I'll Be Dammed

by Mandy Rosko

  If she sensed the lie, she didn’t call him on it. She only nodded.

  “Let’s go. Let’s see what the doctor has to say.” He stood then held out his hands to her.

  He wanted to say there was no part of him that was worried she wouldn’t take it, but that wouldn’t have been the truth.

  He was pants-pissing scared she wouldn’t reach for him.

  So when she did take his hands, her delicate hands sliding into his, reminding him of how vulnerable she was, Albert gripped them tight.

  He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her ever again.

  Six

  They headed to the closest hospital that catered to shifters. It accepted non-shifter patients as well so it could keep its cover, but it did a good job of making it difficult for non-shifters to get in. They had a reputation for having long waitlists and even longer walk-in times, which meant most mundanes went elsewhere.

  If you were a shifter, though, you got right in.

  Beverly was glad to have strangers running her CT scan and MRI. She’d felt a kinship with Nolan, and now that she knew the big secret, she wouldn’t have been able to overlook the pitying glances he’d give her during the tests.

  A kind doctor did her sexual assault exam, but they knew going into it that it was unlikely they’d find any evidence. Too much time had passed for DNA evidence to remain, plus she’d been in the water enough to wash anything remaining away. Then there was the fact that shifters healed quickly, so any tears or abrasions were long gone.

  It made her hope that there was still a chance, still some small flicker of a dream that there was something alive and growing inside her, something that was hers.

  But there was nothing in there.

  And the emptiness came back and gutted her.

  Her baby was gone.

  Worse than that, it was gone and she hadn’t known it was missing for the days she’d spent dicking around in the woods, making her den as though she were preparing for winter.

  And she hated that so much. She hated that she couldn’t even remember her own child, even after Albert told her about it.

  She only remembered the feeling of it being there, the hope for its future, and now that she knew it was gone...

  She wasn’t going to cry. It was done, and it was over. The only thing she had to do now was find the person responsible and make them pay.

  They left the clinic. Albert took care of most of the paperwork. She couldn’t even let herself feel bad about that because everything was suddenly getting to her. Everything felt so much heavier now than it had when Albert first showed her the house they had shared.

  She crossed her arms, stopping by the car just as Albert unlocked the doors for them to get in. “I want to kill them.”

  He looked at her. “I know you do.”

  “No, I mean it. I want to kill them. All of them. Every single person involved who did this to me.” Heat rose up inside her. In that moment, she wished that she could turn into an oversized saber-toothed beaver just so she could rampage. “I don’t just want to kill them. I want to make them suffer. For days if I have to!”

  Albert rushed to the other side of the car. He wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders, pulling her into him, and for the first time in what seemed like a long time, Beverly was calmed by his presence.

  Somewhat. She couldn’t seem to make her body stop shaking. The rage, the intensity of her hatred for whoever had done this to her, attacked the FUCN’A, destroyed their equipment, and tried to take cadets, and take her, for their experiments.

  “Promise me.” Her words were barely a whisper, lest she lose control and start to shout.

  “Promise you what?” Somehow, she got the feeling he didn’t need to ask. That he already knew.

  “Promise you’ll help me get them. I don’t care what the protocol is, that I was the victim of this or that you’re my mate—”

  “I promise,” Albert said quickly. “I swear to fucking God they’re not getting away with this.”

  She looked up at him. She could see it in his eyes.

  He wasn’t placating her. He meant every word, and he was going to pull through on his promise.

  No bullshit.

  She kissed him.

  It had felt romantic and spur of the moment to grab his ears and yank his wide-eyed face down so their mouths crushed together in the back parking lot of the clinic.

  But as good as it had felt, all the kissing in the world, regardless of how hot the man she was doing it with, wasn’t going to hold back that darkness that still loomed over her.

  Which was a shame. She felt the tension in Albert’s body, the heat that simmered within those powerful muscles and within his cock...

  She couldn’t.

  “I think we need to sleep on this.”

  Albert chuckled. “I figured.”

  Why was he being so good about it? She could tell he wanted her. She could see the outline of his erection.

  Kissing her had done that to him.

  At least now she had her answer that he still wanted her, despite what had happened to her.

  But...

  “Can’t you try and pressure me at least a little bit here?”

  “Nope. Not until you let me know you want it.”

  “I want it right now.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  She glared up at him. “How do you know that?”

  Those eyes flashed. She could almost see him as being a wise owl in that moment.

  “I can tell every time you want me. I can tell you want me even when you’re saying no, and I can tell when you don’t want me even when you’re saying yes. I can tell, and I’m not going to touch you unless you mean it. Not even to make you forget.”

  Beverly pressed her forehead to his chest. “Because I forgot too much already?”

  He rubbed her arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  She nodded. Then she thought of something. “Are you a mind reader or something?”

  He barked a short laugh. “God, no. Nothing like that.”

