The Fullback Protector

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The Fullback Protector Page 2

by Emma Wolfe


  I studied her, hating that I could hear the increase in her heartbeat. She was lying. Again.

  Something was wrong. I’d known it for a long time. And it bothered me that she would lie to me.

  Four years ago, when I’d finally had enough of my father’s abusive behavior, my sister and I escaped and ran to the only place I knew would be safe.

  Liam’s.

  Mr. Bronson took us in and helped us find a place with Mrs. Diggory. She was kind and sweet and would never raise a hand to me or Brielle.

  I felt a certain loyalty to her, same as I did the Bronson family. They’d saved me from a future of anger and revenge. Here, I could live in peace.

  My dad, Wes, had come looking for me, but it only took one fight with Mr. Bronson for him to realize that getting me back wasn’t a fight he could win. So he ran. Typical.

  I’d managed to push him from my mind. To fix the broken parts of myself and start over. And I had Mrs. Diggory to thank for it. I just wanted to protect her like she’d protected me.

  I moved forward, resting my hand on her shoulder. I nodded toward her room. “Get back in bed, and I’ll go make you some tea.”

  Mrs. Diggory glanced behind me and sighed. “That sounds like heaven.” She started to move toward her bed but then paused. “Make sure to bring me some of those gingerbread cookies you love. I stocked the cupboard this morning with them.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Will do.”

  Mrs. Diggory slipped back into her room, and I made my way to the kitchen and started to fill up a kettle with water. Just as I set it on the stove, Brielle came walking in.

  Her cheeks were pink, and she looked out of breath. I studied her with my eyebrows raised. I knew that look. She’d been running in the woods.

  “Where did you go?” I asked as I started taking mugs out of the cupboard.

  Brielle glanced over at me and sighed. Typical little sister stuff. She was always reminding me that she was only eleven months younger than me and could take care of herself. I always told her otherwise.

  “You’re not the only one who needs to let off steam,” she said as she made her way over to the cookie jar.

  Irritated at the way she was speaking to me, I shot her a look. She just blew out her breath in response.

  “I was fine,” she said, annoyance clinging to her words. “I didn’t get close to home, and I stayed far away from the Corden territory.” She gave me a grin as if that was supposed to appease me.

  With the unrest of the mother pack, I didn’t like her wandering around at all. But I also knew there was no way I could tie her down.

  “Mrs. Diggory is sick. Next time I’m gone, do not leave.”

  Brielle’s gaze slipped over to Mrs. Diggory’s room, and I felt a softening in her attitude. Brielle had the same soft spot for Mrs. Diggory as I did.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Brielle asked as she brought her gaze up to meet mine.

  I nodded. “She’ll be fine. It’s just a cold. But we can’t leave her alone.” I held her gaze, hoping she would feel the weight of my meaning.

  “I know. I’ll stick around.” Then she paused as she turned to narrow her gaze at me. “But I’m not going to just sit in this house until I graduate. You will allow me to leave, right?”

  I raised my eyebrows as I opened a tea packet and slipped it into the mug, the string hanging over the side. “We’ll see.”

  Brielle let out her typical sigh and folded her arms.

  Thankfully, the kettle started whistling, so I removed it from the stove and poured the water into the mug. The water turned a murky brown as tea bag’s contents seeped into it. I stuck a spoon in the mug and grabbed the cookie jar. Brielle was waiting for me—no doubt wanting to check on Mrs. Diggory herself.

  She followed me as we walked into Mrs. Diggory’s room. She was leaning back against her headboard, and her eyes were closed. Her hands were resting on her chest, and I could see that her breathing was shallow. She was asleep.

  Not wanting to wake her, I set the mug of tea and jar of cookies down on her nightstand and then turned, motioning Brielle to follow me.

  Brielle nodded, and we both slipped from Mrs. Diggory’s room. I shut the door behind me and glanced over at Brielle.

