“Shit. I’m sorry,” she said to Tracy, who’d taken the brunt of the soda shower. Paige snatched a tissue from the box near the middle of the conference table and dabbed furiously at their paperwork while Tracy grimaced and wiped at her arm.
When Paige glanced up, it was to find Ryan still standing in the doorway, looking like a zombie.
“Nice of you to grace us with your presence.” Apparently Craig didn’t give a shit about Ryan’s appearance, which was par for the course in Craigland.
Beyond flustered, Paige couldn’t even summon the wherewithal to tell Craig to shut up. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so shocked. At least three years ago, the evening she’d been told her parents were dead. Finding Derek didn’t count—he was a different kind of shock. Her face was either paper white or bright red, she couldn’t tell from the way her brain buzzed. Tremors of anxiousness crawled under her skin, prickling the hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck.
Ticklish spasms in her throat brought on another round of hacking. Great. Just how she wanted to start her day. The inside of her nose burned from the influx of carbonation and her heart raced. With her free hand, she swiped her chin. What did Ryan know? And, more importantly, why had he asked?
Ryan sat down in the only unoccupied chair. He looked more than a little ragged. Worn out and…
“Are you wearing the same clothes from yesterday?” She couldn’t keep the confusion from her voice. He had been wearing the same outfit when they’d left dinner last night.
The man Paige had come to know like a brother—hard not to when you spent so many hours working together—scraped both hands over his face. She heard the rasp of callused hands over stubbly beard and knew for a fact something was very wrong. Ryan shaved religiously. The team often joked about his grooming habits, since the man never had a wrinkle, stain or hair out of place. Today he had all three.
“I was up all night. Haven’t even been home yet. I wasn’t going to come in today, but we have to get this program done. So let’s do it quickly, shall we?” He leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his legs out in front of him. Like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb and sauntered in almost four hours late, wearing yesterday’s outfit.
“Sure. No problem,” Craig grunted. “We’ll just shit it out and all go home.”
“Don’t be an ass, Craig.” Tracy scooted to the edge of her seat, turning her back on him. “Is there anything we can do, Ry? Can you tell us what happened?”
Paige pushed some stray strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat and barely refrained from standing up to lean over the desk. The action might make her look a tad too eager to hear what Ryan had to say. She too wanted to know what happened, but she had to tread lightly. His unexpected question had taken her by surprise for good reason, since she could tell him anything he wanted to know about werewolves—not that she ever would.
There were other types of shifters in the world, but for some reason the word werewolf tended to give people a more gruesome picture. Must be all those movies depicting seven-foot-tall hairy beasts standing on two legs, with blood and drool dripping off sharp, dirty teeth, while growling uncontrollably. The ones where some screaming, big-boobed woman who didn’t have the sense God gave her to run got her throat torn out. None of the three people currently occupying her office knew what Paige was, and she wasn’t about to out herself or her pack. In fact, very few humans knew were-creatures truly existed, so to say she was curious as to why Ryan had asked was an understatement.
“Katie was attacked last night.”
“Oh my God, Ry. Is she okay?” Tracy asked, her voice laced with sympathy. She laid her hand on Ryan’s knee, keeping with her characteristic touchy-feely self. If you weren’t into your space being invaded, you’d better stay away from Tracy. Paige and Ryan had pretty much become accustomed to her over the last couple of years. Only Craig still gave her funny looks when she had her back turned, but then Craig could be a jerk at the worst times, as evidenced by his smart-ass remark a minute ago.
Ryan nodded while squeezing the bridge of his nose. “She will be. I hope. It was sort of touch and go for a while there. She’s traumatized by the whole thing and sort of out of her mind and…I don’t know what the fuck to believe. They’ve pretty much got her drugged up for the pain, but she freaked when the nurse asked if I could come in. She won’t even let me in to see her.” He sank further into his chair, looking defeated to the bone.
