"I… I don't know. Who knows if he'll still be here by then."
"Why wouldn’t he be?"
Cara shrugged. "This is just temporary housing for those in need. Sooner or later he's gonna move out and move on."
"Or he'll stay and make a home for himself here."
Cara smiled at the thought, then frowned. She couldn't allow herself to hope that might actually be true. Not after she told Noah the truth. Which she was going to do that evening.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cara spent the afternoon with Natasha, in the kitchen, studying and trying to not think about Noah. Every once in a while he'd make an appearance and ask what they were studying, or if they needed anything. The distraction made it hard for Cara to concentrate. Memories of the night before, of the way he'd held her, cried on her shoulder, and asked her to stay, were all she could think about. Not a moment had been awkward or uncomfortable. Being with him had just felt… natural.
Noah finally went out and she was able to get some real studying done. Natasha left at five and Cara decided it was time for a long shower. She rubbed her neck and headed up to her bathroom. It was Saturday night, she had one more day to herself, before work and school started up again. All she wanted was to curl up in bed and get some sleep.
Thirty minutes later, a week’s worth of tension floated down the drain with the soap. Cara got out of the shower and dried off. She stepped into the hallway and listened for Noah, but heard nothing. Not that she'd hear him anyway. Aside from the night before, he was the quietest roommate she'd had. No music, no phone calls, nothing.
She walked down the hall to her room and dried her hair before throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She'd just brushed through her hair when her phone rang. She picked it up and saw that she'd missed almost a dozen calls from Tate.
"Tate?" Her stomach churned.
"Oh thank God! There you are."
"What's wrong?"
"I need your help. Noah's had a panic attack. He's at the local hospital. They picked him up at the mall. I'm on my way but I need someone to get there and try to calm him down."
Noah was in trouble.
"Cara?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm here. Okay. I'll go right now."
"Thank you. I should be there in about an hour. Traffic is pretty bad. He's at Malibu General."
"It's near campus. I know where it is. I'm on my way." Cara tossed her phone into her purse, slid on her tennis shoes and bolted out the door in under a minute.
The bus would be quick, but it was fifteen minutes till the next one arrived. She'd have to hoof it.
Cara slung her purse over her shoulder and took off. Her keys gripped tight between her fingers as she glanced over her shoulder and scanned the street.
It'd been a while since she'd gone out for a run, her muscles ached, and her chest burned within minutes. She looked over her shoulder, then turned the corner, and headed toward the hospital. She found herself praying he would be okay.
By the time she reached the hospital, a trickle of sweat had washed down her spine. She pushed into the emergency room and walked to the desk. The scent of antibacterial soap and metal permeated the building. Light music played over the sound system and half a dozen people waited on hard pink chairs, staring at a television with only subtitles to keep them company.
"Can I help you?" asked a nurse behind a glass window and brown Formica desk.
"Yes, I'm looking for a man who was brought in. He was at the mall. His name is Noah."
The nurse nodded. "Are you family?"
Cara swallowed hard. "He's my roommate."
"I'm sorry but we don't allow non-family in the emergency room. If you'll wait here–"
There was a crash down the hall followed by shouting. Noah.
Cara took off toward the curtained-off room.
"Miss! Stop! I'm going to call security," the nurse called.
Cara's tennis shoes squeaked on the linoleum as she passed partitioned rooms. A male nurse jumped out from behind one, almost pulling down the blue curtain.
"I'm not trying to hurt you. You need to calm down," he said.
Profanity poured from behind the curtain. "You aren't sticking me with any freaking needles."
Cara ran up beside the male nurse.
"Stay back." He tried to push her behind him but she brushed him off.
Inside the small, curtained room Noah stood next to the bed, his body tense and ready to attack.
"Noah." She put her hands out in front of her, palms up, keeping her voice calm and steady.
"Cara. You shouldn't be here." His eyes held shame.
"Tate called me. He's on his way. I came to make sure you were all right."
"I'm fine."
He didn't look fine. She licked her lips. "Okay, well, then if you're fine, why don't you sit on the bed for a minute and take a breather?"
"I just want to get out of here. I've had enough of hospitals."
"I am sure that's true. You were in the VA for what? Four months when you came home?"
"Over five." His gaze connected with hers and his shoulders slumped slightly.
"I was in the hospital once. It sucked and I wasn't even in there two weeks." She lifted the hem of her t-shirt and showed him the scar on her abdomen, near her belly button.
His muscles relaxed a fraction more. "You were shot."
She nodded and dropped her shirt. She needed to keep him talking. "I had to stay because I got an infection. Man I hated that hospital room. Bland floral walls with blue chairs. No matter what I did the bed was too small and uncomfortable. And the sheets? Every time I moved, they rubbed against that plastic mattress and woke me up."
He nodded. "And the lights never turn off all the way. Even when they're off in your room, they're still on in the hall, and peek under the door."
"And the people constantly walking by. Talking and phones ringing. You'd think after that we could sleep through anything."
