Cursed by the Moon (Shifter Rising Book 2)

by Rebekah R. Ganiere

  A minute passed, then another.

  Finally, he blew out a long low breath and straightened. "I think I should hit the hay. Thanks for the game."

  "Noah?" She stood, wanting to go to him. To say something that would make him feel better, but honestly, she wasn't sure what to say. She still hadn’t dealt with her own traumas. How could she hope to help him with his? "I'm upstairs if you need me."

  He gave a nod and headed to his room without looking back.

  Cara stared at his bedroom door, her heart bleeding. He was a good guy. He didn't deserve all that he'd been through. She chewed her lip.

  No. It wasn't her business. Of all the people who could comfort him, she wasn't the one. Cara put the controllers away and headed toward her room.

  She was a hypocrite.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next day Cara called Natasha, to ask if she wanted to go for coffee. She slipped out of the house without seeing Noah.

  She walked into the coffee shop and instantly felt like she was betraying her boss. He'd been struggling, more and more, to keep the campus shop afloat; there were too many big chain shops popping up. But Cara had to talk to Natasha and she didn't want to do it within earshot of her co-workers.

  Natasha sat at a corner table, with her laptop, latte and a danish on the table.

  "Hey." Cara plopped into the chair opposite.

  Natasha looked up and smiled. "Hey yourself." Her gaze traversed Cara's face. "Not sleeping well?"

  Cara shook her head. She'd suffered through another nightmare about her attack by Daniel, Natasha’s ex. But telling Natasha would only upset her. It hadn’t been Natasha’s fault that Daniel had been a psycho who wouldn’t let her go. Cara knew that if Natasha had had any idea that Daniel would come after her, she never would have let Cara be put in danger. But her nightmare wasn't why she needed to talk.

  "It's not that,” she said. “It's about Noah."

  "Ah." Natasha wiggled her eyebrows. "I could smell there was something between you two."

  "Again, not that." She tried not to let irritation seep into her voice. "It's something else. I'm not sure what to do."

  "Did something happen?"

  "Not exactly."

  "What does that mean?"

  Cara picked at the edge of Natasha's napkin. "Last night we were playing a video game. Things were fine. Good even and then, all of a sudden, Noah just… freaked out."

  "Freaked out how?"

  "One minute he was playing the game and laughing and the next he was on his feet just staring at the TV screen."

  Natasha's expression darkened. "We should tell Liam."

  "No!" Cara reached across and gripped Natasha's hand. "Please. I don't want Noah in trouble. I'm just not sure what to do."

  "Cara if you're in danger–"

  "I'm not. I know he wouldn't hurt me. That's not why I called. I'm not here for my safety, I'm here for Noah's."

  "Noah's?"

  "I want to help him."

  Natasha bit her lip. "I don't know Cara."

  "Please, Natasha. He needs our help. It's the only way he's gonna make it. I need Liam to try and befriend him. It can't be just me."

  She shook her head till the shake became a nod. "Okay. I'll talk to Liam. I won't tell him about last night but I'll see if maybe be has any idea what we can do."

  "Thank you." Relief zipped through Cara like a live wire.

  ****

  Noah lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He rubbed a spiky therapy ball over his thigh while his– transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation unit– contracted and relaxed his stump. Absently, he reached down to scratch where his lower leg used to be, to find nothing there but the bed sheets. He shook his head. The phantom limb pain had gotten a thousand times better in the last seven months, but it still ached and itched a couple times a week.

  He replayed the events from last night, over and over. One minute he'd been sitting, having fun for the first time in a long time. The next minute, bam! The dog on the screen had sent his brain into overdrive and suddenly he'd been back on that street in Afghanistan, staring at Jefferson in wolf form, trying to save the idiot's life. How the hell was he supposed to live in a world where a simple dog could be a trigger? He'd tried to avoid dogs since being home but just seeing a fake one, in a video game, had almost sent him over the edge.

