Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  He figured she’d flinch back in the face of his anger, but she didn’t so much as blink. “Hey. This is how it’s done. I’m sorry if you don’t have the stomach for it.” She didn’t look or sound particularly sorry as she glared at him.

  His next question sickened him, but he had to ask. “Does she know? Were you doing this together?”

  Only then did apprehension touch her eyes, drawing her brows together. “No. She doesn’t know. And all it would do if you told her would be to upset her more. I told her way back that there were certain things I was going to have to do, and she might not like them, but I would always deliver results. And I have. I took a situation that left her shaken up and feeling used and I spun it into something else.”

  “Yeah, speculation that she had something to do with Bergman’s death. Congratulations, you’re doing a great job.”

  “Like I said,” she hissed, “I had no idea he would end up dead. Everybody knows she didn’t do it.”

  “No, they think she had somebody do it for her. God, are you so dense that you can’t see this? Stop thinking of her career for a minute, about your job, and start thinking about what this means to her as a person, not your piggy bank, not a meal ticket. An actual person is going to have to live with the memories of this. Have a little compassion, at least.”

  “I’ll be more careful from now on. I can promise you that much.” She sounded shaken up again, the way she had before she took an ego trip on him. He decided he could believe her, though she would need watching, and he made a mental note to let the guys know.

  But she couldn’t be with them all the time. And if he asked her to stick around, to stay in the house, she would know something was up.

  He remembered something else before he left her there with her coffee. “And by the way, you might not want to use Lola’s number anytime soon, not when it comes to being concerned about Serenity.”

  “What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What did she do?”

  “You mean who did she do? You better stop calling Ben, too.” He left her with that, letting it sink in without his help. Her gasp of shock, coming after he’d already turned his back and left the room, told him she hadn’t known. Why would she bother acting surprised?

  Serenity had gotten up and gone outside while he was in the kitchen, and he was glad. He wanted to talk privately with her, something that wouldn’t be possible now that Melody was there. There had to be a way they could make sense of what had just happened and what it meant.

  No, he wouldn’t tell her about the wolf. They weren’t at that point yet, though they would have to be before long. He didn’t want to lead her on. He wouldn’t let her think he was one thing, wait until she had fallen for him, and then confess to being something else. Only desperate, pathetic people did things like that. Weak people, small people.

  The scientists who’d altered his DNA hadn’t altered his character. He wasn’t that sort of person. Even in the middle of the cesspool that was Hollywood, California, he had to act with integrity.

  Not to mention the fact that she’d managed to work her way into his heart. It wasn’t just a matter of lust; he knew that now. And it wasn’t some animal thing, some primal need he had to fill.

  It was a mixture of everything, all of it at once. The wolf’s instincts, his urges. His human heart, his emotions. She was strong yet tender, beautiful but wounded, searingly brilliant and touchingly innocent.

  She was everything he ever wanted, even though he hadn’t ever put words to his desires because he hadn’t known they existed in human form until now, until her.

  How was he supposed to tell her that? He didn’t know the words to explain what she’d come to mean to him, and the last thing he wanted was for her to think what had just taken place meant nothing. It meant everything, and if Melody hadn’t come in when she had, things might’ve gone a lot further.

  No, there was no doubt about it. They would have. He might have sealed their fate, might have lost control to the wolf.

  If only for that reason, he was glad Melody had shown up when she did. She had spared them both from taking a step they couldn’t come back from.

  “Everything okay in there?” Serenity asked, looking at him over her shoulder. The breeze stirred tendrils of hair around her face, teasing them free from the ponytail she’d gathered her wild mass of curls into.

  “Oh, sure. Everything’s fine. I just had to clear up a few things with her. Including keeping certain situations and developments to herself rather than broadcasting them to the world.”

  “Maybe she’ll listen to you. God knows she never listens to me.” She turned back toward the hills, arms wrapped around her middle.

  How could he start this? What could he say? He searched his thoughts, his feelings, wondering if he was about to make a total mess of what was already messy enough.

  She spared him. “Listen. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything. I’m not a little kid. I stopped being a little kid a long time ago.”

  She couldn’t have surprised him more if she hit him with a truck. “What? What are you saying?”

  “I’m only saying that I know you’re a nice guy, and I don’t want you to feel bad about what happened just now. Obviously, I’m going to be attracted to you. I’m only sorry I threw myself at you like I did. What were you supposed to do? Obviously, you’re going to react like any man would.”

  It was like they were having a conversation about two different things. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh? That’s fine. We can pretend it didn’t happen if that’s how you want it.”

  “No! Jesus Christ, give me a second. That’s not what I’m trying to say. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “Sorry.” She looked his way from the corner of her eye. “Please. Go ahead.”

  The problem was he barely remembered what he wanted to say before she completely mixed him up. Did she want to forget about what just happened? Did it really not mean anything to her? Was she that jaded?

