Bad Wolf

by Jo Raven

  Fucking tools. I’d be more lenient, but lack of sleep is getting to me. My eyes are itchy, my skin feels stretched too tight over my bones, and my brain is sluggish. Next, hallucinations, if memory serves—this isn’t my first encounter with insomnia. Boy, so looking forward to that.

  And on top of the exhaustion, I’ve got to work, and Zane’s on my back to take on my first solo ink. Under his watchful eye, I’ve completed parts of tats on real skin, but doing it all on my own…

  Dammit.

  The key drops from my fingers, and I bend to get it. When I straighten, someone is standing right in front of me, and I jerk back.

  What the hell, why the fuck should I be hallucinating Seth standing there with a dark frown on his face?

  “Hey,” Seth says, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “Um. Whatcha doing here this early, J?”

  “Oh, you know.” I straighten, key clutched in my hand, digging into my palm, my mouth on autopilot. “I like to come in early and jerk off on the reception desk.”

  The hallucination in the form of Seth lifts a dark brow but doesn’t look too impressed. Damn. I have to try harder.

  “Have you ever noticed how Zane’s tattoo gun looks like a dildo?” I wag the key at Seth. “Have you ever thought to try—?”

  “No.” The Seth hallucination winces. “No, dude. Seriously?”

  “No, not seriously.” I sigh, try the key again, and, miracle of miracles, it slides into the lock. “What do you think? It’s my cleaning shift.”

  “No, actually, it’s not.” He follows me inside.

  “Come again?” I stop in my tracks.

  “Man, yours is tomorrow. Hate to tell you this, but today’s mine. You came over here for nothing.”

  Oh, Jesus Fuck. “You serious right now?”

  “Yep. Sorry, J. Not that I wouldn’t mind swapping with you, but after my shift at the movie theater tonight, I plan on getting hammered and will need tomorrow morning to recover.”

  “What’s tonight? Fuck.” I kick at the carpet and jam my hands into my jeans pockets. I wander inside, following Seth. “Can’t believe this.”

  Although, okay yeah, I’m tired. My memory’s shot. Should’ve seen this coming.

  “Hey, Seth?” I sink into one of the ugly-ass orange easy chairs beside the reception desk and rub my eyes. Amber’s face flashes behind my eyelids, I hear her laugh in my mind, and God, I just wish I could be pressed to her right now. She’d feel so good, I think—and how fucked up is it that she’s stuck on my mind? I blink, the shop returning around me. “About tonight, you said—”

  I shoot to my feet. “Damn, are you okay? Seth!”

  “Fuck.” He’s hunched over, clutching his shoulder, his face twisted in a grimace.

  I’m by his side in two long strides. “What the hell’s wrong?”

  He hisses out a breath and slowly straightens. “I’m okay.”

  “Fuck that, a blind man can see you’re not fucking okay. Is that the shoulder you dislocated?”

  Dislocated when Evangeline’s psychotic ex, Blake, found a way to get back to her by using her friends as punching bags.

  He nods and lets me steer him to the stool inside Zane’s workstation. “It’ll pass.”

  “You shouldn’t force it, man. Did the doctor clear you to mop and sweep?”

  He shrugs, then groans and curses.

  Right.

  “What about your ribs? And the kidney bruising? Did you get checked?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” He starts to get up, scowling at the tattoo shop in general. “It’s just the shoulder. Doc said it might hurt for a while longer.”

  “Listen.” I let him get up, then grab him by the shoulders, making him yelp, and steer him toward the ugly orange chairs. “You sit there now.”

  “What the hell are you doing, J?”

  “Your shoulder hurts. Mine doesn’t. I’m here, and I got nothing to do. I’m too tired to argue about this, so don’t say anything, okay? I’ll clean.”

  “But tomorrow—”

  “Yeah, I know. Tomorrow, too. Rest that shoulder, d’you hear me? Dr. J’s orders.”

  “Dr. J, huh?” He snorts but doesn’t resist when I push him down into the chair and go look for the mop, which tells me he has to be in a fair amount of pain, even if he doesn’t admit to it.

  Damn. He should tell Zane about it, but knowing how annoying Zane can be when he hovers, I understand why he hasn’t.