  More than anything though, he kicked himself for scaring Cara. She was a nice girl and didn’t deserve having to deal with a messed up freak like him. It was obvious she had her own problems. She didn’t need him adding to her stress.

  His duffle bag lay next to the white dresser. He'd packed it an hour after the video game and had made it as far as the front door before turning around and going back to his room.

  He stared at the unopened fifth of tequila on his pillow. His throat burned with the memory of its spicy, scorching taste. He shoved the bottle under his pillow and sat back against the headboard.

  This was it. He either made a stand now and coped with his life, or he ended it and put everyone out of his misery.

  Noah had lost two buddies to suicide since he'd come home. He'd stood at their gravesites and watched their wives receive the folded flag, tears squeezing from their eyes, like fat raindrops. Heard the bugle play Taps; a slow, soulful, last remembrance. He didn’t care what it would do to his father, but his mother and Brigette were another story. Ever since Tate and Donovan had intervened, he'd come to realize that killing himself would only take his pain and amplify it to all those he cared about.

  Leaving was still an option. Finding a different place to stay. Tate was sure he shouldn't stay alone but he had no idea how he was supposed to live with someone else in his condition. He'd only been to a handful of PTSD therapy sessions and support groups. It hadn't been until he was out of rehab that he'd realized the extent of his issues.

  A knock on his door pulled his attention. He placed the therapy ball on the nightstand and tugged up the compression sleeve on his stump before covering his legs with a blanket.

  "Yup."

  To his surprise Liam, not Cara stood in the doorway.

  "Can I come in?" Liam asked.

  "Sure." His throat constricted on the words. The wave of 'don't dick with me' that rolled off Liam had Noah's mouth drying, like someone had shoved cotton balls in it. If Cara had told Liam about the incident the night before, this friendly conversation would turn ugly pretty fast.

  "I heard you might need someone to talk to."

  "Uh…" Confusion muddled Noah's brain. Not what he'd been expecting. "I don't understand."

  Liam's gaze hit the duffle bag in the corner. "Looks like you might be leaving us. Tate said you'd be here at least a few weeks. Something change?"

  So Cara hadn't told Liam about the freak out. The thought both warmed and baffled him.

  "Yeah… I just… I mean." He licked his lips. "I think it might be better, for Cara, if I moved on."

  Liam crossed his fully tattooed arms over his chest and leaned back against the door.

  "And why is that? Did something happen?"

  If Cara hadn't said anything, it was for a reason.

  "I'm… not right. I haven't been since all this happened." He gestured to his leg. "Thoughts, flashbacks…"

  "Post Traumatic Stress?"

  Noah nodded. "I've been seeing a therapist but I never know when it's going to trigger. I see something one day and I'm fine but I hear a dog bark the next and I flip. Cars backfiring, firecrackers, even pop rocks are enough to set me off. I don't want to hurt her."

  Liam's stern stare stayed planted on Noah for a minute before his stance relaxed and he pushed off the door and walked forward.

  "Look man. I don't know you but I know Cara. If she couldn't handle you, she'd tell me. From what I've heard from Natasha, Cara's had nothing but good things to say about you. But she's worried, which is why I'm here. I think maybe you've been in your head too long. First you were in the hospital, then in the hotel alone, and then with
the Night Shift. You need to try and be with people. Try to relax. Do something more normal than just sitting in this room alone all day. A group of us are going out tonight to get some pizza. Why don't you come?"

  They were offering to help. To let him in. Being locked in his head was exactly where Noah had been for the last seven months.

  Noah nodded. "Thanks."

  "Don't thank me. Thank Cara. You'll bring her with you right?"

  "Sure." Not like a date. It wasn't a date. He was just going to give her a ride.

  "She works on campus at the coffee shop. I'll text you directions."

  "It's okay. I can find it." He was really going to do this. He was committing to go out in public with people.

  Liam pointed to Noah's prosthetic leg propped against the mattress. "That is amazing art."

  "Thanks. It was done by a friend in LA."

  Liam's eyebrows screwed up. "JD?"