  “But you read me so well.”

  “Not all the time. Sometimes you need to give me a bit of a kick in the head to get the message across, but other times...I know when you’re not exactly enthusiastic about something.”

  And this was apparently one of those times.

  And he was right. Beverly wanted to fuck, not because she was reunited with her husband but because she wanted the sweet pleasure and the high that came with an orgasm. She wanted him to make her forget all about what had happened to her.

  She had spent so little time aware of who she was, and now she was trying to forget again.

  She supposed she couldn’t blame him for turning her down.

  “I’m not turning you down.”

  Beverly rolled her eyes. “You sure you’re not a mind reader?”

  She pushed away from him before he could follow up with something, opening the passenger side door. “Let's get out of here.”

  Albert hesitated but then went around to his side of the car.

  There wasn’t much said between them on the ride back, though Beverly could feel all the questions he wanted to ask her.

  Namely about her emotional wellbeing. Regardless, he didn’t say anything, and she was glad for that. It was kind of comfortable. There was a familiarity to it that she enjoyed, that he knew her well enough to know when he needed to ask after her emotional state and when not to.

  And right now, she needed the blissful silence of the car ride.

  Back home, Albert offered her the bedroom, which meant she was going to be sleeping in it alone.

  She didn’t like that either, but maybe he was right. Sex when she didn’t even really want to connect with her partner wasn’t the answer. She might look at him differently if he gave in and gave her what she wanted in the moment.

  Climbing the stairs, Beverly glanced back down at him. He waited at the foot of the steps. “Are you going to be here in the
morning?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She didn’t know what prompted her to ask it, but she let the words come out anyway. “Will you make me scrambled eggs tomorrow?”

  He grinned up at her. “With more cheese than eggs? Sure thing.”

  “And red peppers?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She got the feeling that was something she asked him for a lot, and it was another thing she was pleased about.

  If only it was enough to make her forget about what she’d lost.

  Somehow, he definitely made her feel better.

  Not completely better, just enough that Beverly felt she could sleep that night.

  The school was being attacked.

  A siren sounded. A robotic voice over the intercom announced: “This is not a drill.”

  No shit, it wasn’t a drill. Not when the smoke bombs went off.

  Beverly had three students who’d froze, a look of panic in their eyes that suggested they were realizing they weren’t cut out for this kind of work. She’d been so sure the tough-talking lion shifter would rise to the top.

  Instead, she trembled like a leaf.

  One of the others was having some sort of allergic reaction to the smoke. He choked and coughed and scratched at his neck. Beverly herded him over to one of the science lab sinks and stuck his head under the tap before turning it on.

  “Breathe, come on, breathe. You’re all right. In and out. Take a drink when you need to.” She patted his back to try to add to his relief.

  “Can we get out through the windows?” the lion shifter asked, nervously looking between the windows and the door.

  “What the fuck is going on? The academy is supposed to be secure!” Student number two had a shrill edge to her voice, and Beverly had to shoot her a warning look.

  The lion shifter was wringing her hands. “We’ll be fine. This is just a drill. They’re tricking us. It’s just a drill, right, Mrs. Huntley?”

  They were looking at her as though she were going to protect them.

  None of them knew she couldn’t shift.

  “The three of you are going to stay in here. Open the windows.”

  “You’re not supposed to open the windows in the event of a fire,” Whiney Student Two tried to interject.

  “It’s not a fire. Open the damned windows.”

  They might be scared and totally about to flunk out of FUCN’A, but they did as they were told.

  The science room had mostly escaped the smog unscathed, but it was still pouring in through the cracks around and above the door, rushing to the ceiling. She didn’t want it gathering too much in there.

  “All right, you all watch out for each other. I’ll be back.” Albert would murder her if he knew what she was about to do.

  “Where are you going?” asked the lion girl.

  Beverly moved to the far wall, first. The framed poster slid easily out of the way with her thumbprint, revealing a glass casing with multiple weapons inside.

  She punched in her key code, opened the case, and grabbed for the handgun.

  “All of you, get over here.”

  The male by the sink tried to do as she commanded, but she pointed her finger at him sharply. “Not you. Stay right there and puke up everything you need to.”

  He nodded, green around the gills, his expression disappointed, but understanding, and maybe even a little relieved as he went back to gagging over the sink.

  “Do we get one of those?”

  “No.”

  Had they shown better control in the emergency situation, she might have handed over any of the remaining weapons in the case, but she didn’t want them shooting themselves. There was nothing more dangerous than a gun in the hands of someone who was a little too twitchy.

  Of course they bitched at her about it as she locked the case back up, but she ignored them.

  Too damned bad. Just because she couldn’t shift didn’t mean she couldn’t take care of business.

  Beverly returned to the door, unlocking it.

  “You all stay in here and wait for help to arrive. Don’t try jumping out the window. I don’t want any of you breaking your necks.”

