She could only imagine how Mr. Treckle was going to respond when he read her email. Would he fire her the moment she walked into the studio next week? Or would he let the fear fester, allowing her to believe she was safe, until kicking her out on her rear weeks later? She wouldn’t put it above him.
All she knew was that she couldn’t share those last few minutes of the tape with anyone. Billy didn’t deserve that. He hadn’t killed his fiancée, even if he felt differently. She knew that. He was a good man. An honorable man.
Stasia hopped back into bed and pulled the comforters over her head. She wished her mom was there to tell her everything was going to be okay. As a child, her parents would check under her bed for monsters and tuck the sheets around her body for extra comfort at night. She could use a bit of babying at that moment.
The only monster in the room tonight was her. A werewolf princess who had crushed a boy of only seventeen because of her own insecurities and fears. As a result, Billy had closed off his heart to all others and in the end, paid a heavy price for loving such a foolish girl.
“He didn’t turn me in,” she mumbled into her pillow. The words felt right, as if they’d been waiting all these years for her to utter their syllables. “Billy Finley didn’t betray me. He loved me.”
She closed her eyes and thought about what that meant. Decades lost between them because of a misunderstanding. There was no way Billy could love her now. Not after she’d completely rejected him a second time. And not after his confession.
Her heart began to ache and she curled up in a ball. There was no going back now. The only way through this was forward. She’d return to the castle tomorrow evening and have to learn to live with this knowledge. That she’d broken Billy and anything left between them.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the empty room.
One last waking thought sailed through her mind as she drifted off into a fitful sleep. If Billy hadn’t turned her in for the reward that meant someone else had. And that someone was likely still out there. She’d like to give a piece of her mind to the guilty party, but the reality was, she might never know who to confront.
And they might never know about the lives they destroyed.
Chapter Fourteen
A sharp knock on the door of her motel room wrenched Stasia from her sleep. She fell to the floor, her feet tied up in the twisted blankets. Rubbing a hand over her bruised bottom, she stared bleary-eyed at the door as another round of impatient knocks sounded. Who could be making such noise at this hour?
Had Billy come back for her? The thought brought a deep blush to her neck.
She popped to her feet and rushed to open it. Myra stood in the blinking porch light while mosquitoes and gnats buzzed above her head. A thin black trench coat wrapped around her tiny waist above knee-high leather boots. Her dark eye makeup and poisoned red apple lipstick looked ready for the club. She ran a disinterested glance slowly over Stasia’s crumpled outfit and walked past her into the room.
“Myra, what are you doing here?” Stasia rubbed a fist over her eyes and yawned. What the station’s head of editing was doing on her doorstep was beyond her. “I didn’t know to expect a visit.”
“I made a special trip out here just for you,” the vampiress said, running a finger along the top of the TV and frowning at the dust. “Quite the little town, your Molodoy.”
“Yeah, it grows on you after time.” Stasia sat on the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to curl up beneath the blankets.
She watched Myra with a wary eye, waiting for the news to break. Things must be worse than she expected if Myra had made a special trip out here just to comfort her. Maybe Mr. Treckle had emptied her desk contents on the network studio lawn. Pinned a photo of her in the break room and left a set of darts for anyone in the mood. Or, even threatened to curse her entire werewolf line. Trolls had notoriously bad tempers. She wouldn’t be surprised.
“Is this about my email?” Stasia asked, feeling sleep heavy on her eyes. “Is it really that bad?”
Myra nodded curtly and placed her hands deep in the trench-coat pockets. “Why didn’t we get any clips of Mr. Finley going into more detail about his fiancée’s death? Mr. Treckle had a feeling that there’s more to that story. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so furious. He’s not very happy with you.”
Sorrow crossed Stasia face and she pulled the blanket up to her chest. “Because Billy blames himself for her death. I didn’t feel it was right to share those clips, Myra. He shouldn’t blame himself. He wasn’t responsible.”
