by K R Hall
Tracie and Nathaniel followed Stehn into the dark kitchen. When Stehn turned on the light, she could see a center island and a pair of stools.
“Kitchen has all of the basics. This door leads to the pantry. The other door to your bathroom.”
The bathroom was small, with a walk-in shower. Tracie was a little disappointed that there wasn’t a bathtub. She liked to soak in the tub and read a book at the end of a long week. Oh, well.
On the opposite end of the bathroom was another door. Stehn opened it to reveal the bedroom. Tracie stepped in, noticing the bed was king size. She pictured Nate sprawled out naked and felt the heat in her face. A shiver ran down her back as she walked past him and to the living room.
“The apartment is very nice. I’m sure I will be quite comfortable here,” Tracie said, turning to face Nate and Stehn. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Stehn replied.
“Are you ready to get your stuff from Shannon’s?” Nathaniel asked.
“Sure.”
Tracie followed the men outside and turned around to lock up the apartment. Then she followed the men down the stairs. Stehn hopped on his Harley while Tracie followed Nathaniel to his truck.
“See you tomorrow at ten,” Stehn said before riding off.
“We better get going,” Tracie said when Nathaniel lingered.
“Right.”
The Lykos pack would take Tracie in as one of their own, and he’d have what he had craved since he knew they were mates. He wanted her. All her ups and downs. He wanted her forever. No small fete, but it felt like things were finally shifting his way.
***
The engine cut off as Nathaniel parked next to her U-Haul. Tracie had only unpacked a few things to be comfortable at Shannon’s. She knew she wouldn’t be living there for long. Nathaniel followed her inside and to her room to pack.
“So, I take it you found a job and a place to live,” Shannon inquired.
“Yes. Legacy Tattoo, the tattoo shop owned by Stehn and Bruce, needs a bookkeeper, and it comes with an apartment over the shop. Nate’s going to help me pack and move everything tonight so that I can start work tomorrow morning.”
“That’s great news. I’m happy for you, but I will miss you again,” Shannon said. “Please come by for a visit every now and then. You can call me if you have any more questions regarding shifters.”
“Thank you. I will miss you too,” Tracie said, walking over to hug Shannon. “I will definitely visit and contact you if I need any help.”
“I will let you be then. I need to get started making dinner.”
“Bye, Shannon,” Nathaniel and Tracie said in unison.
“It’s quite the coincidence that there was a job opening that also had an apartment with it, just when I needed them,” Tracie mused.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think I was manipulating anything.”
“Right. I didn’t even have to interview for the job,” Tracie snorted.
“Well, I didn’t have anything to do with the apartment being available. I didn’t do anything meddlesome,” Nathaniel protested. “I am sorry. I wanted to help you, and I missed you.”
“Plus, you wanted me close to you for protection,” she reminded him.
“Thanks for the help Nate,” Tracie said as a pretty blush tinted her cheeks.
“Anytime. Let’s get the last of these three boxes loaded into the U-Haul.”
Nathaniel followed Tracie as she drove her car and U-Haul to Legacy Tattoo. Without being asked, he helped her unload the U-Haul carrying a dozen boxes and her bed frame and mattresses up the stairs and into her apartment.
“Would you like me to help you unpack?” Nathaniel asked as he entered the apartment with the last box.
“Umm,” Tracie looked around her new home. “No, I don’t think I need help. There really isn’t much to unpack.”
Nathaniel looked a little sad that he couldn’t help.
“Would you be willing to come over this weekend to hang my pictures and shelves on the walls?”
“Sure, I can do that. No problem.”
Tracie unexpectantly felt happy that she could cheer Nathaniel even a little. It must have something to do with the mating bond.
“Well, I guess I should go. Here, let me have your cell so I can program my new cell number in case you need me for anything.”
“Sure,” Tracie said as she pulled her cell from her back pocket.
She handed Nathaniel her cell and watched him tapping away. Then she heard a chime.
“I added mine and then sent my phone a text, so I now have your number. Don’t forget to lock up after me. We live on pack land, but things can still happen just like anywhere else.”
“Okay. Thanks for everything, Nate. Have a good night, and I will see you Saturday,” Tracie said as she escorted him to the door.
Tracie locked the door after Nathaniel left. She always locked her door, even during the daylight. As a single gal, it was always better to be safe than sorry.
It was a lovely apartment. Tracie began unpacking and putting up little things to make it hers. Cute vases would need to be filled with flowers. Nate would hang the scenic paintings and pictures. She unpacked the box labeled bathroom next. The towels would need to be washed to get rid of the musty smell. She then unpacked her dishes, pots and pans, and the rest of her kitchen supplies.
By the time she was done unpacking her clothing and linens, she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. She yawned and decided to skip making the bed. She would just toss her quilt over herself, but first, a quick shower to wash off the grime of the day.
On Saturday, Nathaniel entered Tracie’s apartment to hang the pictures and other things she wanted to be hung. She put her own touches on the place. It was inviting. There were a few pieces of art and photos of friends leaning against spots on the wall. Those places must be where she wanted him to hang things.
