Pack of Freaks: Beasts Among Us - Book 2

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Pack of Freaks: Beasts Among Us - Book 2 Page 16

by Jennifer Zamboni

“Sounds like a plan.” Doug smiled at me, then grabbed my hand, pulled me off balance and onto his lap.

  I let him, then kissed him back when he tilted my chin up, reveling in the warmth of his love that spread through me.

  Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from my beau. I stood, leaned down, and kissed him once more.

  “I’ll let you get back to your book. We can talk about my finances and motorcycle after dinner, all right?” I headed for the door.

  “Sure. Oh, hey, did you get ahold of a metal detector?” He stopped me.

  “Yeah, I borrowed one from Scott. The bike was across the street from his apartment. I’ll tell you all about it later, all right?”

  “Sure,” he said again.

  “Good. I love you.” I let the unfamiliar words roll off my tongue, and I had to admit, they felt pretty great.

  “I love you too,” he replied.

  I closed the door behind me before I had the chance to read his expression, but I’m pretty sure it was shock and surprise.

  After such a day, I was up for a night out with the boys, which now included Doug. I called Mark, who I hoped would call the other guys in turn. I had my doubts that Scott wanted to talk to me right at that moment.

  “Hey, man, I’m needing a night out with my boys, you interested? Wives and girlfriends invited, of course,” I said as soon as Mark answered speed dial number four.

  One was the house, two was Percy, three Lacey-Marie, and four was Mark. Other than that, no more speed dial as of the present.

  “Sounds like a plan. I just need to check with my girl, make sure she doesn’t have any plans for us tonight,” his voice issued over the line.

  “Awesome. Do you think you can call the boys for me? Scott and I aren’t really seeing eye to eye as of this afternoon.”

  “Yeah, I can do that. What did he do this time?”

  “Scott? Nothing, I’ll explain later.”

  “A’ight, Gretch. I’ll text you.”

  “’Kay.” I pressed the disconnect button and tucked it back into my bra.

  I figured I might as well invite the girls, but I had to let Doug know my plans too.

  I knocked on his door again and went in without waiting for an answer.

  He was still in his chair, staring absently out the window instead of his open book.

  “What’s up?” he asked, keeping his gaze glued on the view.

  “Not much, just wanted to let you know that I was going out tonight, and I’d like you to join me if you can. I’m inviting the guys and the girls as well.”

  “All right.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He’d seemed fine, just minutes before.

  He looked up at me. “Nothing, just thinking.”

  “About what?” I planted myself in front of him, leaning my knees against his.

  He reached out and rested his hands on my hips. “This whole pack alpha thing. I’m not ready for it.”

  “If you don’t want me to go get the girl, I won’t—”

  “No, it’s not that, I think we should check it out. It’s just so sudden. And I’m so unprepared. I don’t know anything about being an alpha.”

  “I thought we established that we were going to do that together. I don’t really know what I’m doing either. I’ve never formally been part of a pack. We can blunder together.”

  He smiled weakly, apparently unconvinced.

  “We’ll be all right. We can do this.” I paused, leaning in to rest my hands on his shoulders. “A night out will do us good. Escape from all of this for a few hours.”

  He nodded.

  “Good.” I leaned in to kiss his cheek, then let myself out.

  Again, I interrupted the sanctity of the salon, but with much more welcome tidings.

  “I’m going out tonight, any of you ladies care to join me?” I interjected as soon as there was a lull in the conversation.

  “I’ll be opting out,” said Percy, as she usually did when asked to the bar.

  “I’m game,” said Amanda.

  “It’s up to Fern, I rode in with her,” said Meredith.

  “Okay, I’ll go ask Toni and Fern what their plans are. See you ladies later!” I headed out back to the little cubbyhole that served as Toni’s nail room.

  She was bent over a manicure table, painting minuscule jack-o’-lanterns on a teenage girl’s acrylic nails.

  “Just a moment, Gretchen,” Toni muttered, painting a triangular eyeball on a bright orange pumpkin.