  “Dr. J, you coming tonight, right?” Seth asks after a while.

  “Tonight.” I dig through my stagnant memory for clues. Nothing comes up. “What’s tonight? Was I invited?”

  “It’s guys’ night out. Beer and pool. Damn right you were invited.”

  About to tell him to screw the beer and pool night because I’m not in the fucking mood, I hesitate.

  Might as well go, I think as I fill up the bucket and carry it back to the main area of the shop. Sleep is impossible with Travis banging random chicks until the walls shake, Gage and his buddies hammered and yelling at each other, and Alex… well Alex is quiet, but hell, the other two are enough.

  Might as well get shitfaced. Then at least I know I’ll pass out till morning.

  Halo, the gang’s favorite hang-out, is packed for a Tuesday night. It’s also warm and stuffy inside, the smell of too many breaths and sweat steeped in alcohol overpowering the reek of fried fish tacos that clings to my clothes and skin.

  It’s late, and I don’t feel like swinging by the apartment to change. Just wanna say hi to the guys, get a few beers in, head back and hit the sack.

  I spot Ocean’s head of blue hair at the back and head that way, pushing through the crowd. Loud music spills from the speakers. It’s rock. Celtic rock, I decide, as I skirt a table with a rowdy group, barely avoiding a guy’s fist as he swings it to give a friendly punch to his friend. At least I hope it’s friendly.

  Maybe it’s a theme evening, and I missed the memo.

  Like I missed the fact that today is Tuesday, and not Wednesday, and ended up working both. Dammit.

  Though, have to admit, reaching the back of the bar and seeing Seth planted on a stool sipping at his beer and smiling, no trace of discomfort on his face, makes me glad I did. I hate seeing the people around me in pain, and hell, I’d take over the motherfucker’s shift any day if it means he’s going to rest his damn shoulder and come through fine in the end.

  Ocean raises his beer at me, grinning like a jackal. “J, you made it.”

  Obviously. I’m here, aren’t I? I nod at him and mellow down when he shoves a chilled bottle into my hand. “Hey, Shun.”

  He laughs. “My brother used to call me that.”

  I lift a brow. “Didn’t know you had a brother.”

  Ocean’s eyes are a light color—blue or gray, I never paid much attention—but now they darken and flatten, turning into polished stone.

  “Yeah, well.” He takes a long swig from his beer, his tone inscrutable. “I wish I could forget I have one, too.”

  Whoa. I don’t have siblings—that I know of, at least—and the brothers I know, like Asher and Tyler, would literally die for each other. Seth and Shane, who granted, are cousins, not brothers, look out for each other. And, hell, although my adopted brothers of Damage Control are sometimes a royal pain in the ass, we get along just fine.

  Doesn’t take a genius to realize Ocean’s relationship with his bro isn’t all sunshine and roses, and his stony expression tells me he isn’t too keen on talking about it, either.

  I shrug to myself and take a gulp from my beer. It slides, cool and soothing, down my throat, and I make a show of watching the pool game happening a few feet away—Shane vs. Micah—while my mind whirls away to something Megan told me today, at work, when we were talking about Audrey and Asher’s upcoming wedding.

  Normally I wouldn’t have paid much attention. My attention is scattered on the best of days, and today I’m running on fumes. But it was about Amber, because I mentioned she was invited,
too, and I can remember what Megan said, word for word.

  “Your girl. She’s something special.”

  That was it. Then a flood of customers interrupted her impromptu analysis of Amber, and I’d spent the afternoon running up and down without a moment to wind down. And then I did the same for another four hours at the taco joint.

  No wonder I’m dead on my feet and my brain is rattling loose.

  Your girl, though. That’s what caught my attention.

  Not that Amber isn’t special. I wouldn’t know, of course, I hardly know her, but she feels special. Shy or not, girl has strength. When I tease her, she looks me in the eye and answers right back. Teases back, despite admitting she got bullied in the past.

  Girl hates social events and wears mismatched pajamas. She likes to pull her long hair up, but when it’s down she looks like a sex goddess, and I…

  Christ, I should stop thinking about her all the damn time.