  The sounds of shouting and a few gunshots popped outside. Far enough away that she could get out and slink around without being noticed.

  Beverly lifted her shirt up and over her nose, unlocking the door. Her heart raced, but she could still think, still focus.

  Just like she’d been trained.

  “Lock it behind me,” she said then ducked out and ran toward the fight.

  No sooner did she leave the science room than an explosion rocked the building.

  Seven

  Beverly opened her eyes. Despite the dream, she woke up easily, peacefully.

  The smell of bacon downstairs probably had something to do with it.

  Was that...just a dream? What she imagined had happened? Or was that actually what happened?

  If it were the truth, it meant she had run out into the fight while pregnant. That she had basically thrown herself into the arms of the enemy and been captured...

  No.

  Even if that was the way things went down, there was no way in hell she was taking responsibility for what some other asshole had done to her. Beverly sat up in bed and let her hands slide over her belly.

  “Wish I could remember you better.” She looked down at herself, wishing her shifter healing hadn’t erased all traces of having ever been pregnant at all.

  Albert had been right. Sleeping on the information had helped. She still had little memory of her past self, but she was at least better at digesting what had happened to her.

  The night before, she’d been almost on autopilot. She opened the right drawers to find sleep clothes and towels then enjoyed a nice hot shower before falling into bed.

  Refreshed now, she decided to poke around a little more in the morning light. She checked the closet first. It was a big one, encompassing almost the entire wall. She pulled open one side of the sliding doors.

  Definitely men’s clothes in there. Button-downs, a leather jacket, some jeans and dress pants. A pair of slippers and maybe three ties.

  Nice and neat.

  She checked the other side and nearly fell back a step.

  The shoes alone made her gasp. There were at least twenty pairs of them, set up on a rack at the bottom of the closet, and a few shoeboxes she could see on the shelves. She assumed those were the more expensive pairs.

  She counted at least five pairs of flip-flops, three pairs of house slippers, four ankle boots, two knee-length boots, and three, no, four pairs of runners.

  That was just what she could see without digging.

  Yeah, she definitely had more than twenty pairs of shoes.

  She barely wanted to look at the clothes that were hanging, but she was curious, so she did.

  Beverly flipped through the shirts and dresses hanging on the rack. The more she looked at them, the more pleased and proud she became. She found a drawer full of fancy panties and bras, not the simple cotton boy shorts she’d found in a drawer near her pajamas.

  She liked the lacy sort of bras, it seemed. Made sense. They made her feel good to look at them, so Beverly did a little more digging. She found matching lacy thongs and a few fun-looking nighties that likely weren’t used for sleeping.

  How many times had Albert enjoyed taking those off of her?

  How many times had she used them to entice him?

  A quick think about that told her not too many times. It was another one of those pieces of information that made too much sense the minute she thought of it. These were for special occasions. She didn’t need to tempt Albert to bed; he was always more than willing to come to her on his own or to agree to a sexy snuggle the instant she so much as hinted at it.

  Last night was a different occasion.

  Which was why she stripped off her bralette and pajamas and put on one of the lacy bras with her cotton boy shorts.
This was what he was most used to seeing her in.

  A quick trip to the bathroom included brushing away her morning breath and trying to style her chopped-up hair. She made a mental note that she needed to go to a hairdresser and see what they could do with it, but all in all, it really didn’t look too terrible. It was kind of punk, and she felt like that fit her.

  There was a body spray in the bathroom, on the side of the sink with all the women’s products. It was definitely the more cluttered, although organized, side.

  She took a quick sniff of the body spray, wondering why she would have something like that since shifters had such sensitive noses. Most of them went scent-free; she remembered that.

  But this was a light scent. Nothing strong enough to give anyone a headache over. It smelled like fresh air and flowers. The label even read all-natural.

  One tiny spray was enough. Anything more than that and she was playing with fire, but it was another thing that felt good and normal to her routine. She took one last glance at herself in the mirror, adjusting her bra to give her boobs the best amount of lift, then made her way downstairs.

  He was down there all right, stuffing thick bread into the toaster while the bacon popped and sizzled in the pan. He moved quickly, coffee mugs already out, but he hadn’t put the pods into the coffee machine yet.

  Beverly watched him from the bottom of the stairs, her hands on the rail.

  The way he moved, the way he smelled, all of it so right and good. She wanted him. She wanted herself and her memories back, but more than that, she wanted his touch.

  Even if she never fully remembered everything, having his hands on her seemed like the answer to all her questions.

  He must have known that, too, because she didn’t have to say a word for him to know she was right there. His back still to her, Albert looked up and away from the pan of frying bacon. He turned back and looked at her.

  There was definitely something different in those big eyes of his compared to yesterday.

  He looked hungry, and not just because he had an amazing feast going on behind him.