by Susan Bliler
Staring at the TV, she took another sip of her beer before setting the bottle on the table right next to the bottle of Benadryl she’d been nursing. Allergy medicine knocked her out so when her bouts of anxiety became too much to handle, she often kissed the Benadryl gods in hopes of respite. It always worked. Even now, her eyes were starting to droop. Sleep. It’d be nice. She hadn’t had any real sleep since she’d left BlackLodge five days earlier. She’d thought…no, she’d hoped that distance from Tyson would get her head back on straight, but she was miserable. She wanted to go back. She wanted to go give Tyson a chance, but she was afraid, and alone in the dark confines of her apartment she wasn’t ashamed to admit that to herself. Sitting in the dark without fear of being discovered, she admitted that she was afraid that Tyson would get too close and find out the real truth, which was that she wasn’t loveable. Sure she and Vesa were close. She also genuinely cared for Vesa more than anything. But was that love? She wouldn’t know. She and Vesa’s relationship had been formed out of necessity. They’d been two abandoned girls tossed into a screwed up system where they’d clung to each other for stability. Their relationship had been one of mutual need. There’d been no choice. There’d never been a choice for her. She’d been brought into this world without anyone ever having asked her or caring her opinion on the matter. Worse, the two people who’d brought her in, who were supposed to be responsible for her and care for her, had abandoned her. They’d forced her to enter this world, and then they’d discarded her like she was trash. Because of that, she felt worthless most of the time. She felt like an imposter who’d snuck into a party and at any moment someone was going to notice and ask her to leave. She hated that feeling. She hated feeling like she didn’t belong. Her skin color and her attitude only made it worse. She was a sassy black woman, and for some reason, that alone offended more people than it should.
Stupid cunts!
The world was full of miserable people. Now, here she was, counting herself among them, never having wanted to join their ranks but forced to all the same. She’d done her best to become what society would deem a productive member, but oddly, she felt more alone now than she ever had growing up. Perhaps it was because Vesa had finally found happiness. The thought seared her with shame. How could she even for one single second be jealous of Vesa’s happiness? Vesa deserved her happiness with Haddix, and deep down, Cersi honestly believed that she deserved a little happiness of her own too. She just didn’t know how to get it, and just the thought of Tyson accepting her and letting her in only to discover that she wasn’t worthy had humiliation and self-loathing ripping through her.
She’d never asked for anything from anyone, and she was given nothing. Now, it was all she had. Nothing. And she regretted it. For the first time in all her twenty-seven years, she hated that she hadn’t humbled herself and asked for what she needed. Help, acceptance…love, she hadn’t ever asked for any of it. If no one had ever offered it then she sure as hell wasn’t going to cow herself by asking for it. And, now here she sat, hiding from her fate because she was ashamed to admit to Tyson that she didn’t know how to love. She didn’t want him sacrificing himself for her when she didn’t even know how to give him what he deserved. She was always supposed to be that way. She was going to live strong, die hard. But…she’d seen him, and he’d cracked her armor. Like a great stone table broken right in half, Tyson had fissured her resolve to stay apart from the world. Here she sat fuming and regretting. Feeling anxious and useless she felt like giving up for the first time since she’d been a helpless kid.
Buzzed up, and high, and crying now because she didn’t know what to do, Cersi leaned forward and fisted her hair with both hands. She groaned and fought to keep in the scream that was wrenching its way up her throat.
She’d believed with every fiber of her being that she’d been meant to be alone, hell, she’d been born that way, and then fate had thrown Tyson her way. And she wanted him. Dear god, she wanted him! She never knew a person could want another so badly and it made her chest ache. Her throat hurt too. It felt like someone had bottled a roaring tumultuous sea and dumped it inside of her. She was restless and exhausted. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to run. Her body was starving because she hadn’t eaten since her last meal at BlackLodge, but these new emotions that had been assaulting her for the past few days had annihilated her appetite. Everything was contradictory.
Sleep! Sleep was what she needed.
Snagging the bottle of Benadryl off the table beside her, she took another drink before chasing it with her beer.