“What happened?” Tracy’s fingers tightened on Ryan’s thigh. His thigh, Paige noticed, not his knee anymore, but further up his leg and getting closer to his groin region with every squeeze.
Even for Tracy, the touch went further than her normal touchy-feeliness. Ryan didn’t seem to notice—well, hell, yes he did, he grabbed her hand and squeezed back, tucking Tracy’s fingers right up into the bend of his waist. Only a couple of inches separated her best friend’s fingertips from Ryan’s zipper and what lay beneath.
Huh. She hadn’t noticed anything between them before. But then, why would she? Ryan had Katie, and Tracy…well, Tracy had a new flavor every week. They’d just been talking this morning about a man she’d slept with over the weekend.
Not only mentioned, but went into gory detail about how good he’d been in bed. Normally Paige would have been a tad jealous of her friend’s romp between the sheets. But after last night with Derek, and the strong likelihood there would be a repeat—tonight, if she had anything to say about it—Paige had sat and listened to Tracy gushing and tiredly nodded along.
Thinking about Derek made the heat stir inside her, despite the tumultuous environment she now found herself in. Paige mentally shook her head.
As much as she wanted to run out the door, find Derek and screw his brains out, she had to know what was going on with Ryan.
Besides, whatever was happening between Ryan and Tracy, it wasn’t her business. They were both adults. Except Ryan has a girlfriend, a little voice niggled. The woman who was attacked last night, Katie. It didn’t matter that they’d only been seeing each other for a few weeks. Surely Ryan wouldn’t stoop so low as to flaunt an affair right now of all times.
Ryan sucked in a breath and dropped his chin to his chest. His gaze must have wandered to his lap because all of a sudden his fingers shot open, dropping Tracy’s hand and practically flinging it off his leg like it had burned him. His eyes narrowed, and for a split second he stared at Tracy as if she’d grown horns.
Maybe Paige was wrong about them and seeing things where there was nothing.
And maybe Paige needed a little more caffeine this morning. She took a tentative swig of her Coke, hoping this time she could swallow it without drowning. Tracy folded her hands in her lap, a semiwounded—semi…angry?—look on her face.
“What happened, Ryan?” Tracy said again, apparently undeterred by the strange byplay between them. Lord, you could cut the tension in the office with a knife. Things had never been this way among the four of them. They were friends. They went out for dinner all the time, played cards, shared birthdays. But the truth was, even Craig’s surliness had gotten worse in the last couple weeks. And now this. What the hell was going on?
The scene played out like a dream where all of them were wearing alter egos. Everyone but Paige. If she put on her alter ego, Ryan would have the answer to his question in about thirty seconds.
“She was running at Stone Ridge Park.” His voice cracked with emotion and his words sounded nasally, as if he were all stopped up. More like he’d been crying.
She knew the park he was talking about. Lots of people walked, ran and biked on the paved paths that ran through the beautiful area filled with trees, ponds, playgrounds and a Frisbee golf course. The simple idea someone might be attacked at the park was outrageous and more than a little scary. This kind of incident would have all its visitors in a panic. Paige’s h
eart went out to Ryan at the same time it pounded in heavy anticipation of what he might say. Stone Ridge Park wasn’t all that far away from her pack’s land.
“A man jumped her,” Ryan continued.
A man, then, not a wolf. Paige let out a shallow breath. So how had Ryan made the leap to asking if they believed in werewolves?
“He dragged her off into the woods and raped her. Beat her up, raped her and left her for fucking dead,” he snarled.
Craig stood and in three long strides made it to the door, which he closed with a decisive click effectively shutting out Ryan’s quickly rising fury. “Christ, man, do you want the whole place to hear you? You seem to have forgotten there’s an entire floor of cubicles out there housing all the rest of us yahoos who work here.” He delivered his little speech with his normal lack of couth.
Ryan inhaled again and wiped his palms on his day-old pants. His hands shook when he lowered them, and Paige could smell his anger, fear and something close to desperation. “Her sister said she was talking crazy, babbling something about the man turning into a wolf after he…did what he did and running into the woods.”