  “There,” she said, straightening and admiring her handiwork. “Now what can I do for ya, hun?”

  “Just wanted to invite you out tonight. I’m heading there with the band, and some of the girls.” I leaned against the doorway and crossed my arms over my rib cage.

  “Not tonight. One of the chilluns has a project due tomorrow, and I promised to help out.” She bent back over the nails, bending the hand gently this way and that to make sure everything was perfectly even.

  “That might be important. If you finish at a decent hour, feel free to come out and join us still.”

  “Will do!”

  I left her to her Halloween flavored manicure and headed to Fern’s quiet, dark, slightly too warm massage room, hoping that she didn’t have a client on the table.

  The door was cracked, so I assumed not.

  Fern was sitting on the edge of her massage table, swinging her legs back and forth, and staring at the clock.

  “Did my appointment decide to show up?” she asked me, disgruntled.

  “Uh, not that I know of. I just wanted to invite you to the bar tonight.”

  “Sounds great, if I can talk Meredith into going.”

  “She said it depended on you, as you were her ride today.”

  She hopped down from the table. “Then probably.”

  “Good, see ya later.”

  “No, don’t leave me!” Fern pleaded jokingly, grabbing for my arm.

  “Gotta go!”

  “Fine, be that way.” She stuck her lip out at me, then glanced at the clock again. “People could at least call if they weren’t going to make an appointment. That’s my second one today.”

  I gave her a sympathetic nod, leaving her to her mutterings and clock watching, and headed out to my truck to grab the metal detector out of the bed.

  There was a button that I could only assume was an on/off switch, so I pressed it and swept it back and forth experimentally over the ground. I tugged the headphones that were plugged into it on over my ears and hoped the volume was on low. The last thing I needed was to go temporarily deaf due to high-pitched squeals. To test it, I grabbed a quarter out of my truck ashtray, dropped it on the ground, and swept the detector over it. It beeped excitedly, telling me that, yes, there was metal to be found, wasn’t it a stupendous little piece of equipment?

  I tugged the headphones down, so that they rested around my neck, and hiked toward the woods.

  The area where Doug and I had had our little scuffle still bore evidence of what had happened there, with broken branches and trampled underbrush. I pulled the headphones back up to listen while I cased out the area, sweeping the detector back and forth over an unseen grid pattern I pictured in my mind’s eye. I planned to go over every spare centimeter of wood until I found it.

  I was determined to wear it to the bar, even if it wouldn’t be wise to wear it after that. I didn’t want to lose it again. I might be able to plunk my money down on whatever the hell I wanted, but Doug had spent almost every penny he had on that ring. He deserved better than having me lose it on the first day.

  To and fro, back and forth, up and down. Every inch of my mental grid got inspected until finally: BEEP BEEP BEEP! I found it loudly and obnoxiously.

  I couldn’t see it, stuffed under some old pine needles as it was, but I swept over the spot where I got the beep and was assaulted by the piercing reprimand once more. I knelt on the needle-covered ground and dug my hand around until my fingertips landed on cold metal.

&n
bsp; I picked up the ring, lifting it close to my lips, and blew off some imaginary debris. I inspected it, making sure no real harm had come to the beautiful, and appreciated, piece of jewelry.

  Upon finding no blemish, I placed the diamond on the ring finger of my left hand and lifted it aloft to admire it.

  Now to avoid losing it again. I convinced myself that I could manage such an easy task, and so hefted the metal detector up over my shoulder, and headed back for the truck.

  The parking lot had emptied quite a bit since I’d made my departure that afternoon. It must have been drawing close to closing time.

  I settled the piece of borrowed equipment back into my truck bed, blew my new bike a kiss, and headed inside.

  The girls were finishing up their last cuts of the day and cashing clients out, so I waited quietly behind the counter, trying to look like I belonged there.

  I would much rather have been on the floor working for real, but it seemed that at least for the time being, my sudden bad reputation was going to hinder my career in a major way.

  When the place finally emptied out, I cleared my throat. “Ahhahem!”

  The girls turned towards me.