Just get fucked up, you’ll feel better.
She slammed the rest of her beer and let the empty bottle drop to the floor beside her chair. It felt like the walls were caving in and she needed someone to tell her what to do. But she had no one, just Vesa. Glancing at her phone, she picked it up and looked at the numbers dancing before her. Calling Vesa felt wrong. Vesa was in BlackLodge, and Tyson was in BlackLodge, and reaching out to Vesa felt like encroaching on Tyson’s territory. She shouldn’t do that…should she?
In her head, she played out how her conversation with Vesa would go, and somehow her muddled brain changed the conversation to one with Tyson. In her head, she was screaming at him that this was his fault! She’d been fine before he’d come along and made her want shit that wasn’t meant for someone like her.
I swear God made you for me!
That’s how she felt. Like Tyson was her reward for all she’d had to endure. But that wasn’t right. God wasn’t real. God didn’t let children suffer alone and be bounced around from unwelcoming home to unwelcoming home. Still, she couldn’t get out of her head the way Tyson had taken to calling her Beautiful instead of Badass. He called her Beautiful like it was her name and she’d never admit it, but every time he called her that, something inside of her warmed with pride and hope. Every. Damn. Time.
Dropping her phone, she got up and staggered to her kitchen in her bare feet. She’d been wearing the same jeans and t-shirt for two days now, but who cared. She hadn’t left her apartment in nearly a week.
In the kitchen, she jerked the fridge open and strangled another bottle of beer. Standing in the open fridge and chugging it down, she grew light headed and swayed on her feet.
Yes!
She felt numb and was having a hard time keeping her eyes open.
Slamming the empty bottle onto the counter, her clumsy hand released too slowly. When she pulled her hand away, the top of the bottle came with and then it was falling. She was turning away before it crashed to the floor, forgotten.
In her room, she tried to get her shirt off, but only managed to tangle her arms before she gave up and crashed face first onto the bed where merciful, sweet, elusive, darkness finally claimed her.
Chapter 23
Stalking barefoot back toward his cabin, a growl blasted up Tyson’s throat. His nightly run through the forest had done little to soothe Monster. Hell, he almost felt worse because now that his blood was pumping he felt compelled to do…something. Monster lunged for the surface, and it doubled Tyson over. Hands fisted against his stomach, he gnashed his teeth and struggled to retain control.
Crazy fucking Monster!
He thought Tyson would be too distracted by thoughts of Cersi and too exhausted from the run to be ready for the onslaught of his inner beasts challenge. And, that’s exactly what this was. Monster was trying to claim his skin so he could go on the hunt. Monster wanted Cersi, and he was done waiting for Tyson to act on it, and with each passing day, it grew harder and harder to keep Monster down.
Tyson staggered up his front porch steps. After his run, he’d only regenerated a pair of low slung jeans which he was glad for because his skin was on fire. Even the deep snow he walked in couldn’t chill his bare feet. Monster was shredding his insides and was ramming full bore now just below the surface.
On the top step, Tyson’s knees buckled. He went down hard as a long, anguished, snarl blasted up his throat.
F
uck this hurts!
He felt his incisors punch through his gums and when his mouth flooded with blood, he fell onto his back and panted in an effort to keep a leash on Monster. If Monster took Tyson’s skin right now, it’d only end badly. Fucking beast had no care at all for other people, innocent people. No, if Tyson let him take control, he’d tear out of BlackLodge and hunt Cersi down to wherever it was she’d run. He’d stalk straight into her town, her neighborhood, her home, and he wouldn’t give zero fucks who saw him or who got in his way. And, if there’s one thing Tyson knew for certain it was that humans didn’t take kindly to wolves in their cities, especially not Dire wolves that were three times the size of the largest wolves on the continent. Letting Monster take his skin meant that he’d most likely be shot, and while he’d endured bullet wounds before, it wasn’t something he was looking to repeat, especially if Cersi were near. If anyone even tried popping off a shot while he was near Cersi, he knew Monster would take over, and Monster’s brand of retribution wasn’t something any human could endure.