  “Hey, man.” Micah claps me on the back. “So cool you made it.” He turns back to the nearby pool table where Shane is obviously kicking his ass.

  “Ev not here?” I ask, stepping closer to watch Shane take aim with his cue and shoot yet another ball down.

  “She may pass by later.” The grin he flashes me is so fucking big I want to laugh. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I cover it up with another gulp from my beer. “Hey, just wondering, you know… Her ex-boyfriend hasn’t shown up again, sniffing around, has he?”

  “No. Why you asking?”

  “Nada. Just curious.” And seeing Seth in pain brought it all back—the phone call I got from him, his slurred, gasping voice asking me for help, finding him beaten up and bleeding on the sidewalk… Yeah, I was the one who found him. No wonder I feel kinda responsible for his recovery.

  “Talking of chicks…” Shane shakes back his dark mane and winks, then glances over his shoulder.

  What the fuck is he doing? And who’s talking of chicks anyway?

  Then I see her.

  Not Amber, unfortunately. God knows I’ve pictured her so often in my mind’s eye lately that I wouldn’t be surprised to see her appear out of thin smoke. No, this girl is blond and curvier. Pretty, I guess.

  “Cassie,” Seth says, and there’s a strange note in his voice that makes me turn to look at him. Only he hides his expression by taking a long swig from his beer—an old trick—and before I have time to analyze it, based on my expertise on human emotions, har har very funny, Cassie is making a beeline toward us.

  Toward me.

  Talk about awkward.

  “What a coincidence, finding you here,” she says and gets into my private space without missing a beat. Her blond hair is caught in a swinging ponytail, and she has silver loops hanging from her ears. She’s dressed in a red top that isn’t much bigger than a bra and a mini skirt that’s showing off her shapely legs. Dressed to kill.

  “Yeah, I bet ya didn’t expect me,” I drawl as her warm flesh presses against me. I take a step back, trying to discreetly put some distance between us. “Whatcha doing here?”

  “Oh, sorry, did I bust into an only-boys evening?” Her smile is anything but repentant. She knows damn well what she’s doing, this girl, and normally it would have turned me on like nobody’s business.

  But it’s not working, not tonight. Somehow, not anymore.

  “Is Ev with you?” Micah asks, whose mind is so stuck on one girl only, it’s kinda funny.

  “She said she’ll be by in half an hour. I came with Manon, but she’s at the bar over there, chatting up the bartender.” She bats her lashes at me.

  Crap.

  Cassie is here on a mission, time frame calculated and target set. Realizing the target is me isn’t too big of a leap. I mean, she’s still advancing on me even as I’m retreating. I’ve always attracted people, both chicks and boys somehow. I learned to take advantage of it, work with it. Own it.

  I had no other choice, and on certain days I forget I now do.

  “Hey, Cass, you’re going to Asher’s wedding, right?” Seth asks, momentarily distracting her.

  She glances at him, her eyes gleaming below lashes that seem long like a rail. Can’t be natural, right? “Yeah, I guess.” She turns back to me. “If Jesse’s going.”

  Holy shit. I also glance at Seth, hoping he can read my mind and get her off my hands, but he’s staring at her with a heavy frown, his neck reddening.

  No good.

  So I turn to Shane, who catches my eye, lifts a brow, and then nods.

  “I’m going out for a smoke,” I mutter and back away, into the crowd.

  “Um, I think I’ll join you. I’m—”

  “Tell me something, Cass.” Shane steps around the pool table and inserts his tall body smoothly between her and me. “Do you play pool? Wanna bet I can beat you with one arm tied behind my back?”

  What the hell, is that line supposed to work? I walk away quickly, before she sidesteps him and comes after me, but a look over my shoulder shows her with a cue in one hand.

  What do you know… Maybe she’s shifted her focus to Shane? Chicks often seem fascinated by his long hair and exotic features.

  Feeling sorry for Shane, I shove between people, earning a few shoves back. I make it to the back entrance of the bar and step out, onto the street, patting my pockets for my smokes.

  The night is warm. Wait, scratch that, not warm. It’s oppressively hot, even more so than inside Halo. No breeze, and the sky is overcast. I walk the few feet to the sidewalk bench and light up.

  I don’t notice Seth has followed me until he drops down on the bench beside me with a sigh.