  Or was she only protecting herself? Maybe that was it. She’d been burned too many times—most recently, earlier that very same day. Of course, she wouldn’t want to take a chance this soon. If anything, he owed her an apology.

  “I don’t want to pretend like nothing ever happened,” he murmured, staring out over the hills the way she was. The sun’s light was amber, turning everything to gold. It was almost heartbreakingly beautiful—just like the girl standing next to him, someone he wished he had the guts to reach out and take in his arms. It seemed that no matter how brave a man thought he was, it was that moment, that do or die situation, that showed him what he was really made of.

  He wasn’t half as brave as he used to believe.

  “Okay. I don’t want that, either,” she agreed.

  “I’m sorry if you feel like I took advantage of you. I didn’t mean to.”

  “I didn’t think you did. Really, if anything, I took advantage of you. I’m such a mess right now, and this is the last thing I need to be doing. I won’t throw myself at you like that again, I promise.”

  But that was just the problem. He didn’t want her to promise that. That was the last thing he wanted.

  His courage gave out on him again. “Well, let’s just say I won’t call the cops on you if you go back on your word.”

  At least she laughed. “Thanks. I feel much better.” Yet somehow, he got the feeling that neither of them did. If anything, they’d screwed things up worse than before.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I’m telling you I’m fine. I can’t give up my life.” She looked around at the men gathered in her living room, all of them staring at her with almost identical looks of disbelief. “What?”

  “Are you sure you need to be doing this right now? I mean, all of the stalker stuff aside, your name is all over the place this morning.” Zane shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of you going out.”

  “Aren’t you rich eno
ugh that you can just have somebody pick up your groceries for you? No offense,” Sledge added when she shot him a dirty look.

  “Yeah, none taken,” she smirked, rolling her eyes. “Listen, you’re all more than welcome to come with me if it makes you feel any better.” Honestly, she would’ve liked the company and the protection, though she knew their presence would only make people talk more than they already were.

  Sure enough, thanks to her manager, her name was trending all across social media. After all, she was the last person aside from Paul Bergman’s assistant to see him alive. On top of that, he had tried to assault her. Melody had practically exploded with excitement when she announced five offers for interviews.

  She had then practically exploded again when Serenity turned down every single one without even asking for details.

  Was she really that dense? Or was it Serenity who was the problem? Was she wrong to draw the line where she was drawing it? Maybe there was a silver lining to all of this. Maybe she could get a little more exposure, a little more mileage out of what was otherwise a tragedy.

  No, that would be wrong. It would be dirty. Whether or not she wanted to be famous, she also wanted to be able to sleep at night. She liked being able to look at herself in the mirror without flinching or looking away in shame.

  And she had already done more than enough to embarrass herself, to make her feel guilty. The messages she’d sent to Kennedy and Nick and Darcy had all gone unanswered. Maybe that wouldn’t always be the case. Maybe one or all of them would reach out eventually. At least she could say she’d made the first move.

  That was just the tip of the iceberg. She had a lot of people to apologize to, a lot of things to make up for—temper tantrums, insults, always assuming there would be more people to make up for anybody she pushed out of her life. Somewhere along the way, she had become a monster.

  The funny thing was she had her stalker to thank for opening her eyes to who she was becoming, to who she didn’t want to be. To think she had something to thank them for.

  “We have a call with the rest of the team in a little bit. Can it wait?” Jace asked.

  “I don’t know. I was going to make something really special for dinner, and I need time to cook it.” She shrugged. “Without rehearsals to look forward to, I need to fill my time. Don’t tell me you don’t like the idea of another home-cooked meal.”

  Braxton was being suspiciously silent, keeping his thoughts to himself and even keeping his face blank. She didn’t like it. There was something going on in that head of his, opinions stirring to life. She braced herself when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

  “I’ll go with her. You guys stay here for the meeting. Explain there was something that had to be done. You know I can handle anything we come across out there.” He grabbed his keys from a hook by the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  He hadn’t even waited to see how she felt about this. For that matter, he hadn’t waited to hear the opinions of his team members. He was just going to go ahead and do what he wanted, and to hell with what anybody else thought.

  Maybe this was what she deserved after being such a brat for so long.

  As annoyed as she was, there was another feeling tugging at the back of her mind. Excitement. Her pulse fluttered wildly as they walked out to his rental truck. She would get to be alone with him even though she knew she’d ruined any chance of anything fun or exciting happening.

  All because she had to go and open her big mouth. She must’ve said the wrong thing because something had changed between them after she apologized for throwing herself at him. There she was, hoping he would call her bluff. He hadn’t, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe there was nothing to be done. Maybe she would just have to live with the choice she’d made, the choice to leave it up to him, to hope he would tell her he wasn’t sorry, that he’d wanted what happened.