After things were hung where Tracie wanted them, Nathaniel helped her move furniture and break down moving boxes.
“I ordered Chinese takeout from Sizzling Wok Cuisine,” Tracie said.
“That sounds great. Let me go wash up.”
Within a few minutes, the delivery man dropped off their dinner. They sat at the kitchen table to eat.
“So, Nate, everyone says that we are mates. I’ve talked to some shifters, but I want to know what being mates means to you.”
“Being mates isn’t something I take lightly. It takes trust and commitment. And, I, well, I fucked up a lot of things, but I’m trying to set it all right. It might take me a while.”
“I felt so lost and alone after you moved away when we graduated from college.”
There it was. The crushing guilt. He screwed up so badly.
“I’m sorry, Tracie. I know I didn’t handle things right; I was young and immature. I was afraid to get close to you because I wanted you to love me for me, not the mating bond. I was afraid my wolf would take you as its mate whether you loved me or not. I constantly felt my wolf snapping to get close to you. An accidental touch would turn into the desire for more than just a touch.”
“Do you regret your actions?”
“Yes, and no,” Nathaniel sighed. “Yes, because I did it wrong. If I’d just told you that we were mates, you would have known. You would have known that I would always be here for you.”
“I’m no good,” Nathaniel whispered. “I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“Shh,” Tracie said. “Yes, you do.”
“What, you’re going to tell me it’s okay to sabotage your dates?” he replied, suddenly angry.
“Of course not,” she replied. “Never. But forgiveness is possible. Self-forgiveness is possible.”
“How?”
“Slowly. By accepting that you were young. Stupid. You are a better and hopefully wiser person.”
Nathaniel hung his head. What Tracie said sounded right. Could it work? Could he forgive his younger self?
“Nate,”
Tracie said. Nathaniel looked up to face her. “You’re a good person. You made childish mistakes, but you were a child. You’re worthy of love. We all are.”
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
Something felt different. Not quite a weight lifting, but a weight being shared. For the first time, Nathaniel felt like maybe he could forgive himself. To love and be loved.
“Thank you,” Nathaniel said softly.
A month later.
She may have started out as their accountant, but she would learn how to use the tools to be a tattoo artist. She loved to draw and was damn good at it. How hard could it be to learn how to be a tattoo artist?
She did an internet search and was delighted to read that a tattoo artist did not need a college degree. However, she may want to take art courses to learn skills to help design and create better tattoos. She had taken a few art classes in high school and college as electives.
In fact, she was so keyed up when she reached her apartment that she decided to call her best friend Rosalie with the news.
“Hey, Tracie, what’s new?” Rosalie asked as she answered her cell phone.
“Rosalie, I’ve decided to become a tattoo artist!” Tracie said excitedly.
“Wow, that’s a huge change. What made you decide to become a tattoo artist?”
“I love to draw and took classes in high school as well as college. I’ve seen the guys working, and I have an itch to do it.”
“What did Stehn and Bruce say?”
“They want to see some of my artwork. If they like it, Stehn and Bruce will start having me, apprentice. I would take a month with each of the five artists. I’m so excited!”
“Well, girlie, we need to have a lady’s night out! Let me call Dixie and Lacey, and we’ll have them come next Friday night, and they can spend the night at Nate’s bed and breakfast,” Rosalie suggested.
“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.”
Just the thought of showing Stehn and Bruce her art made her belly tighten. She wasn’t a coward, but she had never shown anyone her art. Not even her besties at Shannon’s saw her art. She wasn’t quite ready for that. Her friends might say they were good because they were friends.
Tracie learned that she would have to apprentice with either Stehn or Bruce, learning art and technique and gaining experience from them. They were both talented and sought after by shifters all over California.
The next morning Tracie walked into Legacy Tattoo; the scent of ink and cleaners hung heavily in the air. She was greeted quickly by the receptionist.
“Nice to finally meet you, Tracie. I’m Melissa. Can I get you a coffee or water?”
“Nice to meet you, Melissa,” Tracie shook her offered hand. “Water would be great, thanks.”
“Sure, one moment,” Melissa said before turning around and bending over to open a small fridge that Tracie hadn’t noticed when she walked in.
“Thank you,” Tracie said as Melissa handed her the bottle of water.
“Stehn and Bruce will be with you momentarily. Just have a seat.”
Tracie sat in one of the padded seats and looked around. Her gaze traveled over the large shop noticing eight stations seated against the walls. The walls were adorned with artwork – photos, sketches, and paintings. She recognized Stehn and Bruce in some of the pictures and assumed the others were employees. Some photos were of the tattoo artists working on client’s bodies. Some seemed to be gatherings such as picnics and Christmas parties.
Stehn and Bruce came out of an office in the back of the room and walked to her.
“Come on back to our office, and we can talk about what you want as we look over your art,” Bruce said.
Tracie followed them through the room and into the office. She took a seat on the chair that they gestured for her to sit in. Stehn sat in the other chair in front of the desk while Bruce maneuvered himself behind the desk. She handed Bruce her portfolio when he held his hand out for it. She sat there nervously, waiting as he perused each image and then handed the portfolio over to Stehn.