  She leaned her back against the wall and nudged the carpet with her foot. “Any news from Liam?”

  I shrugged as I shoved my hands into my front pockets. Brielle knew some of what was going on—just not everything. And I wanted to keep it that way. She still had night terrors about our past, and I didn’t want to feed that beast.

  She needed my protection, and I’d spend my life making sure she was safe.

  “Don’t worry about that. Mr. Bronson will figure it out. We just need to stay safe and stay busy.”

  Brielle pinched her lips together as she nodded. Then slowly, she glanced up at me with fear in her eyes. It was the same fear I’d seen when Wes would come home blind drunk—I would push her under the bed and face Wes’s frustrations head on.

  I hated that look. I would do anything to make her feel safe. So I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around my little sister, pulling her into a hug.

  “You don’t have to worry. He’s not coming back,” I said, my voice muffled by her hair.

  Brielle hesitated and then nodded as she wrapped her arms around my chest. I held her for a few moments before I let her go, stepping back to offer her an encouraging smile.

  “Head upstairs and get to bed. We’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”

  Brielle nodded, and I saw exhaustion pass over her face. She made her way up the stairs. Just before she disappeared into her room, she shot me one more smile and shut the door.

  Once she was gone, my anxiety hit an all-time high. I had no idea if what I’d said to her was true. I had no idea if we were safe or not. I could feel the tension in the threads that held our world together. This was bigger than the death of the alpha. Something else was happening, and I hated the uncertainty I felt.

  After knocking off a few pillows from the couch, I grabbed a blanket and collapsed on the cushions. I was exhausted, that was for sure. But there was no way I was sleeping upstairs.

  For now, I was going to sleep down here, where I could battle anything that came to harm us. My job was to protect, and I was going to do that until my last breath.

  Nothing was going harm the people I loved. This was my home.

  Liam

  I knew going to the bar had been stupid. I knew I should have never run into those woods. Not when I was hurting this bad. Not when my desire for Cora was overtaking my ability to think rationally.

  Thank goodness I’d taken Grayson with me. He was loyal to a fault.

  But I should have known better. I should have never put him in that situation. I knew what demons waited for him back in the mother pack, and I had been selfish to drag him there.

  He deserved a better alpha, that was for sure. I was weak and completely distracted by my pain. The loss of Cora was consuming me.

  Growling, I rolled my shoulders as I headed down Main street toward my house. Dad would probably still be up, and if I went home all agitated like I was, he would know something was wrong.

  I wasn’t up to having a conversation with him about Cora. Not when he was still deciding what to do about Uncle Brutus’s challenge.

  Even though tradition said he had to fight, Dad still wasn’t sure he cared enough to go through with it.

  He’d left the mother pack a long time ago. There was no need to worry about dominance. He lived his life here, and the pack could live theirs. My dad had decided to completely forget who he’d been in the woods and move on.

  But I couldn’t move on. Not when Cora’s safety was at stake. With the threat the mother pack brought, I couldn’t allow myself to fall for her.

  I rolled my shoulders again as I approached my house. Anger was building inside of me, and if I allowed it to keep growing, I would lose control. That was the last thing I needed.

&
nbsp; After my heart rate was back to normal, I climbed the back stairs two at a time and pulled open the door. As soon as I was inside, I could feel Dad’s presence.

  He was standing next to the sink with his arms wrist deep in water, staring out the window. He was lost in thought, and as I got closer, I could feel the pain that he had allowed to bubble up.

  I knew why he was hurting. His pack, his family, had taken the one woman he loved. There weren’t many times when he would allow that pain free, and it was almost crushing to stand in the presence of it.

  I don’t know if my own pain from losing Mom was added to it, but it took my breath away as it coursed through my body.

  My dad turned with a startled look on his face. “Liam?” He pulled his hands from the water and grabbed a towel.

  I could feel him pushing down his pain, and I snapped out of the trance it had put me in. I cleared my throat as I pushed my hands through my hair.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Dad grabbed a plate from the drying rack and dried it with the towel. I knew he was trying to look busy. Trying to do something other than tell me what I already suspected.