“So you did get the rest of the interview?” Myra turned to her with one eyebrow raised.
Stasia nodded solemnly. “But I deleted those shots.”
Myra tilted her head to one side and smiled softly. She sat down next to Stasia on the bed and sighed. “You’re quite the asset to the Lochness Broadcasting Network, do you know that?”
Stasia smiled through grateful tears. “Really?”
“Of course I do. It isn’t every day that we get royalty among our ranks. Travis Treckle was wasting your influence on the ground floor when he could’ve had you in front of the camera. A beautiful, energetic woman like you. People would’ve sat up and taken notice. But he let you rot in the ranks. And now where has that gotten us?”
Stasia blinked. She looked up at Myra’s steely smile and felt a tiny stab of fear in her gut. “What do you mean?”
“Travis’ neglect made you soft,” she said, capturing a flyaway curl of Stasia’s hair and tucking it behind one ear, her fingers lingering. “And because of him, I’ve lost my story and my royal marketing device. Because of him, I have to fire you. You were once my key to the top of this company, Ms. Pavlosky. But now I can see that you’re no good to me anymore.”
Stasia’s breath caught in her lungs. She’d expected this treatment from Mr. Treckle, but never from the vampiress beside her.
“But...why?” She didn’t understand why Myra would travel all the way out here just to fire her. Especially in the middle of the night.
“I needed you to understand how serious I am about this company,” she said coolly. “Some day, I will be the one running it. My climb to the top has been anything but easy. I won’t let some pampered princess who thinks she’s above the rules ruin this for me.”
Myra flashed a toothy smile, her fangs glistening. She popped up off the bed and strode toward the door.
“Collect your things by the end of this week or they’ll be thrown out with the rest of the garbage,” Myra said coolly. With a hand already on the doorknob, she paused. “If you’re feeling vengeful, don’t make the mistake of thinking for one second that your royal position can usurp me. With media, comes power. I will destroy the entire royal family should you so much as think of trying to get me expelled.”
Stasia stared at her, her head fuzzy. Surely, this wasn’t happening. It was all a bad dream. She just had to pinch her arm and she’d wake up.
“Oh, and Miss Pavlosky?” Myra turned her head the slightest to smile, tight-lipped. “Have a wonderful morning.”
And then the vampiress disappeared into the night.
❖
Billy scrubbed his face with his hands and leaned forward on his couch. After a few restless hours in bed, he’d given up on sleep and moved to the living room to watch infomercials after midnight. The flickering lights of the TV were starting to get to him. He could swear he was starting to hear noises, like spooks in his backyard.
He shook his head and hobbled from the couch. Not a drop of alcohol had touched his lips last night and yet he still felt like he was nursing the world’s worst hangover. Regret and anger punched him in the stomach when he thought about the last words he’d said to Stasia.
It had felt right at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. What would his family and friends say once they saw his confession on late night national TV? Most people only knew bits and pieces of the story. Now, it was all out there. Too late to bottle it back up.
Some
thing shattered against his front door, like broken glass. Billy froze and stared at the doorknob. He hadn’t imagined that noise. Something really was going on out there.
Shaking off the shock, he sprinted toward the door and tore it open. He ducked just in time for another glass bottle to sail over his head and shatter on his living room carpet.
“Think you can take our spots in the pack, Finley?” Colt Wilson stood, half wrapped in shadows, at the end of his drive. He had a beer bottle in his hand, cocked and ready to release. “Think again.”
He chucked the glass and it burst on the side of the house. Billy ground his teeth in rage and began to stride forward, his eyes turning black. Time to teach those boys a lesson. A fist fight didn’t sound so bad at that moment. It’d be a good way to get out his frustrations. Part way down the drive, he stopped suddenly when the smell of fire caught his attention.