“You gonna lay there and grunt all night?”
Lip ticked up in a snarl, Tyson’s head jerked up. His eyes locked on Haddix and held a moment before he let his head fall back on the porch with a thump.
“Look,” Haddix continued, stomping up the front stairs in his hiking boots before stepping casually over Tyson’s prone body and dropping into the rocking chair next to the door. “I get that you’re a big badass. We all get it, but pretending like you’re not in love with Cersi is killing you man. I mean just fucking look at you!”
Haddix paused a moment like Tyson was actually going to lift his head and look at himself. He didn’t.
“This is getting out of control. It’s been five days of this shit, and you’re only getting worse. You need to go find her.”
Drawing in a ragged breath, Tyson was relieved at the relief Haddix’s mere presence gave him. Monster couldn’t be controlled, not by anyone or anything, but the beast recognized Haddix as his Alpha. Haddix had saved Monster’s life on so many occasions that Tyson had lost count, and the gratitude and fealty that Monster felt toward Haddix had the beast quieting just enough for Tyson to grit out, “Going to.”
“What?”
He wanted to laugh at the shock in Haddix’s voice, but it still hurt too much to even breathe.
“Going after her. Soon’s Monster sleeps.”
“Well…well, that’s great!”
Tyson chuffed a humorless laugh at the genuine surprise in Haddix’s tone. It was followed by a soft grunt of pain. He ignored the pain and focused on the faint flicker of hope that was struggling to stay alight deep inside of him. That tiny flame was the prospect of having Cersi, and each breath he took fanned it dangerously, so much so that Monster’s attention kept dragging back to it. Mean fucker was circling it constantly now, snarling and chuffing, scraping his paws on the ground in challenge, but there was no one to battle. No, if that flame was going to stay lit, it was up to Tyson to make that happen, and the only way to do that was to find Cersi. He didn’t want to have her like he’d already had her. No, he wanted more. He wanted all of Cersi, and yeah he didn’t deserve her, but he didn’t fucking care anymore. He saw what having a mate could do. Claiming Vesa had changed Haddix, and it was a change for the better. Hell, even Brayden had become a better person since he and Afften had mated, and Tyson wanted it too. Monster deserved a chance. He deserved a chance. He deserved that small opportunity for Cersi to accept him and give him the chance to live up to her. He wanted to be good enough for her. After watching Haddix and Brayden with their mates, he realized that’s what love was, finding someone who was better than you so you could live up to them. Love was supposed to make you a better person, and he wanted to be better for Cersi. He ached to accept the challenge of giving her the man she deserved. He wanted to be that man, and he was going to be, and if she didn’t want him, really didn’t want him, then she’d have to tell him to his face.
“Well when?” Haddix prodded. “You need help? You wanna fight? We could tire him out.”
It was a tactic they’d used on numerous occasions. Fighting was something Monster understood. He always rose to the challenge even when he knew he was being baited.
“Thanks, but no.” Tyson appreciated Haddix’s offer, but he didn’t want to find Cersi like that. He wanted…no, he needed to be able to control Monster. The fucking beast needed to be leashed before Tyson would feel safe going after her. She deserved better. She deserved a man who could control his inner demons, and he was going to be that man for her, or he was going to die trying. And holy fuck did it feel like he was dying. Everything hurt already. Fighting would only make things worse, and as much as Monster liked to brawl, Haddix’s offer of a fight couldn’t distract Monster from thoughts of Cersi. No, the beast had tasted her flesh, had buried himself deep inside her. He wouldn’t be distracted. He refused to be deterred. When he was on the hunt, it was with single-minded focus, and right now, Cersi was his prey.
“You’re gonna be alright, man.” Haddix blinked down at him in all sincerity. “No matter what, you’re gonna be alright.”
Swallowing around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, Tyson stared up at the sky. “You know, I spent my whole life hoping I didn’t fuck shit up. I never once thought about how shit was fucking me up. I didn’t protect Monster like I should have.” He was quiet a moment before he said again, “I should have.”