Tracie was nervous. Watching Bruce and Stehn looking over her art was nerve-wracking. It was almost intimate. It’s like they could see into her soul. Inside the portfolio are drawings and sketches—some half-finished.
“These are very good, Tracie,” Bruce said.
“They aren’t anything special. Mainly, they are just homework from when I was in art classes,” Tracie said a bit modestly.
“I’ve seen school homework before,” Stehn said. “These are much better.”
Tracie blushed.
“Why don’t you watch us work today? Then we will talk at the end of the day to see if you are still interested. Okay?” Bruce offered.
“Sounds great.”
Thirty minutes later, Bruce’s client entered the studio.
“Milo, this is Tracie. She is going to apprentice. Do you mind her watching?” Bruce asked.
“Hey, nice to meet you, Tracie. No, I don’t mind her watching,” Milo replied.
Tracie watched as Milo removed his shirt and settled himself on the table belly side down. She watched Bruce’s hands move with steady, rhythmic motion, the figure of a fearsome devil comes to life. The colors were vividly rich and the lines bold, expressing incredible motion. The devil flies, his arms stretched out and fire rising from his hands, while Bruce wipes the blood away.
Tracie stood there, transfixed by the creation. She had seen some of his work hanging on the walls, but it was something else to see it being done. Her awe for the artform swelled the more she watched. Yes, she wanted to become a tattoo artist.
“Did you get a good look?” Stehn asked when Bruce was done.
“It’s beautiful.”
“That’s not usually the words our clients use, but yeah, I can see your point,” Stehn chuckled.
A week later.
Tracie flipped off the lights and locked the door behind her before glancing down the dark alley. She thought it was odd that the light was burnt out. It was working fine last light. When she reaches the bottom of the steps that lead to her apartment above the tattoo shop, her heart stops. Two guys were waiting there. One was leaning on the door, and the other bent over the railing.
They looked pissed.
“Something I can help you with?” Tracie asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.
The men stood from their relaxing stances. Tracie noticed that their hands tightened into fists. They began to descend the steps, and she turned to run. Coming up behind her were two more men. They were extremely tall and muscular. She thought they must be shifters. Were these the men that Nate had warned her about?
Someone shoved her from behind, causing her to let out a startled yelp. She caught her balance and was relieved she hadn’t fallen. Adrenaline spiked through her veins, and her muscles clenched. She knew how to defend herself, but no human could go up against one shifter, let alone four.
“What do you want with me?”
“Just come with us quietly, and you won’t be hurt,” one of the men said.
“Go away.”
The tallest one lunged for her, and she moved, trying to avoid him. Someone grabbed her from behind, holding her tight.
“Let’s get her into her apartment and call Creed.”
“Check her purse for her key.”
“Got it.”
Once the men had her door open, the shifter holding her picked her up like she was a sack of potatoes and carried her inside. He dumped her onto the couch. Tracie looked around, trying to find a way to escape. Her home was supposed to be her safe haven. Ice coursed through her veins as her stomach twisted. How could she feel safe here after they invaded her sanctuary?
“What do we do?”
“I’ll call Creed,” the tallest shifter said as he pulled a cell phone from his back pocket.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Tracie said.
“Fine, but remember, shifters have excellent hearing. We can hear if you try to escape.”
>
Tracie stood and made her way down the short hall to the bathroom. Now that she was away from them, she could think. First, she had to take care of her immediate need to relieve herself. She really had to use the bathroom. Too bad there wasn’t a window in the bathroom. Maybe if she could make it to her bedroom, she could sneak out through that window.
Tracie slowly opened the bathroom door, praying they wouldn’t hear her. She knew shifters had better hearing than humans, but maybe she could make it without them hearing her. She looked toward her bedroom and was delighted that she had left the door open. She slowly crept the few feet toward her bedroom and slipped inside.
Tracie felt a thrill rise inside of her as she neared her bedroom window. Just as she reached her had to open the window, she heard the door crash open and screamed out. Before the scream died down, she was tackled to the floor.
“I told you we could hear everything,” the shifter growled in her ear.
He grabbed Tracie by the back of her neck and dragged her down the short hall back into the living room while she furiously kicked and clawed, trying to get away.
After he tossed her onto the sofa, she scrambled to her feet and tried to dash for the door. One of the men beat her to the door blocking her exit. She frantically looked for something to use as a weapon—anything to temporarily distract them so she could get away. Someone came up behind her, and she smelled something sweet before darkness engulfed her.
***
Something had awakened him from his deep sleep. Nathaniel pushed himself to a sitting position trying to figure out what woke him when his cell phone rang again. He reached for his phone that was on the charger on the nightstand.
“Lexi?” Lexi hardly ever called him; this couldn’t be good. “What’s going on?”
“Tracie’s missing,” panic laced her voice.
Nathaniel’s blood turned to ice, and his heart stopped. No, not Tracie. Not when they were still working on a relationship.
“Start from the beginning,”