Orange flames licked the bottom of the garage doors and black smoke poured from the small crack above the pavement. A dark figure ran past the side of the garage and stumbled down the end of the driveway, whooping and hollering. Billy didn’t need to see his face to figure out who it was. Where Colt Wilson was, Reggie Wilson was sure to follow. And if he knew anything about the brothers, they were currently drunk out of their minds and as unpredictable as cornered animals.
Cursing them, Billy ran to the doors and grabbed the first door. The heat of the metal handle sizzled against his skin and he roared in pain. Thankfully, the injury wouldn’t last long. The healing powers of the werewolf would soon take care of it. Shaking off the stinging agony, he went to the second door and yanked it open.
Flames climbed the walls of the garage, reaching out with their deathly hands toward the timber ceiling. The Chevelle sat in a ball of flames and the distinct acrid scent of gasoline wafted toward the open door. Billy held up his arms to fend against the blaze, but the heat was almost strong enough to start his clothes on fire. He fumbled blindly for the fire extinguisher, hissing when he felt the soles of his boots begin to melt. If he remained in the flame any longer, he was going to die.
The realization hit him hard that he was going to lose his garage. His livelihood. There was no saving it. It was all gone.
Coughing and sputtering in the thick smoke, he made his way slowly to the exit. The fresh air felt like a balm on his lungs. He collapsed to his knees and sucked in the sweet nectar as smoke poured out of the garage behind him. The roof caught fire and something exploded, shattering the windows and throwing Billy hard on the ground.
“What in tarnation is going on here?”
He squinted into the woods to see Madge hobbling toward him, a fluffy pink bathrobe tied around her waist and her knobby knees in full view. She yelped at the sight of the garage in flames and rushed to his side.
“Did you forget to turn off the stove?” she asked, waving her finger.
Billy gave her an incredulous look. “Do I look like the kind of man who knows how to turn on an oven? The Wilson brothers did this.”
“Oh...” Madge rubbed a hand on her hairy chin and nodded. “That’s more like it. Very well. Let’s clean this up.”
She waved her hands toward the garage and instantly, the flames died down to embers. Billy stared in disbelief at the charred remains of his garage. He should’ve been grateful that the fire hadn’t spread to his home, but all he could think about was the blackened skeleton of the Chevelle sitting inside. The Wilson brothers must’ve covered it in gasoline and lit it on fire.
What he wouldn’t do to get his hands on them and teach them a few lessons...
“This certainly isn’t your best night,” Madge said with a shrug of her shoulders. She hitched up her robe and Billy had to turn away to avoid getting a look at anything that would haunt him for the rest of his life. “If I hadn’t been communing with my sister in the spirit realm at this late hour, your entire home would’ve been ashes. But don’t worry, my child. My guess is that Shep isn’t going to overlook this. Those boys will be lucky to still have a pack after this shenanigan.”
Billy ran his tongue over his teeth and sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, Madge was right. Once Shep heard the news, justice would be served. He could count on the alpha to do just that. No need to chase down the Wilsons and impart his own brand of justice. He had enough troubles for one day. He didn’t need to add in a potentially violent fight with two volatile werewolves.
“Good thing you have a pretty lady friend to take your mind off all this,” Madge said with a farewell wave. She hobbled back toward her house, cackling. “Don’t forget to tell her hi from old Madge. And if any of her friends should ever find themselves in need of a date, don’t be afraid to call.”
He shook his head at her disappearing figure. For once, it hadn’t been so bad to have that crazy old witch as a neighbor. Useful, even. He still had a home. But her words had brought back the headache he’d been fighting all night.
He’d confessed to manslaughter on national TV. His garage was toast. And he’d lost the love of his life — twice. There was no coming back from this. He’d tried to build a life in Alaska and Molodoy, only to have them both utterly destroyed.
He didn’t belong there. He didn’t belong anywhere. The best thing he could do would be to pick up and build a quiet existence far away from the reach of anyone that could hurt him.
And say goodbye to Monstrana once and for all.