  “Goddammit, man.” I almost choke on the smoke in my lungs. “Scared the bejesus out of me.”

  I offer him a smoke, and he takes it, borrows my lighter and lights up.

  “So what’s up?” I run a hand over my short hair. “I see you also made your escape from her clutches.”

  He keeps the cigarette between his fingers but doesn’t draw on it, just stares into the distance.

  Huh. “Everything okay?”

  “Cassie’s a nice girl,” he says.

  O-kay. “Sure she is. I never said—”

  “Fuck. Forget it.” He takes a pull from the cigarette, lets the smoke out. “Who the hell cares anyway what she’s like?”

  I frown at my hands hanging between my knees, the embers at the tip of my smoke glowing. “You, obviously.”

  Duh.

  It’s his turn to choke on smoke. “Screw you, J.”

  I snort and wipe sweat from my eyes. “Get in line, buddy.”

  Finally I get a laugh out of him, and I lean back, the tension leeching out of my shoulders. “Well, you’re a manslut, J. Why are you surprised girls assume you’re game for anything fun?”

  Ouch. I don’t know why it smarts to hear Seth of all people say this to me. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a whore—God, not the first time at all—but mostly it’s from people who mean nothing to me, not one of my friends. Not the guy about whose health I worry and whose chores I did this morning.

  “Fuck you, too,” I mutter, throwing the stub of my cigarette to the ground and rummaging in my pocket for the pack. “You know nothing about me.”

  He shakes his head and smirks. “I know enough.”

  Yeah. Damn. “Bullshit.”

  “I know you hate cleaning the shop. You love hotdogs and burgers, all that’s greasy. You have no clue how to deal with money, or the fact you got a steady income and a roof over your head.”

  “Yeah, cut out the love talk now. One might think we’re dating or something.”

  “Hard not to notice stuff.”

  “And your point is?”

  “You need to realize it’s true, J.”

  “What’s true?”

  “All of it. The roof, the money, the permanence of it. You’re off the streets.”

  “And for how long? How can you think it will last, huh?” Dammit. I light my second cigarette a
nd am horrified to find out my hands are trembling. “Fuck.”

  “All I’m saying, man, is I’m right where you are. We gotta believe it and start living, you know?”

  “No, I don’t know, so stop yakking. It was peaceful and quiet until you came out.”

  An echo of the words Amber spoke to me when I last visited her. My gaze drops to the faded line on my wrist where my leather band used to be. It was there for years, and now I went and lost it. Fucking stupid how it hurts not to have it.

  How it matters when it’s just a thing. You’d think I lost a friend. But it was a friend who gave it to me, and it was the last piece of her I had. Now I got nothin’.

  “What do you know about Amber?” I ask, the words leaving my mouth before I can think, before I can wonder what she has to do with the darkness swirling in my mind.

  “Amber? Ev’s friend?”

  “You know more Ambers?” I say irritably, tapping a rhythm with my foot until I realize I’m doing it and stop.

  Damn.

  “Man, are you seriously hitting on Amber? She’s Ev’s best friend. One wrong move, Ev gets upset, Micah will break both your legs and arms. Not to mention Zane and Rafe.”

  “Didn’t ask for your opinion.”

  He laughs. “Right. Well, I don’t know much about her. Probably even less than you.”

  Thank fuck he isn’t asking why I’m interested. “Humor me.”

  “Well, she used to go to school here with Ev. Then her family moved to Chicago, and she only came back the day of the party. She’s thinking of studying design, Ev says. You know she makes jewelry.”

  “I didn’t know.” I remember the pendant she wore at the party. Was that one of her pieces? I lean forward, more curious than ever. “Any reason why her family would move to Chicago?”

  “Fuck if I know. Maybe her parents got jobs there?”

  “Right.” Or the bullying got so bad they moved away. “That’s it?”

  “Ev’s the person to ask if you wanna know more.” His gaze sharpens. “Chick really got under your skin, didn’t she?”

  “She hates me,” I say, bitterness coating my tongue.

  “She doesn’t hate you. She’s scared of you.”

  Is she? Well, with good reason. “I frighten her and disgust her. How’s that any better?”