  He wasn’t going to fight. My chance with Cora was gone. Without Dad as the alpha, it was only a matter of time before the mother pack came searching for us. If that wolf at the bar represented the feelings of the mother pack, those who were half-human, half-wolf weren’t safe.

  And those who fated with a human? They would suffer the same.

  Hating that my dad was avoiding me, I stepped forward so he would have to face me head on. “You’re not going, are you?”

  Dad flicked his gaze up to me and then let out his breath. I watched as his shoulders rose and fell from the weight pressing down on him.

  “Liam, it’s not that simple. Fighting would only start a war between our packs. I just don’t see the use in it. We’re not going to change…and neither are they.”

  Frustrated with his incessant dish drying, I grabbed the plate and towel from his hands. “That’s it?” I asked, rage exploding inside of me.

  Dad sighed. “You don’t understand, Liam. To you, it’s a fight for dominance. Do you think they will just stop if I win? Do you think there won’t be others who step up to challenge me?” Dad turned and rested his hands on the countertop, looking at the floor.

  “I promised your mom as she took her last breath that I would take you away from them. That I would let you live the life you chose for yourself.” Dad pushed off the counter and turned to face me. “No battle will take me away from you.”

  “But—”

  “Liam, don’t.” Dad held up his hand as he met my gaze.

  My frustration lingered, but I could feel his desire to drop the subject. I could feel his pain from even talking about this.

  So I clenched my jaw and pinched my lips together. Even though Dad was done talking about this, I wasn’t. But I would drop it for the evening.

  Dad seemed satisfied. He pulled the plug out of the sink and then took back the towel I had taken from him.

  He wiped the water from his hands and hung the dish towel on the handle of the oven. He gave me one swift nod then declared that he was headed upstairs to bed.

  I was too angry to talk. I just stood there until I heard the latch of his bedroom door engage, and then I raced to the back door and pulled it open.

  I ran to the edge of the woods and shifted the moment I was surrounded by the leaves and branches.

  From there, I ran. Through the trees and up the mountain. Trying to get away from the pain that was suffocating my soul.

  If Dad wasn’t going to battle for alpha, that meant the mother pack was going to win. And if the mother pack won, then Cora could never be mine.

  Ever.

  3

  Rose

  “Rose!” Grandma Jordan’s voice cut through my dream and startled me awake. “Get down here. We need you.”

  I groaned as I shifted on my bed. I was lying propped up with my parents’ notebook clutched to my chest. I must have fallen asleep reading last night. Again.

  I closed the book and shoved it under my pillow. I flopped on my back and rubbed my eyes as I stared up at the popcorn ceiling above my bed. Five thirty in the morning was way too early for my liking.

  I wished there were days that I could sleep in until my body naturally woke me up, but it wasn’t a luxury I was afforded. Grandma needed me, and I was going to help. It was what family did.

  The smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes wafted up from below. It was a perk of living above a diner—every day smelled like the start of a Hallmark movie.

  “Coming!” I yelled back as I threw the covers off my lap and ran across the freezing floor to the bathroom to start my shower.

  Every day was exactly the same, yet I never seemed to manage to get myself up on time to help with the morning rush before heading to school. I mean, I’d lived with my grandparents since Mom and Dad died. I should be used to it by now.

  The pipes squeaked loudly as the warm water stuttered to cold. Grandma Jordan must be running the dishwasher.

  I winced and quickly rinsed the rest of the soap from my body before twisting the knob to stop the flow of icy water. I wrapped a towel around my body and ran back into my room.

  A few minutes later, I emerged dressed in a solid white tee and cutoff shorts. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and I had a light splash of makeup on my face.

  There wasn’t anyone in Smoky Hills I wanted to impress. Good-looking, dateable guys weren’t exactly in high supply. But I did try to look presentable. Especially after Grandma told me last month that I should “try a little harder and maybe boys wouldn’t scare so easily.”