  Noah grinned. "How'd you know?"

  Liam lifted up his tank top and turned around. His entire back was one giant piece.

  "Nice. I can see JD's flare in that."

  Liam put his shirt back on. "He's a good guy." He pulled open the door. "See ya tonight."

  Noah gave a small wave. "Tonight."

  Please Lord, don't let me screw this up.

  ****

  Cara cleared the last of the coffee mugs from a vacant table, shoved the meager tip into her pocket, then wiped down the surface. It'd been slow all day, which sucked because it left more time for her to stress over what had happened with Noah.

  Eight hours on her feet and every inch of her ached. What she really wanted was to curl up in bed and fall asleep. But she wasn't going to because Noah was picking her up to go out with some of the local pack for pizza.

  It was interesting the way Liam had forged a friendship with Clint, Buck, and Rock so suddenly after years of animosity. But after what had happened to Natasha, and the way they'd all gone to her rescue, Cara supposed a bond of solidarity wasn't all that unforeseeable.

  She looked up at the clock.

  "Is it okay if I go wash up early?" she asked her boss.

  Donny glanced over; his graying temples and horn-rimmed glasses gave him a much older, and more sophisticated look, than his thirty-five years.

  "Hot date?" He raised an eyebrow.

  Cara's cheeks heated. "Just going out with some friends."

  "Really? The color of your cheeks doesn't say 'just friends'." He chuckled when she gave no response. "Go on. You deserve it. I've been working you hard lately."

  "Thanks, Donny." She headed into the back, put the coffee mugs in the sink, grabbing her purse off the hook, and jogging to the employee bathroom.

  "Hey, I'm gonna run do the deposit really quick, okay? There's only one guy out there finishing up his drink.”

  "Sure. I'll only be a minute anyway." Cara closed the bathroom door and opened the large bag Natasha had given her for Christmas, pulled out a pair of leggings, and an off the shoulder, emerald green blouse. It'd hung in her closet untouched for over a year. It was the nicest thing she'd bought herself in a long time. She dressed quickly, then found her matching, dangly green earrings and necklace. She checked herself in the mirror and bit her lip. Too much.

  She took off the necklace and tossed it back into her purse. Better.

  Her stomach churned as she removed the brand new makeup bag; the tag still attached. She'd never been one for make up but she figured now was as good a time as any to try something new. She unzipped the small pink bag and took out the items. She ripped open the package of mascara and carefully applied it to her upper and lower lashes, the way she'd seen her mama do a million times over. She stared at the effect in the mirror. Her lashes were longer than she'd realized and the mascara accentuated the beautiful natural curl.

  Next, she grabbed the tube of lip-gloss and smoothed it on. It was sticky but not overly so. The faint cherry taste was something she'd have to get used to. She smoothed down the green shirt and opened the door.

  Terror skittered over her skin like spiders. The last customer stood inside the kitchen waiting for her.

  "What… what are you doing back here?" Her ears pulsed with the pounding of her heartbeat.

  "Hey." The customer smiled at her.

  "I asked what you were doing back here." She tried to stay calm but fear gripped her so tight she could barely breathe.

  "I was just looking for you. I saw Donny leave and I knew you were back here so …"

  His words trailed off as she scanned the kitchen. Her eyes lit upon a knife in the sink. She moved, quick as light, and grabbed it, holding it in front of her.

  The man's eyes widened and he backed up. "Whoa. Hang on a second."

  "Get out. Get Out."

  "I don't want to hurt you." He held his hand up. "I just wanted to ask you–"

  "Get out of here!" Cara backed toward the bathroom.

  "Okay. Okay."

  The swinging door opened and Noah walked in.

  "Cara?" Noah's glanced at the guy and then his gaze landed on Cara and his expression hardened. He advanced on the customer. "What the hell are you doing in here? You aren't supposed to be back here. We're closed. Go home."

  The guy nodded and bolted past them and out the door. Noah watched him go and then scanned Cara.

  She stared at him, frozen to the spot.