“That’s nuts,” Craig muttered. “Not possible. She had to have hit her head. There’s no such thing as werewolves.”
A rumble of unease flitted through Paige’s system. There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in Craig’s assertion of “no such thing as werewolves”. A normal nonbeliever would be vehement. Craig was not.
Before she could think about it further, Ryan snapped, “You think I don’t know that?” His red-rimmed eyes were haunted when he glanced at Craig.
There was vehemence. Ryan believed there could be no such thing. Paige’s heart had gone from pounding to pausing. Shit. Hell. Damn. If a shifter had done this, had actually raped a human woman, then let her see him shift—whether or not he thought she was dead—it was inexcusable. All of it.
Touching a woman without her consent was wrong no matter what species you were. Paige’s wolf fought to the surface as she thought about Tucker’s hands on her last night. She felt joints popping. Her teeth elongated, her nose twitched. She wanted to run straight from the office to Caelan and demand he find the shifter who’d done this.
There was no doubt in her mind that if Katie said she’d seen a man turn into a wolf, she had indeed seen a man shift. It didn’t matter if she’d hit her head or not. You see stars then, not men turning into dogs. Paige was also certain the police would brush aside Katie’s accusations as the words of a hysterical woman who’d been brutally violated. Who wouldn’t? Unless, of course, Katie was lucky enough to be assigned one of the shifters who worked on the force.
Paige wanted to throw up. Rape among pack members was unthinkable, mostly because they had an alpha as a higher power to face if they stepped so far out of line, usually culminating in a challenge to the death—and who really wanted to die? But to go after a human? God. She might have only been living under Caelan’s protection for a short time—and wouldn’t be there now if it weren’t for the death of her parents—but damn it, her mother had been Caelan and Eli’s aunt. There was no question he would listen to her. He wasn’t a man to sit idly by and put up with this sort of thing.
“I don’t know what to do.” Ryan slumped forward in his seat and buried his head in his hands.
“There’s nothing to do, man. Let the police find this guy.” Craig paused. “Did Katie give them a description?” He tucked his hands in his pants pockets, crossed his ankles and leaned against the doorframe. The pose screamed “I’m bored” and was lower than a skunk’s ass in terms of respect.
“Yes. Hell, her sister said she even described the wolf she saw. The doctors thought she was crazed with pain and high on the meds they’d already given her.”
Paige fisted one hand and bit her tongue, forcing herself not to shout out, “What did he look like?” If she had a description of both the man and the wolf, she could almost guarantee a positive ID by morning. At the very least she could rule out anyone in the Graham pack. Which really only left a rogue shifter, and rogues were never a good thought.
“So what, you were thinking about going around and asking everyone in the area if they’ve seen the wolfman? They’d put you away right alongside Katie.”
Paige nearly growled. How she held it in, she didn’t know. The man’s level of assholishness kept ratcheting up. “Craig, shut up.”
“Yes, please,” Tracy seconded. “But he is right in one sense, Ry—you should leave it to the police.”
“Would you?” Ryan barked. “What if it was your new lover that got attacked? Would you stand back and do nothing?”
Tracy’s mouth opened and closed like a fish twice before snapping shut with a decisive click of her teeth. Her jaw ticked as she brushed a nonexistent something or other off her skirt. Then she looked Ryan square in the eye. “No, I’m just saying you could get hurt if you try to go after this guy by yourself. He might be dangerous.”
Ryan huffed a half laugh. “Might?” He stood abruptly. “Might be dangerous? Trace, did you miss the part where I said he beat her, raped her and fucking left her for dead? I know he’s fucking dangerous.” He shoved the chair, sending it toppling over to thud against the Berber-carpeted floor.