  That he’d wanted it even more than she had.

  That he wanted it to happen again.

  Now, he was practically formal as he held the door open for her to get into the truck. “I can help open my own door, you know,” she smirked before climbing up into the cab.

  “I’ll make a note that you don’t like chivalry.” He closed the door maybe a little harder than he needed to. Boy, he was good and pissed off. Was it her fault? Probably.

  “I never said chivalry was a bad thing,” she argued when he climbed behind the wheel. He was so massive he took up most of the cab without trying. His presence overwhelmed her with its proximity. He left her a little breathless, a little fluttery, without even touching her.

  Was this normal? Was she coming down with something?

  “So, what you’re really interested in is busting my balls.” He turned on the radio, choosing a heavy, pounding metal song. At least he didn’t crank the volume up too loud, though it was still enough to make her head throb a little.

  She didn’t know whether to demand he tell her what his problem was or let things go. Was it even worth starting another argument? She was so tired of fighting with him. At first, it’d been interesting—even enjoyable. There was only so much enjoyment she could get out of having a stalker and needing extra protection, and she had taken it where she could find it.

  Now when they butted heads, it left a bad taste in her mouth. He made her look at herself in a way she never had before, a way that made her so uncomfortable, so unhappy with herself and with the choices she’d made. And the last thing she wanted to do was anger him or hurt him. She had already hurt enough people with her carelessness.

  What was the point of learning and growing if the same mistakes kept being repeated over and over again? There couldn’t be any growth in a situation like that, and she did want to grow. She wanted to be a better person, the sort of substantial person she knew he would respect.

  Sitting there next to him with a hard, driving baseline making the inside of the truck vibrate, she found herself wondering if she’d fallen in love with him. His opinion mattered more than just about anyone else’s, and everything she’d done over the last few days involved him in some way or another. Whenever she had a choice to make, she asked herself what he would think about her decision.

  What would she say to one of her friends if they started acting this way over a man? She’d probably tell them to get real, to stop basing their lives around the life of a man. No man was worth that sort of thing, no matter who he was. She would probably even pat herself on the back, relieved that she wasn’t so easily roped in, so easy to control.

  But the thing was, looking at it from her perspective, she knew she wasn’t letting anybody control her. It wasn’t like he told her what to do, what to think, how to act. Everything she did came from her, from what she wanted.

  She wanted to be a person he would respect, and if she ended up respecting herself a little more, so much the better.

  “You’re pretty quiet,” he observed without taking his eyes off the road. Traffic was typical: barely moving, the road congested. It was the sort of situation that made her grateful for the little things in life, such as air conditioning in the car—something she’d never had growing up.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to have to shout over the radio.”

  “You could always turn it down.”

  “I didn’t want to be rude. Isn’t that one of the rules about riding shotgun? You don’t reach over and change the volume, just like you don’t change the station.”

  He snickered, reaching over to turn down the sound. “Better?”

  “Thanks. Though honestly, I don’t have much to say. I don’t want you to think I’m being deliberately difficult or anything.”

  “No, I don’t think that. I have to admit I don’t know what to expect from you, but I definitely don’t expect you to—”

  He stopped so suddenly her head snapped around. She found him looking in the rearview mirror, then in the mirror on the driver side door. “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking at her own mirror and seeing
the problem before he had the chance to respond.

  They were being followed—not only followed but photographed by a guy hanging out the passenger side window of the car behind them. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered in disgust. “Get a real job!”

  Another car pulled up beside them, on her side, and the driver snapped a few shots. She turned her face away, cursing under her breath. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, ashamed.

  “What are you sorry about? You have nothing to be sorry for. Hold on.” For a truck as big as the one they were in, Braxton was able to maneuver it like a tiny two-door coupe. He wove in and out, in between cars, finding room where it didn’t look like there was any.

  She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Tell me when it’s over,” she squealed.

  “Dammit, they’re still back there.” She opened her eyes to find what he was talking about—drivers leaned on their horns as one of her pursuers tried the same maneuvers Braxton was. Even though he was driving a smaller car, he couldn’t manage it, and all he was doing was making people angry. The other car, the one that had been beside them, had managed to keep up.

  “God, you have no idea how much I want to flip them off,” she muttered. Instead, she sank lower in her seat, her chin tucked close to her chest. She might not have been able to avoid them, but she didn’t have to make their job easier, either.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll lose him.” Braxton’s jaw was set tight, his voice almost scary in its depth, more of a growl than anything else.

  “You don’t have to worry about losing anybody. Just get us there safely. It’s not worth getting into an accident over.” Her heart was in her throat as it was, even though they weren’t in any danger. Not really. Not with Braxton driving the way he was.

  “I just don’t know who these people think they are!” He slammed his palm against the steering wheel with a grunt. “Where do they get off doing things like this?”