Chapter Fifteen
Stasia had just finished packing her suitcase when a knock came at the door. Her heart skipped a beat and she cringed. Who could want her now? Maxim and Vinny weren’t exactly the early morning type, so she doubted either one of them had managed to drag themselves out of bed at this early hour. And Myra was probably already back in her cozy corner office, congratulating herself on making such a bold decision to fire and threaten a member of the royal family. All she wanted was to leave this tiny town and go home to lick her wounds. Couldn’t she do that in peace?
She tried to shake off the bitterness and went to open the door. Ashley stood there dressed in tiny denim shorts and a tight apricot tank. Bracelets encircled her ankles and she’d stuffed her feet into thin flip flops.
“Stasia!” She threw herself into Stasia’s arms and hugged her tight.
“Ashley? What’s going on?”
“Oh, it’s so terrible. Everyone’s talking about it.” She pulled back and stared at Stasia with a stricken face. “Billy’s garage burned down last night. The Chevelle’s toast. They’ve arrested a couple werewolves from the local pack for it. They’ll pay for what they’ve done, but I’m worried about Billy. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Stasia pressed her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. That garage had been Billy’s way of finding worth in this world again. And now it was gone. She could only imagine the pain he was going through.
“I’m so sorry for his loss,” she said, opening her eyes. “Tell him that for me, would you?”
“Can’t you go to him yourself?” Ashley asked, biting her lower lip. “Can’t you help him?”
Turning away, Stasia walked toward her suitcase. She wanted nothing more than to take this burden from Billy’s shoulders, but what could she do? He hated the very sight of her. After the events of yesterday, he probably wished he’d never met her. The last thing he needed was to see her. It would only add to his pain.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” she said, closing her suitcase and zipping it shut.
Maybe she wouldn’t wait for those two lazy piles to wake up. She should just go pound on their doors and remind them who’s boss. Another hour in this town and she was going to split in two from anxiety.
Ashley’s voice was thick with emotion. “What do you mean? Billy needs help.” She looked at the suitcase for the first time and her eyes grew wide. “Wait...are you leaving?”
Stasia turned back to her and nodded. “As soon as the boys get up, we’re returning home. I lost my job and I’ve lost Billy. I’ve done all the damage I can
stomach for one decade.”
“But you can’t.” She grabbed her two buns on her head, making her hair stick out even worse. “You said you wouldn’t leave. You said you wouldn’t be replaced. I need you.”
Stasia chuckled dryly. It was a nice thought to be needed, but that wasn’t true. They didn’t need her at the broadcasting station. And no one needed her clomping all over their heart. She was a bull in a china room. Breaking everything she touched.
“Ashley, you’ve got a family in Molodoy. You’ve got great friends and people who love you. You’ve got Garret, who adores you and would take care of you in an instant, if you gave him a chance, by the way. You never needed me. I have to return home now and think about taking my royal duties seriously.”
“But you promised.” Ashley’s lower lip stuck out and she stomped her feet. It reminded Stasia of her friend as a sixteen-year-old kid. Always wanting her own way. “You promised it wouldn’t be like last time.”
“Last time was different.” She sat wearily on the edge of the bed and cradled her head. How many more times was she going to be forced to relive those memories? “I ran away because I thought your brother betrayed me and I hated him for it. Turns out, I was wrong. He didn’t do it. But now, he hates me. Don’t you see? I can’t stay here. I don’t want to hurt him anymore.”
“My brother could never hate you.” Ashley scowled and reached into her back pocket. “He’s always been in love with you. Ever since we were kids. Here’s your proof.”
She shoved a wrinkled piece of paper in Stasia’s hands. It was yellowed, but across the front she could still clearly make out her name in Billy’s handwriting.
“Ashley, what is this?” Stasia held it in her shaking hands.
Bite the Big Heartache: Werewolf Shifter Romance (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance Book 2) Page 9