Shocked at his explosive reaction, Paige jumped in her seat, as did Tracy. Leisurely uncrossing his legs, Craig stirred from his spot and came to a full stand, his hands still pocketed. Paige thought Ryan had every right to be pissed. His girlfriend had been violated in the worst possible way imaginable and she was refusing to see him. Since they hadn’t been dating all that long, Paige had to wonder if Katie would ever speak to Ryan again. If it had happened to her, Paige had the feeling it would take a long, long time to come out of whatever protective bubble she chose to pack herself in.
Ryan’s sigh was loud in the silence that followed his outburst. He righted the chair, careful to place it in the exact spot it had come from, as if it were now made of glass and might break. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Dropping the pencil she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding and practically bending in half, Paige got up and circled the desk to stand in front of Ryan. She could sense his pain among a myriad of other emotions. When she looked in his eyes, she saw that he was lost. Anything she could do to help him, she would. He just wouldn’t know about it. Couldn’t know about it.
“We’ll help any way we can.” She gently laid her hand on his forearm. His muscles bunched under her touch.
He nodded and, with a sob so unlike his normal persona, tugged her into his arms and hugged her tight.
“Can I get in on this hug?” Tracy asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. She shoved her head under Ryan’s arm and squeezed her way in.
Ryan snorted, then sniffled. “You guys are the best.”
“I’ll stay where I am.”
“Shut up, Craig,” Paige and Tracy said together.
Crisis averted for the moment. They had a lot of work to do if they were going to get their current project out the door on time, but Ryan was in no shape to do anything today. Besides, Paige wanted to get to Caelan as soon as possible. He needed to know what had happened, mostly so he could look into the police report and get all the details. Surely their company could do that much. If nothing else, he could talk to their shifters on the force.
And being a shifter, Caelan for damn sure would be more adept at ferreting out information in a case involving a were than a human cop. Any one of their employees could probably go to the scene of the crime and simply smell the suspect. She could go. Now even. It was obvious her team wasn’t going to get much done this afternoon. They’d worked as much as they could that morning without Ryan being there, but they were at a point they couldn’t do much without his input. She suspected his thoughts wouldn’t be for shit at the moment. Maybe the best thing for all of them would be to take a break and
come back tomorrow with fresh eyes. With the time off, she might even be able to follow the scent of the shifter right back to his house. How was that for identifying a suspect? Following a trail straight to the bastard’s door.
Not entirely smart. And hello, was she really contemplating following a rapist after she’d freaked out about a flippin’ knife on her table last night? She must have moron written across her face. Fine. She’d call Caelan and have him meet her at the park.
Hey, she might have decided to play it smart, but that didn’t mean she could resist be part of the action.
“So,” she said, trying not to sound anxious, “why don’t we call it quits for the day? You go home and try to get some sleep, and we’ll meet tomorrow when things have calmed down some.” Paige eased out of Ryan’s hold and patted his chest.
“Fine.” Craig walked toward them and gathered his laptop bag from the floor. “I’ve got some stuff I have to do anyway.” After shoving his computer away, he headed for the door. He stopped there, with his hand on the doorknob, and glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t do anything too stupid, okay, Ryan?”
It was the first sensitive thing he’d said all morning. Well, semisensitive thing. He’d said don’t do anything too stupid. Which, in essence, gave Ryan permission to still be stupid. Ryan inclined his head a fraction. The act didn’t strike Paige as a full agreement not to do something stupid, but Craig didn’t seem to care, because he shrugged and left the office without looking back.
Why did Paige get the feeling she was dealing with two major man issues and not one?
Derek pushed through the front door of the Graham estate, juggling a set of keys and a grande mocha from Starbucks in his hands and a file folder stuffed full of his previous job’s notes in his teeth. He shoved the door shut with his hip and headed for the office to his right. At one time the room might have been considered a formal greeting room, but Caelan and Eli had turned it into their office space. It sat just inside the foyer, so clients who entered the house never actually saw any of the interior of the home itself.
Ultimatum: Graham Pack Mates, Book 3 Page 6