  Thanks, Grandma.

  After slipping on my shoes, I bounced down the stairs and into the back kitchen. Thomas was busy flipping pancakes on the griddle and whistling—always whistling.

  Thomas was beefy but sweet. He looked like an ex-convict with his neck tattoos and deep, gravelly voice. But inside he was a teddy bear, and he’d been with the diner for so long that he was basically my uncle.

  “Hey, Thomas,” I said as I twirled past him, grabbing a pancake from a stack he’d just plated.

  He growled at me and shook his spatula, but I could see the start of a smile behind his big, bushy mustache.

  I giggled and shoved the pancake into my mouth so I could grab an apron hanging right next to the door. I wrapped the apron around my waist and pushed through the swinging door, completely distracted with my attempt to tie the strings.

  Just as I stepped out into the diner, I ran into a brick wall.

  Except brick walls didn’t usually have arms, and they most certainly didn’t look like Grayson.

  “Rose,” he muttered as his calloused hands gripped my upper arms.

  I don’t know why, but even after I rejected him last summer, butterflies still managed to assault my stomach when he was around.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, bits of pancake flying from my mouth.

  Red-hot heat coursed through my body as I tried to step away from him, brushing the pancake from his chest. His extremely large, very firm chest.

  But, apparently, my spitting food on Grayson didn’t disgust him. He remained in front of me, holding my arms. If anything, his grip tightened slightly. Not in a creepy, I’m a serial killer kind of way, but in a please don’t leave kind of way.

  His gaze turned desperate as his eyes darkened. It was almost like there was something painful about standing there with me. It was the same look he got when we hung out over the summer.

  Nothing boosts your self-esteem like a guy who’s in physical pain whenever he’s around you.

  “Are you okay?” he finally asked, clearing his throat and standing to his full six-feet-and-three inches.

  My skin was reacting to the feel of his hands. My heart was hammering so loud I was pretty sure half the diner could hear.

  “Yeah,” I said after swallowing what was left of my pancake. �
��I’m okay. You can let me go.”

  He glanced down at his hands like he hadn’t realized he was still holding onto me. His arms snapped back, and he shoved his hands through his hair, turning his gaze to the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  I shrugged as I finished tying my apron. Once I was put together, I glanced up at him. “What are you doing here?” Thank goodness my voice had returned to normal.

  My question seemed to throw him off guard. He parted his lips. “I’m, um…” He furrowed his brow.

  As much as I wanted to remain platonic with Grayson, there was something about his lost-puppy look that had me wanting to wrap him up in a blanket and take him home with me. Which made me feel like I was seven again and rescuing every helpless animal I came across.

  Except with Grayson and his muscles for days, helpless was not a term anyone would use to describe him.

  “Here’s your coffee and double short stack with three servings of bacon,” Grandma Jordan said, startling me.

  I jumped to the side just in time to see her reach past me and shove the food into Grayson’s hands.

  Grayson seemed equally startled as he snapped his gaze over to Grandma. He studied her for a moment before realization passed over his face and he grabbed the brown bag and coffee cup.

  He mumbled a “thanks” and then turned and headed out of the diner.

  I watched his retreat, trying to figure out what had just happened. I mean, I was used to his strange, brooding ways. Just a few days ago, he’d basically forced Cora and me into his truck so Cora could shop in a bigger grocery store. He did a lot of weird things like that, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t confusing.

  “What a strange kid,” Grandma said as she clicked her tongue and turned to glance over at me. “Come on, breakfast isn’t going to serve itself.”

  I nodded as I reached behind the counter to grab a notepad. “Yes, ma’am.” I spun past Grandma and headed out to the tables to start taking orders.

  A group of men sat hunched over in the back of the diner. I’d never seen them before, but that wasn’t an anomaly. Hunters came to Smoky Hills all the time.

 

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