  Noah walked toward her slowly, took the knife from her hand, and threw it to the floor. She continued to stand frozen, arm out stretched.

  "It's okay," he said. "You're okay." He moved closer to her and she backed away.

  He ran his hand down her arm and she relaxed against the wall. He waited a minute and then swooped her into his arms and held her tight.

  She gulped in air and blinked rapidly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I… I just–"

  "It's okay. He's gone." Noah stroked her hair as the adrenaline pulsing through her veins tapered off and the shakes took over.

  Everything caught up with her and the realization of what she'd just done rained over her. "Oh man. I'm gonna lose my job and maybe get kicked out of school and…" She was rambling.

  He kissed her head and then cupped her face and made her look at him. "Cara. You're not going to lose your job or get kicked out of school. I'll tell them it wasn't your fault."

  He hugged her again, tight, and for the first time, in a long time, she felt safe and protected. The knot in her gut loosened a fraction. Embarrassment flooded through her and she pushed away, trying to flatten her curls, knowing full well it would do no good. Noah didn't need her crazy bleeding into his life.

  She backed up a step. "I… I'm going to use the bathroom really quick and then we can go, okay?"

  His eyes became conflicted. "Are you sure you still want to?"

  No. But she didn't want to go home and lay in bed alone either.

  She flashed him a shaky smile. "I'm sure."

  He nodded and squeezed her arm before digging a lollipop out of his pocket and heading to the swinging door.

  She stepped into the bathroom, closed the door, and slid to the floor as the tears began to fall. Man she was such a mess. She'd thought she was over it all. The nightmares were mostly gone. The constant fear. The loss of appetite. It'd all subsided in the last six weeks.

  Memories of Daniel and the others stampeding down the stairs and tying her up flooded her mind.

  She had to get her crap together. She could have killed that customer. Why? Because he'd been in the kitchen?

  She opened her eyes and wiped them. No. She wouldn't let the nightmares overtake her again.

  She stood and looked in the mirror. Her mascara had run down her cheeks and her lip-gloss had smeared. So much for trying to look nice.

  She breathed deep and blotted her make up. She was better than this. Stronger than this. She would not be weak. She would not let her past ruin her future.

  Five minutes later she pushed open the door to the front of the shop. Noah lean
ed against the counter with his broad back to her, looking out at the student center food court. Butterflies fluttered in Cara's stomach so wildly she feared she'd throw up. Her knees shook as she walked around the side of the counter toward him. Her flats hit a slick patch of tile and her foot slipped out from under her. Noah turned at just the right moment and lunged forward. He grabbed her by the arm, keeping her from going down.

  "You okay?"

  The embarrassment that had ripped through her before now blossomed on her cheeks so hot she thought she'd give herself a sunburn.

  "Yeah. Thanks."

  His eyes connected with hers as he pulled her straight. His warm, strong hands gripped her upper arms and for a moment, they stood so close, she thought he might kiss her. Her heart beat like a base drum as the scent of his fresh cologne invaded her.

  "You look amazing." He smiled.

  "You smell amazing." She coughed and turned away. How could she let herself say something so stupid?

  "Green's a really great color on you."

  She peeked over at him. "Thanks. You look great too." Who wouldn't with his physique and gorgeous features?

  "You sure you still want to go? I won't be mad if you just want to go home."

  "Nope. I'm hungry anyway so we might as well just go. We don't have to stay long."

  He gave her a genuine smile. "Whatever you want. I'm here for you."

  "Thank you, Noah."

  He led the way out of the coffee shop and Cara looked around for the guy from the shop. She really should apologize, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  They walked in silence through the student center. Cara couldn't help but notice every pair of female eyes that turned to stare at Noah as they passed.

  Jealousy traced up her spine.

  "Jealousy is ugliness Cara Jean." She heard her mama say.

  They made it to the exit and Noah held the door for her.

  "So this is your school huh?" he asked.

  "For now. After the next semester I'll have to find somewhere to transfer to since it's only a junior college."