistent. And so gentle it gave her butterflies in her tummy.
“Wake up,” a hesitant voice whispered. It was Blister. She’d never heard him speak so softly.
His hand was hot on her shoulder, his thumb sweeping back and forth as if that would be enough to stir her. It was, but she wasn’t ready to be awake yet.
“Hey,” he tried again. “Angel, wake up.”
Angel? Did she hear him right?
She blinked awake, not able to hold back her smile. “Morning,” she murmured, staring up at his face. He was so handsome. His scars made him appear rugged, but she didn’t mind. They were beautiful. A sign that he’d come through some tragedy and made it out alive.
He blinked several times, the expression on his face void of its usual scowl. His mouth hung open ready to answer, but nothing came out.