  “Yes, what is it this time, Gretchen?”

  I could tell that Percy was feeling frustrated with me and my day full of outbursts.

  “I found my ring.” I stuck out my left hand to better display Doug’s visible mark on me.

  “Oh wow, that’s gorgeous, Gretch.” Amanda grabbed my hand, turning it this way and that, making my ring catch the light.

  The girls all gathered around me, each trying to get a grip on my hand so they could each get as close a look as possible on the merchandise.

  “Okay, okay, show’s over, chickies.” I reclaimed my hand and stuck it behind my back, where it was immediately grabbed again.

  I spun around and found that it was Hades giving my hand a critical inspection.

  “It’ll do,” said Hades haughtily.

  “It’s perfect, Hades.” I snatched my hand back from him, surprised at his attitude.

  Usually, Hades came off as a pretty understanding kind of guy. Teach me to judge the god of the dead.

  Hades just shrugged his shoulders and continued on out back.

  Gods.

  I bet he’d gotten a goose egg-sized rock for Percy when they got married. Of course, diamonds weren’t in vogue back then, so it might have been a piece of string. I couldn’t recall what Percy actually wore on her ring finger, which led me to believe she probably just wore a wedding band. That she had probably purchased.

  The Hades from the myths wasn’t exactly a guy of romantic gestures, and that’s all I really knew of him: the myths.

  “Well anyways, see some of you out and about tonight.” I turned, seeking escape.

  I wanted a somewhat relaxing night out, instead of a festive one. I knew celebration would probably ensue, but really, I just wanted to hang out.

  I needed to change my clothes. After grubbing around in the woods looking for my ring, I’m sure I wasn’t spectacularly clean. In fact, a shower was definitely in order.

  I took the main stairs two at a time and turned down the left wing in hopes of finding my bedroom.

  I tried the last door on the right-hand side of the hallway and got a dark room. Lacey-Marie’s again. I get that the house had figured out that I was speaking to her again, but really, I didn’t want to go into all that pink froufrou and find out what other delinquent behaviors my former best friend could have been involved in.

  I’m not a pink kinda gal.

  I made a mental note to clean out the room of Lacey-Marie paraphernalia, at some point.

  I backed away from the door, shut it, and opened it quickly, hoping that the house would give me what I wanted.

  No such luck. Pink frou.

  I let loose a low growl and moved on to the door across the hall.

  Bathroom.

  Next door, closet.

  Come on, really? Really?! “I just want my bedroom,” I grumbled at a blank wall, then turned around to try door number four.

  Bingo, bedroom.

  It was somewhat cleaner than I had left it, which was fine by me, as I hadn’t been looking forward to the neatening process. Some people are naturally neat, I am not one of them.

  I picked one of my favorite black T-shirts from a stack of clean clothes next to my dressing room, sniffed its laundry freshness, and tossed it on my bed. There weren’t any pants in the piles, so that meant I’d actually have to look. I opened the closet door and beheld the mess the house had thus far refused to neaten up.

  Most piles in my bedroom it would at least get organized, but it absolutely refused to touch the stuff in my closet. Maybe it was respecting my privacy, but I think it just didn’t want to deal with me.

  My dresser drawers were open with clothes spilling out. Hey, at least they’re clean, right? I yanked one drawer farther open and grabbed a pair of dark wash jeans. Red underwear and bra out of the top drawers (must match) and socks from another.

  Good enough for me. I took a quick shower, and dressed in my dark ensemble, and hunted for my new boots, which were hiding together under my bed. Not often did I find two shoes together.

  Then there was the matter of my hair. I could be my own best or worst advertising. I loaded up my curls with straightening cream and attacked it with brush and blow-dryer. Then fried it into sleek submission with an overly toasty flat iron. I squeezed a puddle of silk drops in my palm, rubbed my hands together, then ran them through my ends. I finished by shoving a dozen or so bobby pins into my back pocket. I was feeling anti-ponytail at the moment, so bobby pins were taking over my life.