“You’re doing it now. That’s all that matters, Ty.” Haddix shoved up out of his seat and towered over Tyson. For a minute, he just stared down at him before his lips thinned into a grim line. “Shower before you go after her. You look like shit.” He stepped over Tyson and descended two steps before stopping. “Oh, I almost forgot.”
Something thumped Tyson in the chest and had Monster tensing so quickly that he nearly broke free. Fierce eyes locked on Haddix, he growled at his Alpha before Haddix lifted a finger and pointed at his chest.
“You left your phone up at the main house.” One corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “You missed a call. From her.”
Tyson’s eyes jerked from Haddix to the cell phone resting on his chest. Her? Cersi? He jackknifed to a sitting position, and for once Monster didn’t fight him. It was only because the fucker knew he couldn’t work a phone, but Tyson would take what he could get.
Scrambling to his feet with a groan, Tyson was halfway through his door when Haddix told him, “You’ve got a week before I come looking for you.”
Not sure if the words were a promise or a threat, he realized he didn’t care. Nope, the only thing on his mind was the fact that Cersi had called.
Swiping his finger across the screen, he was greeted with the bubble that read, Missed Call with Badass right above it.
Ffffffuck! He’d missed her call!
As soon as he logged into his phone, it pinged with a voicemail message. The knowledge had his heart pounding against the wall of his chest so hard that he wasn’t sure if it was actually his heartbeat or Monster banging against his insides to get him to listen to the message.
In his cabin, he kicked his door closed and went straight back to his room. He didn’t know why, but something about finally hearing from Cersi had him wanting solitude. He needed quiet and no distractions whatsoever, and sure he lived in a cabin on the outskirts of BlackLodge all by himself, and yeah, it was quiet as shit out here, but still…
Beating his thumbs into his phone, he lifted it to his ear, held his breath, and waited.
“Vesa!” Cersi’s voice sounded slurry and…drunk?
“Vesa, I need you, something’s wrong.”
Wrong? Tyson’s palms started sweating as his mouth dried up.
“I…I fucked things up. You gotta tell me what to do. You’ve always been good at that. Do you know that? Do you know you’re the only person on the face of this fucking earth who cares if I live or die? And I hope you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, and I’m sorry I’m jealous of you.�
� When she spoke again, her voice sounded distant like she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth. “God, I’m such a fucking asshole!”
There was a scraping noise and then she was back. “Anyway, don’t tell Tyson I called. You’re his now. I’m not. You have a place there. I don’t.”
Heart thumping, Tyson swallowed hard, praying she said more.
“And Tyson, this is all your fault!” Her tone changed, and he swore she was crying. Her thoughts were all over the place, and she was definitely drunk, but he wanted to hear more.
“This is your fault,” she screamed. “I was fine before you came along. Before I knew what I was missing. You…you…you fucked me all up! And, I don’t want to love anyone! Do you hear me? I don’t know how! I…” she hiccupped on a sob. The last thing she said before the line went dead was, “I swear, God made you for me!”
Tyson didn’t move. He didn’t know how long he stood there in the darkness of his room with the silent phone pressed to his ear, but it was a while.
God made you for me?
Replaying her words he huffed out a breathless, “Holy shit!”
At first, he thought she’d been calling to make sure he knew things were over, to tell him to stay away, but she’d been drunk or something. Her head had been all over the place. She’d mis-dialed and left a message for Vesa and mid-call it had changed to a message for him. With each word she spoke, he’d felt his faint inner flicker of hope diminishing, but with those last five words…those last five words were like a fucking Molotov cocktail tossed right at his struggling little flame. Cersi had just ignited his determination, and it was quickly building into a blinding inferno.
Cersi thought she was calling Vesa, but she called me. Cersi told me everything was my fault but said she didn’t know how to love. She admitted to having a hard time because now she knew what she was missing, but what did she mean? Him? Her last words didn’t sound like an argument or chastisement. No, they sounded like a plea. She thought God had made him for her and he she was right. He had!