His body slumped and he sat on the bed. She blew out a shuddered breath and her tension evaporated with his.
She turned and motioned for the nurse to go away.
Noah hung his head in his hands.
She sat next to him and dropped her purse on the bed while he looked her up and down.
"You're in your pajamas." He reached out and curled a strand of her hair through his fingers. "And your hair is wet. You were getting ready for bed."
She shrugged. "Doesn't matter. This is more exciting."
He hung his head again. "I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this. You don't deserve it. You have your own problems. You shouldn’t have to deal with my mess."
"We all have messy, crappy, baggage, Noah. No one is free from it. It's just different for everyone. Yours I can deal with. Other people’s, not so much."
He gave her a tight smile. "You're a good person and a good friend."
His kind words punched her so hard she couldn't draw breath for a minute. 'A good person.' She wasn't so sure about that.
"You want to tell me what happened?" she asked.
He rubbed his head and then lay back across the bed. "I was at the mall. I just went in to find a few things but there was a sale and the crowds got crazy, then the noise grew and I just… lost it."
He threw his bulky arm across his eyes. She wanted to touch him and allow him to feel the connection between them. To help him.
"I was attacked last year by Natasha's ex-boyfriend," she blurted.
He peeked at her from beneath his arm.
She hadn’t talked to anyone about the attack. Not even Liam or Natasha. Not really.
"He and a bunch of his pack came into the condo, tied me up and beat me to find out where she was. I've never been that scared before. I thought they were going to kill me." She rubbed her wrist where the duct tape had ripped from her skin.
Noah sat up. "Cara I–"
"I thought I was fine. That I'd gotten over it. The nightmares were down to a day or two a week and I was proc
essing them better. Then, about two months ago, I was on the bus on the way home. I got off at my stop and the guy got off too. He started to call for me to stop. I freaked out and ran for my apartment. He chased after me, calling for me to stop. By the time I'd gotten to the gate I couldn't think straight. I panicked and pepper sprayed him. My wallet had dropped out of my bag. He just wanted to return it."
She looked down at her shaking hands.
"So that's why at the coffee shop you were so scared when that guy came in the back."
She nodded.
"Cara I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. Bad things happen in this life. To good people. To bad people. It's how things are. I haven't been able to step foot in the basement since the day I was beaten. I still look over my shoulder, no matter where I go, and I always carry mace with me. I know some day it will get better. Maybe one day I'll walk somewhere and realize I didn't look over my shoulder once. Maybe I'll even leave the mace at home. Not today, but someday."
He slipped his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. "I wanted to die before I got here. I was in a motel and had been drinking for about a week straight. Jefferson called me and then Tate called. If it wasn't for Tate and Donovan, I'd be dead right now."
"I've thought about it myself, a few times. But then I thought about all the things I'd miss if I were dead and I decided I like fast food too much."
He chuckled.
"But seriously," she said. "I may not have been through everything you have, but I've seen my share of bad times, and I'm here if you need me. You aren't alone. Liam, Natasha, Tate, Donovan. We all want to help."
His gaze connected with hers and he gave her a tight smile. "Maybe this werewolf thing was a blessing in disguise."
****
Did he mean that? He didn't know if he did or not. He hated being a werewolf and the threat of what might happen on a full moon, but he hadn't felt this safe, with another person, in a very long time.
Between the gunshot, losing her mother, and the attack, it was obvious Cara had been through more than her fair share in life. She exuded more strength than most women he knew. What she’d endured would have crippled women like his mom and Brigette. Yet here she was, forgetting her own problems to help him with his. He didn't deserve it.
Part of him wanted to hold her, protect her, and never let her go. Another part wanted to find out exactly who Natasha’s ex-boyfriend was and beat the ever living crap out of him.
"I think, maybe I owe you some fast food after all this," said Noah.
She laughed and tucked a curl behind her ear. "I'd settle for your cooking again."
He smiled. "Deal."
Her large, doe eyes scanned his face. She was so close her scent invaded him like his own personal brand of aromatherapy. She sucked in her bottom lip, bit it, and desire raced through him. He wanted to take that same lip into his mouth and taste it.
"Noah."
He looked up. Tate stood at the edge of the curtain.
Cara hopped off the bed and walked to him. "Hey."
Tate gave her a tight squeeze but his eyes never left Noah's face. A surge of jealousy rippled through Noah at the sight of her in another male’s arms.
"Hey Cara. Thanks for coming."
She backed up. "Not a problem."
Tate crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I talked to the doctors and they're willing to release you into my care. I think we should give Cara a ride home and then we can pack your stuff."
Cara's brows furrowed. "Pack?"
Tate's gaze shifted between them. "Donovan thinks it's best if we bring you back in Noah. Have you stay with us a while longer."
Leave? Noah's gaze shifted to Cara, whose expression seemed conflicted.
"Thanks Tate but I'm good."
"Obviously not. You’ve had this incident today and Liam told us about the pizza place."