  I kept my face relatively bare, swiping on eyeliner, mascara, and adding a tube of lip balm to my pocket.

  A once over in my full-length mirror behind the door and I declared myself passable. After 100 years, who really cared, beyond the fun of it all?

  For most people, dinner is a good idea before an alcohol outing, to keep from getting drunk too quickly. But as alcohol needs to be present in massive quantities in my system for me even to get a buzz, that wasn’t a problem. However, if I didn’t eat, it was much more likely I’d literally bite someone’s head off. I filled up and went to say hi to Caleb, who was still stuck in my changing room.

  We spent a few minutes making faces at each other, killing time before it was time to go. I had a feeling the poor kid was bored silly. I couldn’t imagine that he found hanging out all by himself in a tank all that stimulating. Made me wonder if he really was simple, or if he just didn’t get out much. Or ever.

  I glanced up at the wall clock and was surprised by how much time had passed, time to go hunt down Doug and leave.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, meeting me just outside the kitchen.

  “Hey, are you ready to go?” I checked my pockets for money and pulled out a 20. It had probably been through the wash as it had some crisp lines folded into it.

  “What are we taking?” he asked.

  “Well, I guess we can take my truck—”

  “But you’d rather take out the new bike.” He interrupted me with my immediate deepest wish.

  “Yeah, do you mind?” I was a little anxious not to make him more upset about the whole thing.

  “I guess not. I’m taking the truck then?” He sounded less than thrilled at the prospect of driving alone to and from the bar.

  “You can ride my other bike,” I suggested.

  “I don’t have a motorcycle license.”

  “Don’t get pulled over.” I thought it was the obvious answer, but apparently Doug didn’t agree, because he was frowning and shaking his head.

  “Percy!” I shrieked.

  The kitchen door opened, and she stuck her head out. “Stop yelling. What do you need?”

  I reached into Doug’s back pocket, forgoing his permission to do so, pulled out his wallet, and yanked out his license.

  “Can you glamour this to give him motorcycle priv
ileges, I mean until we can get it official, not permanently.”

  There was a frown on Percy’s face as well. She liked most things to be legal. Or at least appear that way; usually, she seemed to figure the rules applied to everyone but her.

  “Fine, but you make sure you get the real deal ASAP.” She took the card from my grip, concentrated, and handed it back.

  Most people expect a light show when magic is being performed, but as we’d both seen what she could do, Percy didn’t bother.

  I took the card back and handed it and the wallet back to Doug. “There ya go, all legal. Ish. Just don’t give the cops any reason to actually enter your information into the system. You’ll be fine.” I patted his arm. “Let’s get going. I’ve got to show off my pretty new ring.” And my shiny new bike.

  Probably best not to add that bit out loud for a while.

  “You found it!” Doug threw his arms around me and kissed my temple, before taking my hand and smoothing his thumb over the piece of jewelry.

  “I did.” I raised that hand and touched his bearded cheek, before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

  Stepping away, I procured the keys to both bikes and handed Doug the old set.

  “Helmets?” He crossed his arms and waited.

  “What for?” I didn’t own a helmet.

  “We can still die, can’t we?”

  He had a point, if only a small one.

  “Well, yes, but we’d have to get some serious damage, like drive through a steel building and get shards of it stuck through our skulls. In which case, helmets wouldn’t do a hell of a lot of good. Come on, the night is a-wastin’.” I swung my leg over the bike and started her up, reveling in the sound of the engine.

  I extended the key out to Doug again, which he grabbed, still with a frown.

  If he was determined to be miserable about everything, I’d just have to ignore him. I revved my engine, trying to draw a smile out. Nothing. I had to make due with my own. I picked my feet up, gunned it out of the driveway, and out onto the empty road.

  It was a short, euphoric drive to the bar. Doug stuck close behind me, probably not enjoying himself quite as much.

  I turned off the engine, locked it, and turned to him while running fingers through my loose, tangled hair, trying to make order of it before going inside. I could have tied it up, but that would have defeated all that time I had spent with my flat iron.

 

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