"Nothing happened," said Cara. "At the pizza place. Nothing happened. Noah was feeling a bit uncomfortable so we left. That's all."
Tate stayed quiet for a minute. Finally he reached out and squeezed Cara's arm. "Can I have a minute with Noah?"
She gave a small nod and grabbed her purse. Her gaze connected with Noah's. "I'll be in the waiting room."
He nodded. "Thank you."
Tate gave her a smile and she walked out, her shoes squeaking on the floor again.
Tate rubbed his face and pulled up a chair.
"You should come back with me. Let me get you into daily therapy. You need it."
Noah shook his head. "I'm doing okay here. I haven't had a drink in weeks."
"The first was spent with us drying you out."
"True. But I've been clear headed, I’m eating better, and I have a lot of quiet time to sort things out. I have a routine and people I care about."
"You aren't fixed yet."
"No. But for the first time in six months I'm looking to the future and actually thinking I might have one."
"With Cara?" Tate's words weren't accusatory.
"Cara's a nice girl who's been through a lot. I don't want to add to her load."
"Then don't. Come back with me and let's get you more help."
"Tate I'm eternally grateful to you, for what you've done, but I'm not going to up and leave – again. I can't. I'm finally starting to feel better. But I'll compromise; I'll start going to Los Angeles for therapy regularly. How’s three days a week sound?"
Tate stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "And group session too. I can't make you do any of this but it's for the best. You know that."
"I appreciate your help."
Tate stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. "Donovan isn't going to like this."
"Then he and my dad can have a nice, lengthy conversation about all the things they don't like about me."
CHAPTER NINE
Cara and Noah walked into the apartment and she set down her bag. It was close to eight p.m. Wiped, she headed for the stairs.
"You want me to make some dinner?"
She paused and looked at Noah. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. "You know I think I'm gonna head up to bed. I have an early class and work so I need to get some sleep. Can I get a rain check?"
"No problem."
She tried to give him a reassuring smile.
"Tate thinks I should go back with him until I'm better." His face was an unreadable mask.
She wasn't sure what he wanted her to say. "What do you think?"
He shrugged. "I like it here. I've felt better since I've been here. I could see myself staying long term, maybe."
An unseen weight lifted off her shoulders. "Then you should stay."
"I promised to start therapy; three times a week."
"Therapy is good. Maybe it'll help you acclimate to being back."
"Did it help you?"
She swallowed hard. "I didn't have the money to go. But I processed in my own way. And I'm doing better now. I firmly believe in surrounding yourself with people who care about you. And if this is where you feel safe and happy, then this is where you should be."
He gave her a tight smile. "Thank you for being so understanding."
"I've been where you are. Maybe not to the same degree, but I do understand."
He nodded. "Anyway, I won't keep you."
"Good night, Noah."
"Night." He turned and walked into the kitchen.
Cara watched him go. Her gut told her to go to him, but she didn't have it in her at the moment. Instead she climbed the stairs and went to her computer. Opening it up she did a search for PTSD.
The next morning Cara got up late, threw all her books into her bag and rushed down the stairs to get to the bus. She reached for the front door and found a note on it. Noah had already headed down to Los Angeles for the day but planned on making dinner that night. She smiled at the thought and reached into her bag. She gripped her can of mace and rushed out, being sure to lock the door, and check it twice, before heading down to the sidewalk.
By late afternoon, the coffee shop was filled to capacity. The customer she'd had a run in with hadn't come back, but she'd told her boss Donny about the incident. He'd been kind and had taken her side, for which she was grateful.
A new waitress had been hired but it was up to Cara to train her, making her job twice as hard. She dropped off a cup of coffee and a sandwich to a patron then turned around to survey the shop and found Clint and Rock sitting at a table. Her ribcage squeezed slightly at the sight of them and she looked around for the new girl, who was nowhere to be seen. Cara swallowed hard and rubbed her palms on her half apron before heading to their table.
"Hey guys." She gave her best smile and wave. "What can I getcha?"
"Hey Cara," Clint and Rock said in unison.
"Can I get some pie?" asked Clint.
"Any particular kind?"
He gave her a sexy surfer boy smile. "Fruit if you have it. And a cola."
"I'll have a tuna sandwich and a cola as well," said Rock.
"Got it." She turned to go.
"Cara," said Clint. "That guy you came to the pizza place with, is he new in town?"
She turned back. "Yeah. His name is Noah. He's a veteran who's staying with me for a few weeks."
"Cool," said Clint. "Is he gonna go to school here?"
"No. He's graduated already. I'll get your food." She left but her mind was a whirl of questions. Why was Clint interested in Noah? Maybe Liam had mentioned him or something. Either way a protective instinct ran through her.
She waited in the kitchen until their food was ready, then trekked back out and handed it to them.
"A bunch of us are going down to the Santa Monica Pier this weekend," said Rock. "You and Noah are welcome to come along if you'd like."
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